#like suck it up dude if he wants to make his stuff in spanish because hes Mexican and that's his mother tongue hes on his full right

[tsui-no-sora]

also like the questions were also repeated in English and answered in English. What is there to complain

Yeah like we literally saw Dream asking Quackity to please translate for everybody and he did it saying that "Okay for anybody that didn't understand" so it's not like you were getting left out if you didn't understand the literally only two questions in Spanish in the whole hours long panel

He also answered them all in English as well either way

And also the first girl who asked in Spanish literally had to do it because she was struggling a lot with her English as you know people who aren't born into an English country do

Honestly this idea that USA people have that everybody must speak their language and assimilate into their culture and their way of doing things and otherwise they are wrong and being selfish is so freaking annoying and high-key just racist

If a Latino wants to speak with a Latino in Spanish it's not our freaking issue if your white ass can't understand it

[happi-tree]

i hate accidents (except when we went from friends to this)

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I don’t know what came over me, you’re just so hurt and I was so scared and I didn’t know what to do and -”

Link cuts himself off as he glances up from Taylor’s still-glazed expression to his forehead. Before his eyes, the gash stitches itself closed, the open wound fading to a pink scar that pales to white before disappearing entirely.

Lincoln remembers hearing the words “kiss it better” throughout his entire childhood. He remembers the way his dads would patch up his scraped knees with ointment and a bandage and top it all off with a tiny kiss before treating him to a hard candy from their first aid kit for being such a good boy.

Never once had Link thought that the phrase could be literal. Or that his newfound powers could make it literal.

Or: Link discovers a rather unorthodox way of using Lay On Hands thanks to one Taylor Swift, and for some reason, he can’t seem to stop finding excuses to perfect his new skills. Fortunately, Taylor is more than happy to help.

once / twice / thrice, pt. 1 / thrice, pt. 2

twice (‘cause it’s gonna be alright)

The second time it happens, it’s not an accident. 

Taylor invited Link to his house on the pretense of doing homework together (who knew saving the world meant having so many late assignments?) and maybe watching some anime later. 

It had taken Link some convincing at first, but Taylor thinks he’s finally got him hooked on Blue Lock: Keyed Up!!! (which is good, considering it’s the only soccer anime that Taylor’s watched). 

Unfortunately, though, homework comes first. Which sucks, because there are about a million and one better things that a protagonist like him could be doing, but he doesn’t want to worry his mom about his grades slipping any further.

Plus, Taylor missed an additional afternoon’s worth of classes yesterday for a long-overdue orthodontist appointment (his jaw aches at the reminder), so he has extra extra make-up work. Ugh. 

At least Link’s passable at science. Normally, Scary could make up some pretty good answers for all of them for their English work, but she’s out recording some stuff for Erica’s podcast. Normal has cheer practice, so Taylor doesn’t really have much hope for his pile of Spanish worksheets, but at the very least, he and Link are making progress. 

Very slow progress. 

Taylor accidentally clenches his jaw a little too hard, and the ache in his teeth intensifies from there-but-tolerable to fucking-hell-it-feels-like-someone-is-wrenching-my-upper-jaw-in-two-holy-shit.

He makes a quiet, whimpering sort of noise, and Link looks up from his work immediately, eyebrows all scrunched together and lips downturned in concern. It would be cute if Taylor could focus on anything other than the agony plaguing his mouth.

“You okay, dude?” he asks, shifting closer on Taylor’s king-size mattress.

“Nnnnnnn,” Taylor moans, shaking his head ever so slightly and flopping back against the pillows dramatically (but carefully, so as not to accidentally make the pain worse somehow). “Teeth hurt.”

“Oh, right, you got your braces adjusted yesterday,” Link gently moves their notebooks and laptops to the side, where they won’t get crushed. 

Taylor’s eyes squeeze shut as he tries to do anything but focus on the ache. “Mmm,” he confirms. “And I think maybe my fangs might be growing in? Hard to tell, but I keep accidentally cutting my tongue on my canines, so I think they’re getting sharper.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Link says, and the sincerity in his voice brings a smile to Taylor’s face, which he cuts off with a wince because fuck, ow, that hurt.

“Would be cooler if my entire mouth didn’t hurt like hell, though,” Taylor grumbles. 

He opens his eyes to find Link hovering over him, looking worried and… hesitant?

“Jeez, Link, I’m not dying or anything. The torment is endless and the agony neverending, but I will persevere! Ah, fuck,” Taylor mutters, pressing a hand to his cheek, which only seems to make matters worse.

Link’s still looking at him like that, though, so he makes grabby hands to beckon him closer.

“Cuddles would maybe help, though, if you’re just gonna sit there,” he offers.

“I can work with that,” Link says, laughing a little under his breath and leaning back on the pillows beside him. 

He opens up his arms and Taylor wedges himself between them, tucking his head under Link’s chin and burying the top portion of his face into his chest, right below his collarbones. He inhales, trying to focus on the smell of laundry detergent and fresh-cut grass and sports deodorant and sweat and something uniquely Link rather than the pain in his jaw, and it works a little.

Link’s arms come around to encircle him, and while Taylor can feel stifled by skin-to-skin contact (he already has enough trouble regulating his own body heat without throwing someone else’s into the mix), the way Link holds him feels… nice. Protective. Link begins to trace tiny, meaningless circles into his back with his thumbs through the fabric of Taylor’s shirt, and the sensation grounds him. 

Taylor quietly realizes that he hasn’t felt this safe in a long time. 

His mouth still hurts like a bitch, though.

As if on cue, another pulse of pain floods his mouth, and Taylor instinctively clenches his jaw against the feeling, which in hindsight was pretty stupid because it makes the ache intensify tenfold. Taylor lets out a whine into Link’s chest, clutching helplessly at his best friend’s shirt. 

He fantasizes somewhat deliriously about taking his teeth and chucking them out of his face where they can’t hurt him.

“That seems like it must be pretty painful,” Link says sadly.

“Nnnnnnnngh,” Taylor replies because yeah, no shit, Sherlock-kun.

“You know,” Link starts out, tone still soft but much more considering, more nervous. Taylor can feel the vibration of Link’s voice against the top of his head, right where it’s pressed against his taller friend’s throat. “I think I can fix that, if you want.”

Taylor pulls away a bit, and Link loosens his hold to allow for some space.

“Well, why didn’t you say so earlier?” Taylor asks. “I know I look totally awesome and composed on the outside, but I am fucking perishing inside. Yes, please, whatever your idea is, I will literally do anything. What were you thinking of, though?”

“Well,” Link says, voice pitching high, “I was thinking, I could, uh. Kiss it better? Like I did last week, if you remember that?” He looks briefly down at Taylor, as he says this, scanning his face for… something. “Oh my god, it would be so embarrassing if you didn’t remember that. Never mind, this is so stupid, sorry, forget I said anything.”

Except Taylor doesn’t really hear that last part because he’s too busy reliving the feeling of Link’s chapped lips pressed against his temple, callused hands cradling the back of his head, big brown eyes that look like black holes in the darkness of sun-off threatening to swallow Taylor completely. 

Does Taylor remember last week? That’s like asking someone if they remember that the sky is red. Taylor remembers last week annoyingly well, and he keeps remembering it, and the scene plays and replays as the hellfire within his ribcage flares and the heat rises and he looks up at Link who’s still working himself into some anxiety-ridden ramble and -

Cool it, cool it, part of his mind whispers to him. 

Link offered to kiss me, an irritatingly large amount of his brain shrieks back at him, uncool and uncharacteristically nervous and taking up more mental real estate by the second. Boy hugging me boy touching me boy kissing me?

You just need to calm down, the more rational part of his brain assuages. You’re Taylor Swift, you’ve got this.

I’m Taylor Swift, I’ve got this. Taylor mentally chants, strongarming the fire in his chest and turning the flame down to something a bit more bearable. I’ve got this. I’m popular, I’m icy cool, and anyone would be lucky to kiss me. I’ve got this.

Brain successfully rebooted, Taylor nudges at Link’s shoulder, stopping his friend’s mutterings in their tracks.

“As long as you haven’t talked yourself out of it, I’m, like, totally down if you’re still offering. You severely underestimate how desperate I am for pain relief.”

“Oh,” Link says, eyebrows drawn up in surprise. Then, “Really?”

“Yeah, oh,” Taylor echoes back. “Really. The only thing is… don’t you usually have to touch whatever’s hurt for it to work? And like, it’s my teeth, so…”

“Yeah, and?” Link prompts, like he isn’t quite seeing any problem with that and.

Oh.

Oh, Link means kissing kissing. Like, on the mouth. And to get at Taylor’s teeth… that’s like making-out-kissing. Oh, god. Oh my god, okay. This is fine. Sure! Great.

“Oh,” Taylor says aloud. Then, “Okay!”

“Are you sure? About this?” Link questions, searching Taylor’s expression even as he places a slightly-clammy hand to Taylor’s cheek, even as Taylor’s face feels like it lights on fire in response. The clear concern in the upturn of his brows and the gleam in his dark eyes has Taylor humming in assent before he realizes what he’s doing and placing his hand atop Link’s larger one, holding him there as Taylor’s gaze is drawn to his slightly parted lips.

“For the love of god, Link, just kiss me already.”

“Okay,” Lincoln says, quiet and slightly unsteady. And he closes the gap.

It’s clear that this is Link’s first kiss, and Taylor’s pretty sure Link can tell that it’s the first time he’s kissed someone, too (well, someone that isn’t his body pillows).

Link’s lips feel softer against Taylor’s than they had against his forehead. He’s tentative and shy and exceedingly gentle, and Taylor’s unsure if that’s out of the fear of causing him undue pain or if it’s just who Link is, but he appreciates it either way.

 Link’s thumb strokes delicately across Taylor’s cheek, almost reverently, like he’s afraid that Taylor will break apart in his arms if he doesn’t treat him with care. Link’s other hand comes to rest at the side of his neck, threading through the hair that’s escaped Taylor’s topknot, and the feeling of it paired with the light press of Link’s lips against his own draws another humming sound from his throat.

Taylor tries his best to reciprocate, mouth pliant against Link’s, free hand fisting in the soft, slippery fabric of his best friend’s shirt and tugging gently as if to bring him in even closer. His other hand moves from atop Link’s to cradle the back of his head and run his fingers through his close-cropped hair.

Link makes a low, soft sort of noise that will no doubt be replaying for weeks on end in Taylor’s head. God, he needs to hear that sound again.

Sadly, though, they’ve run out of air, and Lincoln pulls away only to lean back in and carefully rest his forehead against Taylor’s.

Taylor’s eyelids blink open (oh, he had closed them, when had that happened?) and he comes face-to-face with Link, brown eyes deep and dark, half-lidded and half-dazed, staring directly at him with open affection. His hand still rests on Taylor’s cheek, and Taylor can feel the stark temperature difference there, anxiety-chilled and demonically-overheated, as something flutters hard in his chest.

“Uh, wow,” Link says, quiet and very breathless, and God, who gave him the right to be so beautiful and so adorable at the same time?

Taylor draws his lip in between his teeth and is greeted with a sharp stab of pain.

“Ow, fuck, shit,” Taylor hisses, scooching back to put more distance between the two of them. “Guess that didn’t work, but thanks for trying, Link. You out of spell slots or something?”

With Link’s complexion, it can be difficult to tell when his friend is flushed or flustered, but his wide eyes and cringing expression definitely come across as embarrassed.

“No,” he replies, voice a few octaves higher than normal. “I, uh, forgot? To do the spell.”

At Taylor’s quirked eyebrow, Link elaborates, “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t accidentally hurt you more, and then I got so wrapped up in that that I guess I forgot, and then you did that thing with your hand in my hair, and -” he cuts himself off with a whine, covering his eyes with a hand and dramatically rolling over, the picture of mortification. “Kill me now.”

Taylor laughs, loud and sudden and sharp despite the pain, and Lincoln curls a little further into himself. 

“I can just, uh - I made it weird, I can just go, I guess?” Link says in that reedy, nervous way of his, voice cracking toward the end as he sits up, moves to stand -

“Dude,” Taylor clambers across the mattress after him, grabs his wrist. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“I-“ Link gestures with his thumb toward the door. “Home? I mean, I screwed up, and you laughed, and now you probably think I’m so stupid and-“

“Hold up, handsome,” where did that pet name come from - “I wasn’t laughing at you- I mean! I was,” Taylor watches as Link’s expression droops further “- but not to make fun of you! It’s just…” Come on, just say it, you’ve never had trouble speaking your mind before - “endearing.”

Link looks more confused and anxious than anything, but that’s better than sad and anxious, so Taylor takes that as a win. 

“Plus, you’re not getting away from me that easy, Li-Wilson,” He adds, tugging his friend a little closer. Link doesn’t resist it.

Taylor allows a smile to pull at his lips, only flinching a little bit at the pain he now expects. “You can try again, you know,” he offers, looking up at Link through his lashes. 

“I can?” His friend asks, skin flushed darker across his cheeks. “I didn’t make it too awkward?”

“Nope!” Taylor responds, popping the “p.” 

“Nothing awkward about a good old-fashioned makeout session with your best friend!”

“Best friend,” Link echoes, “Right…”

“C’mon,” Taylor goads, crooking a finger toward him as he smirks. “I don’t bite.”

Taylor’s gaze lowers from Link’s face and rests at the side of his friend’s neck, taking note of the sparse freckles there. His teeth feel a little heavier in his mouth.

“Not unless you want me to,” he murmurs. 

“What?” Link asks, sounding strangled. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Taylor evades.

“If you’re really sure -“

“I am,” Taylor confirms, moving to sit half-gracelessly in his friend’s lap, hands steadying his weight on Link’s strong shoulders. “Now, less tally-talky, more smoochy-smoochy!”

“So demanding,” Link teases, even as he threads his fingers through his hair again. Taylor can hear the smile in his voice without having to look - which is good, because if he did, he’s pretty sure he’d give into the impulse to kiss the curve of his lips without preamble.

“You bet.” Taylor’s voice comes out much breathier than he expects as he meets Link’s eyes. “Don’t forget the spell this time!”

“I won’t! Probably.” 

Just like before, Link leans in again, and a slight smile pulls at Taylor’s lips as he meets him halfway. 

The sensation of Link’s lips against his own is a little less foreign now, a little less startling. Taylor lets himself melt into it, and just before he closes his eyes he can see the adorable little furrow of concentration between Link’s brows that he gets whenever he’s casting something. 

Kissing his best friend tastes like vanilla chapstick and Taylor’s favorite soda. Link had snagged a bottle of lychee Ramune out of his hands earlier, saying something about how carbonation was bad for braces and offering his homemade sports drink instead (which hadn’t tasted too great but wasn’t quite as bad as Taylor had expected). Taylor finds that he doesn’t really mind, now - not when the flavor is even more addictive this way.

Link’s hands come up to cradle the sides of Taylor’s face like some sort of fairytale prince, firm and gentle and insistent all at once. The soft pressure of his friend’s fingertips ghosts along the jut of his jawline, and it’s almost worshipful, like Link sees Taylor as someone to be adored. 

The tenderness of it all sends a thrill down Taylor’s spine, and then the chill spreads, unfurling itself through every nerve. 

Taylor has been on the receiving end of Link’s magic before, but he’s rarely lucid enough to appreciate it, to bask in the comforting coolness his friend’s Lay On Hands brings. It’s less like running an open cut under cold water and more like a fresh breeze in the middle of a stagnant summer afternoon, he thinks, something blissful and relieving that reminds him of safety, just like the boy he’s kissing. He falls forward into the embrace - both the spell and Link’s affection - as his hands tangle themselves in the back of Link’s athletic shirt, chasing the feeling. Link’s magic is a deeply soothing sensation, a balm to Taylor’s flushed cheeks and fire-bright nerves and burning heart, and he can feel himself melt in Link’s hold, his thoughts reducing to little more than a warm haze against his lips.

Link pulls away after what probably amounted to only a few moments, and Taylor leans after him on instinct. His eyes flutter open just in time to see Link gazing down at him fondly through his lashes, the last dregs of his magic sparking across his irises in anvil-sharp flashes of bronze before fizzling out entirely. His lips are slightly kiss-bruised, and it sends a jolt of satisfaction through Taylor’s stomach as he realizes that he did that.

“Did it work this time?” Link asks him, still cradling Taylor’s face in his hands, thumbs still grazing lightly across his cheeks.

It takes a few seconds for Taylor to register the question, then a few more as he prods at the back of his teeth with his tongue, clenches his jaw experimentally.

“Looks like it!” He confirms happily, though his joy sours a bit as Link’s hands leave his face to lean back on his arms, mourning the loss of contact.

“You’re a genius, Link,” Taylor praises, smiling and then smiling wider when he realizes that he feels no pain whatsoever. “Think you could do that again whenever my joints are acting up?”

He doesn’t really mean it - of course, a bigger part of him than he’d like to admit does, but his tone was supposed to come off as teasing - but Link’s eyes go wide and his cheeks darken further, and maybe Taylor wouldn’t mind at all if his friend takes that one hundred percent seriously.

“I- I mean, if you want t- If it’d help?” He fumbles, face flushing further as he stutters. It’s pretty commonplace to see Link a bit flustered, but it’s different when Taylor knows that he’s the reason for it. It’s pretty cute, in his opinion. 

“It’d do more than help. Chronic pain sucks ass, but you’d be, like, my personal angel,” Taylor says, looking up at Link. 

You already are, his mind adds for him. 

“Sure, then. Anytime. Uh, that’s what friends are for, right?” Link asks, those big brown eyes of his searching Taylor’s face for something.

He said “anytime”, is Taylor’s only coherent thought, one that runs giddy circles in his brain. I kissed Lincoln Li-Wilson. Twice. I just kissed my best friend twice. He said he’d kiss me again. God, I want to kiss him again. 

“Mm,” Taylor half-responds, still reeling from the way Link’s hands carded through his hair and smoothed over his cheeks and the way their lips slotted together. 

“Oh,” Taylor hears Link say distantly. “Okay, that’s, um. Okay.”

“Mm,” Taylor hums again, still in the process of rebooting what’s left of his brain.

A hand waves in front of Taylor’s face. “Taylor? You okay there, buddy? Did I do the spell wrong somehow? Please tell me I didn’t break you.”

You can break me anytime, Taylor thinks, mind conjuring images he definitely should not be having this close to the subject of his fantasies.

Taylor shakes his head in attempt to clear them. “All good, my man! Just, uh, thinking.” He desperately hopes his face isn’t as red as it feels.

“Wanna get back to homework, then?” Link says, gesturing to the pile of notebooks. “I think one of our make-up quizzes is due tonight.”

“Oh, shit, I forgot about that. We should probably get back to studying, huh.” He scoots away from Link to grab a notebook and his laptop, and for once in his life he misses the body heat of having a person next to him.

“Okay,” Link says, patting the empty space next to him and propping himself up against Taylor’s headboard.Taylor complies, settling himself into place at his side and handing him a pen (ballpoint, blue ink, Link’s favorite kind). He finds his own (a click pen, black gel ink) after a few moments of feeling around on the comforter.

“We’re still on chapter seven, right?” He asks, chewing on the end of his pen as he attempts to decipher the chicken scratch that is his own handwriting. 

“Unfortunately,” Link sighs, slinging his left arm around Taylor’s shoulders. 

As Taylor leans into Link’s side, he thinks that even though make-up work is bound to be hell, there are much less fortunate things than this. He smiles to himself, and it doesn’t hurt one bit.

[hibiscusheir]

Bakusquad Playing Specter (Roblox) with game-experienced!reader

a/n: ty for the support on my last post :]] it means a lot to me. a lot of this may not be accurate, as I haven't written for this fandom in about a year's time, so it may suck, or it may not! -heir

Characters: Katsuki Bakugo, Eijiro Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, Hanta Sero, Mina Ashido

CW: cursing, getting scared, probably terribly translated Spanish on Sero's part

Katsuki Bakugo

At first, he denied your request to play.

"The fuck-? No way, that sounds stupid."

After a bit of convincing, he complies, and you teach him the simple ropes of the game.

He doesn't really get it, but he wants to win.

"What's this-"

"That's an EMF reader. If it goes up to five (5), we write that down, and it narrows down our selection to figure out the ghost."

"And this-?"

"...Bakugo, that's a flashlight-"

If a hunt starts, and you two are together, you'll lead him to a closet to hide and wait.

(He makes fun of the ghost through the closet)

If you're split up, however, he'll rage when he either gets in the closet too late or he can't find one and the ghost kills him.

"WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!"

"You didn't hide fast enough."

"I'LL BLOW THAT GHOST TO PIECES-"

"Dude. It's a video game. Chill."

He wins sometimes, but you need to keep him grounded, otherwise, he'll get cocky.

Eijirou Kirishima

He would never turn down a game request from you!

"Hell yeah, sounds manly!"

I think he'd know some stuff, like what an EMF or a thermometer does.

But anything else, he doesn't know what he's doing, and you will have to explain to him.

He would try to address the ghost by the first name, even though it's chat and that's not how it works.

"*Insert name*! Y/N, why aren't they responding-???"

"It doesn't work like that, Kiri."

":( that's not nice."

When hunts roll around, you two are always in the closet together.

(Probably because he never leaves your side.)

On the rare chance he's not with you, he knows where to hide because you showed him.

You guys usually win.

If you don't you're alright with it!

Even if it's just a dumb glitch.

Denki Kaminari

He's so jumpy about the game.

Even the sound of running water makes him jump in his seat if it's sudden enough.

He'd need the flashlight if the lights went out/the generator was turned off.

Always hiding in either the closets or in the van

But if he gets the courage, he'll venture with you, solving the case together.

You gotta do most of the work, sorry. 🤷

Probably short circuits when jumpscared.

Would be the one to turn off jumpscares.

Though, he'd be pretty good about getting to the generator quickly to turn it back on!

(Because he's scared lol-)

You guys usually equally win and lose, most of the time, he dies though.

Hanta Sero

I think he'd be down to play, despite not knowing the game.

He's eager to learn, though!

Once you explain to him how to play, he's actually quite good.

He stays on track, doesn't get too cocky, and does well on his own.

...on easy mode.

On any other mode, however, the ghosts always scare the shit outta him.

Like during hunts, if he rounds a corner and sees the ghost, he yelps.

"MIERDA SANTA-"

"Y/NNNNNNNN, AYUDAAAAAA-"

But he dies since there's nothing you can do

(unless you use a crucifix or sacrifice yourself lol)

Overall, you two make a pretty good team as long as the mode stays on easy!

"*High fives you* Ayyyeeee, we did it!"

Mina Ashido

(Disclaimer, this is my first time writing for Mina, so if its OOC, then I'm sorry T-T)

She'd be down!

Lowkey think she'd know what she was doing.

Like, she'd know what an EMF is, know how to use a crucifix, know where to put the book, etc.

She strikes me as the type of girl to look up paranormal things in her spare time, especially since she's training to become a hero! There could be a villain who is like one of these ghosts!

She may have played this game before you asked her to play with you.

May even be a higher level than you~

She may get a little surprised by the jumpscares, but not super freaked out by them.

And definitely not scared enough to turn them off, hehe.

A/N: ayyyyyyyyy that's the end of that one :) I'm sorry if the last three seemed shorter and if they were a lil (or a lot) OOC but i still hope you liked this! like, reblog, and follow if you enjoy this and want more content from me! my requests are open as well :)

[talenlee]

The Floating Significance of Moses

When I say ‘hey, you know that Spanish guy who discovered America?’

And you go ‘Christopher Columbus?’

You know who I’m talking about. His name wasn’t Christopher Columbus. He also didn’t discover America. He wasn’t Spanish either! In fact, in that initialising event where I tried to get your attention to an individual I want to signify, literally none of the information I provided to locate him is true. You probably knew all three of those facts aren’t true – and those truths all lay at different levels of ‘um actually’ correction.

First of all, him being Spanish isn’t even vaguely true; he was an Italian who worked for the throne of Spain. Now, in this example, you might have even known he was Italian and figured that no, wait, he said Spanish, so my memory must not be reliable. You may even have known he was Italian and when I said Spanish assumed I was wrong, but just glossed over it because what I was asking was about that individual, not about any of the specific details.

You also probably know he didn’t discover America, because Amerigo Vespucci was there first. Or maybe you think Lief Eriksson was there first? Or maybe you’re already a step ahead of me and want to point out all the people who were there already, maybe even with some specific names like the Taino?

At birth from his Italian family, he was called Christoforo Colombo, and his name in Spanish was the far more fun Christobal Colon, which makes sense because he was quite a shit. And really, he wasn’t even ‘Italian’ because Italy didn’t exist yet!

But.

You know who I was talking about, right?

As these facts get knocked out underneath that signifier, you still knew the person I was talking about and why I brought him up.

And this is one of the problems when I talk about the mythical figures of Jesus and Moses.

I’ve said in the past that I’m a Jesus Mythicist, a term that’s become pretty fraught since I said it. Particularly, when I thought it was a pretty simple term with a clear meaning when I first started using it, it turns out that it’s got a whole range of meanings and I’ve had to be specific and clarify what I mean by it. I don’t subscribe to Richard Carrier’s theory of the entire Jesus cult appearing out of an entirely non-corporeal individual, and I don’t want to listen to Robert Price any more after hearing what he thinks of… well everyone who isn’t a white dude. What the fuck dude. Not that Carrier isn’t also a what the fuck dude, both of these guys seem to suck ass, but that’s a personal opinion and not actionable defamation.

But the thing is with my mythicism, I’ve said it’s that I don’t believe enough of the events in the New Testament attesting to what Jesus said or did to believe he existed. The counterpoint is that hey, there was definitely at least one apocalyptic preacher named [Jesus] in that period of history who got executed by the Romans. And note that [Jesus] in this case isn’t the word Jesus, but it’s the name of the guy that sometimes someone will translate to Joshua (which is as much a translation as Jesus is) and sometimes they’ll get all heroic on me and give it a Yeshua or whatever. Not important, not relevant. The thing is, this is a character who people can point to and like, mathematically, yeah, there absolutely is a guy with that name who died in that time in that way, it just seems so effortless and non-unique a thing. But that’s like, so what? You can get me to admit there was a dude with kinda that name in kinda that time and then that like, the majority of the stuff in the Bible about him didn’t happen, so what does that get you?  

And that’s enough for some people! “He was a real historical person” even if all the information we have about him is fundamentally suspect because it’s in a story that includes a zombie apocalypse and eclipse and also a dude coming back from the dead. The typical rejoinder is that all sorts of mythical information is held in other texts, and I don’t doubt (say) the existence of Alexander the Great. The comparison annoys me because the evidence of Alexander is a lot better, what with the multiple cities recording when he showed up and kicked their shit in.

But that’s what I mean when I say I’m a mythicist. I don’t believe there’s meaningful evidence that any of the things attributed to a real dude who really existed in the Bible. That’s not to say ‘I believe Jesus didn’t exist.’ It’s to say that the character Jesus as expressed by the name Jesus is, to me, functionally a fictional character.

But okay, this is just restating things you probably have heard from me before.

What about Moses?

See, the thing with Moses is that Moses is a little weirder. When I’m talking about Jesus, the commonality of that name is pretty comical, it’s like saying ‘was there a dude named David in my home city when I was born’ and yeah almost certainly. But Moses is a weirder thing because Moses, as a name, isn’t a Hebrew name. It is now, people name themselves after the historical figure, but in the time period, we don’t have records of other people with that name, or names like it in the similar text. Well, in Hebrew names. It’s actually pretty common to see the ‘mose’ term in Egyptian names. I’m being coy of course – it’s commonly accepted amongst Biblical scholars and Archaeologists that ‘Moses’ is actually more likely a name of Egyptian origin. Which gets even more interesting when you look at the archaeological history of Egypt and the historical territory of the Israelites.

Like, we can be very confident the Exodus didn’t happen. The numbers don’t add up, the impact on the environment doesn’t work, the distances are nonsense and oh yeah there’s all the magic in it that doesn’t happen. The Israelite language and cultural signs are all continuous with the surrounding areas, which is to say, the people the Bible considers as ‘Caananites’  (or Hittites  or Jebusites or Amalekites). There’s no challenging narrative here for me: The people of the community built up a backstory that justified their relationship to their god in their space and over time that story became the one we see and became entrenched enough to be recorded consistently and then Gutenberg does the printing press and we’re now bickering about the placement of commas.

But why does their backstory they invented for themselves include Egyptian oppression and a hero with an Egyptian name?

That’s interesting to me. That’s interesting because, if you view the Bible as a book made up of text written by people over time to achieve ends, then some of the stories start to make sense as patching things and addressing problems. Moses being a prince of Egypt (as it were) with his backstory about the death of the firstborn gives the story a lovely symmetry (God only killed all the firstborn of Egypt because, as it were, they started it). It also explains how a Jewish hero was raised in the Egyptian palace and had an Egyptian name. But also, why?

It reminds me of lines of continuity; at some point in the story, people were very sure about Moses being Moses, and they were very sure of him being an Egyptian Prince. There was someone with that name who was important, important enough to be the centrepiece of an entire story that just so happens to be about the Exodus.

And thus we come back to Christopher Columbus. Because when people make a fuss about ‘hey, there was a historical character of these people,’ so fucking what? Those historical personae were almost certainly wildly disconnected from what the book describing them and their actions are like. That there was some dude named Moses is interesting! But also, he definitely wasn’t the guy in the Bible. The thing in the Bible is made up of signifiers and he doesn’t care if there was a historical dude or not.

Jesus and Moses are both dudes who may have existed. But neither of the dudes that existed are the dudes that are depicted in their texts. Moses’ existence is interesting because I feel like you can see the seams in the text, you can see where stories got added or invented to address a problem and it’s a problem we don’t see. It’s more obvious in Jesus’ case, where this whole dude Barabbas was produced and Pontius Pilate said he’s not executing Jesus, please don’t put it out there on the internet that he was executing Jesus. Those things make some sense, with the aims you can tell of the competing sects around the story at the time.

But what about Moses?

It’s pretty easy to tell that there needed to be stories to justify various military conquests in the time. The Amalekites, for example, were basically considered an acceptable target because of their interference with the Exodus, which suggests that that part of the story was written so it was okay to attack the Amalekites at some point. Inventing stories about how terrible your neighbours are to justify murdering them was a whole thing, like you can see it even now where Christians say that the genocide of the Caananites with all the baby murder was good, actually, because the Caananites were so wicked that their infant babies deserved to be murdered. The story validates the moral position that justifies the action.

And we don’t know what the stories were, or what the stories changed to be, over time, as they took someone who was probably named Moses, and morphed them over time to explain things like why he had an Egyptian name, but was actually an Israelite, honest. After all, we wrote it down. Story says so. You wouldn’t doubt the story, would you?

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[ladyluscinia]

do you think Mary bonnet and Izzy would bond 👀 👀 bc the parallels ,,, I die

Ok, first, Izzy / Mary parallels are some of the greatest things in this show, so jot that down.

Like, 1x04 got me fucking hooked and set the baseline for everything I would care about from this show, meaning heavy focus on BlackHands boat divorce. 🤣🤣🤣 Izzy was a grumpy pirate guy who had been kicking around that I didn't have any problem with (probably because they really didn't set him up like a personal antagonist), and then all the sudden they are paralleling him to Stede's abandoned wife and I'm watching his relationship break down and his husband start flirting with a random dude and he files for divorce??? And then gets talked out of it with "I need you"?????

That's the good stuff.

Ahem. So, Mary and Izzy bonding... Well let's start by ditching the major practical concerns of Mary wanting nothing to do with pirates and Izzy wanting nothing to do with rich people. They meet in a way where any situational irritation that Mary has is directed at someone else, and Izzy has enough background info not to write Mary off as rich and awful. (This may not be terribly hard on Izzy's end. There's a lack of autonomy in a rich woman's choices and a different expectation of labor. He wouldn't sympathize with her as a victim because of wealth, but might see her as less culpable in his personal experience of class struggle. Also Mary used her freedom to immediately get a job and normal non-wealthy lover, which hits miles above buying your way into pirate captaincy while sucking.)

Bonding is hampered a bit by their wildly divergent lifestyles and general lack of reason to share, but if Mary is pissed at Stede she may rant a little bit and find a very warm reception for her irritation. They could get a fair amount of mutual respect just on "he thinks the world revolves around him and just expects things to work out" agreement. I also think Izzy probably just treats women like everyone else - Spanish Jackie would definitely enforce that - which Mary would prefer to being ignored or being deferred to in a very "delicate flower" way.

I want them to bond over Izzy trying to murder Stede to protect both his professional and love lives (with Mary skewer flashbacks like "same"), but I cannot see Izzy sharing enough details of his relationship with Edward to make that plausible. Alas.

I think the main obstacle would be engineering a very convoluted set of situations to force them to hang out long enough to bond. They would be more naturally inclined to a respectful acquaintance situation and then never seeing each other again. Maybe in a SteddyHands universe where Stede and his boyfriend and his boyfriend's boyfriend all end up in the kids' lives? So Mary tries to get to know them?

Hmmm... I think this one unfortunately would work better in an AU. Canon!Mary has just done too good a job at moving on with her life to be saddled with pirate drama.

[vanana-r0tat3]

ah mi amor 🤤 ouh this dude is so fun to draw it was hell but i had a lot of fun designing their jacket was inspired by @/rosiieesstuff's jacket she gave her sb oc!* QUICK EDIT- her jacket was actually designed by @/elkius so credit to her as well ALSO im a lazy shit so im just making gregory celia's kid JEJDHDJSJ

a bit of lore my jf wrote below the cut :)!!

Gregory's skipping school to go out to Freddy's, ala pizza simulator, because Celia working the night shift has been too exhausted to simply take Greg in the day themselves. Because, y'know, you aren't gonna want to go the place you're at 50% of the time that you know is a safety hazard and runs up your money until you're dry. Plus a lot of the disappearances are kids in Gregory's own class so Celia is really just like "We can go to chucky Cheese" and Greg is pissed because that place fucking sucks.

So maybe one day a classmate is going there for a birthday field trip kinda thing but could only afford enough to get Freddy for one last show. This tying into the show where Freddy conks out after seeing greg for the first time.

It's at least 10 bucks per kid to get in and Greg asks Celia but they say no so instead Greg sneaks out as Celia is sleeping before her shift to join his friend's party, keeping his head down and being able to slip by but as a consequence having to stick with a buddy because he didn't get a pass because he didn't have any money.

The party goes on for so long that Celia is on their shift and to avoid getting in trouble Greg sneaks into Freddy. Celia thinks they see him but cant be too sure since a lot of kids wear Greg's type of clothing

Celia doesn't notice Greg is gone before they leave out to work because he places a bunch of conveniently shaped pillows and turned off his lights so Celia is like "oh cool hes taking a nap for once" and goes to work why threy didnt get a babysitter to take care of gregory while they went to work i do not know

= now some extra stuff

- Gregory will call Celia “Mamá” when generally referring to them, but will call them “Nody” directly - Lore reasons for why Gregory's white, blame his mom HRJRFDHJGFJ - Celia is fine working with kids but actually hates them. Gregory is the exception, hes a brat but hes THEIR brat (they would say this with love) - Celia is 27-28, had Gregory a bit young but he was a happy accident - They are literally both bastard shitheads and probably bump heads a lot, but Celia does love the little guy tons - Celia is also Chilean (south american/latino) - They didnt teach Gregory much spanish, mostly just small words and phrases. though they themself can speak it fluently

[redpandaramblings]

Sweet Treats  Sero Hanta x F!Reader Birthday fic.

Happy birthday, @reinawritesbnha!!!  Wanted to write you a silly little fic that I hope you enjoy.

Content Warnings:-  Not SFW situations, cake destruction, nudity, crude humor, Mineta mention, awkward situations, mentions of food, mentions of drinking, probably incorrect Spanish, aged up characters.

Spanish translations are provided at the very bottom of the fic.  I suggest waiting to look them up to avoid spoilers.

Y/n protested playfully as her friend dragged her towards the well known restaurant.  “Come on, this place is too fancy.  Pro heroes eat here!  There’s no way we’re getting in without a reservation.”

Her friend laughed, continuing to lead her towards the door.  “One, it’s not too fancy for your birthday.  Two, we do have a reservation!  It’s a weekday, so it actually wasn’t too difficult to get in.  Sucks a little that we can’t party as hard, but we get to celebrate on your actual birthday, so it all works out!  Now come on!  Everyone else is inside already getting everything set up.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, but followed along without further protest.  She really had wanted to go here.  They served some of her favorite foods, and had fabulous service by all reports.  The place was really popular with the pro hero set because of their discretion and their private rooms.  Y/n hoped to maybe catch a glimpse of one of her favorites, but honestly, chances were slim.

Without any fuss, a waiter took their names and escorted them to their reserved private room.  A cheer greeted them as they walked in.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N!!!!”

“Let’s get this party started!”

And get started they did.  Drinks were served and food orders were placed.  Laughter and conversation bubbled around.  Someone pulled out Cards Against Humanity and everyone was cackling and cracking jokes, trying to find the most inappropriate answers to all the prompts.  The fun is briefly interrupted as someone knocks on the door.  A few waitstaff wheel in a covered table holding a rather large cake.  They place it in a good position before bowing and hurrying out.

One of y/n’s friends stands and walks over to it, brows furrowed in confusion.  “This doesn’t look like what we ordered…  It’s way too big.” They murmured.  “What we wanted shouldn’t need it’s own table…”  They rapped their knuckles on the table a few times to emphasize their point.

Suddenly it was like the cake exploded upward.  Flecks of frosting scattered about the room as first a brunet head, then a muscular torso came into view.  Shapely arms pose into a flexing position.  A masculine voice booms “Congrats on making the top…  fifty….”  His voice trailed off as he took in the shocked expressions of everyone in the room.  “Youuuu are not Denki.”

Y/n shook her head as she tried very hard to keep her gaze above his waist level.  A man had just jumped out of her cake.  A naked man had just jumped out of her cake.  A naked pro hero that she happened to have a massive crush on had just jumped out of her cake.  Y/n discretely pinched herself on the thigh.  Yep, it hurt.  Which means Sero Hanta was currently naked in the same room as her, his very nice looking cock covered in cake and cream.  She snapped her gaze back upward as the blushing hero began muttering to himself, clearly on the verge of a panic attack. 

“That was…  The knocks were the cue…  I mean…”

The hero sank to his knees, the messy remains of the box and cake giving him a little bit of privacy.   

“Mi vida se acabó.  Me acurrucaré en este pastel y moriré ahora.  Puedo ver los titulares.  El héroe profesional Cellophane encontrado desnudo y muerto en un pastel.”

Y/n quickly stood up, hurrying over to where the leftover party supplies were.  Luckily, there was a leftover tablecloth, since the restaurant had supplied their own.  She cautiously walked back over to Sero, holding out the tablecloth.

“Hey, it’s alright.  Promise.  Want to cover up with this?”

Sero blinked a few times, taking several deep breaths before he nodded, reaching out and taking the tablecloth.  He hurriedly wrapped it around himself, recovering some of his modesty.  “Gracias.  Lo siento.  I must have been wheeled into the wrong room.”  

Y/n nodded as one of her friends brought Sero a drink to help calm him down.  “Want us to get some staff or find your friends?  I don’t think you want to wear a tablecloth the rest of the night, though it is a rather bold fashion statement.”

Sero closed his eyes, taking a gulp of his drink as he thought for a moment.  “Flag down some staff, but ask them to bring Kirishima here?  He should have my clothes.”

“No need to get dressed on our account!”  One of y/n’s friends chirped.

“In fact we could strip if you want.  Make it all an equal playing field.”  Another friend said as they headed out the door in search of someone to help them.

Y/n buried her face in her hands and groaned.  “I’m going to murder you all.  No court would convict me.  Murder is legal on your birthday, right?”

“Wait, it’s your birthday?”  For the first time since he popped out of the cake, Hanta took his time to actually look around the room.  Black, white, and yellow balloons hung in the corners.  Crepe paper twisted around the edges of the room.  Some presents were piled in one corner.  “Oh Dios Mio, it’s your birthday.  My naked ass ruined your birthday.”

“Not ruined.”  Y/n chuckled, dropping her hands so she could look Sero in the eyes.  “Unexpected for sure.  You’ve definitely made this the most exciting birthday I’ve had.  Will be telling the story for years.  The time I accidentally got a naked man for my birthday.”

Sero raised his eyebrows.  “Not gonna mention the pro hero part?  Some people would pay good money for that, I’m sure.”

Y/n vigorously shook her head.  “No way!  I wouldn’t want to hurt your career like that!  You’ve got lots more important stuff to do than to do damage control on your public image.  I promise it doesn’t leave this room.”

The others in the room nodded and spoke up in agreement.  “Yeah dude.  Honest mistake.  We’ll laugh about it amongst ourselves, then forget about it.”

About this time, the door burst open.

“Dude!”

A blond rushed into the room.  Denki, took a moment to take in the scene in front of him before he doubled over, howling with laughter.  Kirishima, Bakugou, and Mina followed shortly behind.

“Sorry,” Kirishima rubbed his head, slightly embarrassed.  “Once Denks figured out what was going on, we couldn’t stop him.”

“This is better than if it had gone right!”  Denki wheezed, flopping over onto the floor.  “Happy birthday, nice to meet you!  Here’s my dick, give it a lick, it tastes like vanilla!”  Kaminari dissolved into nearly hysterical laughter as both Sero and y/n flushed scarlet.  Bakugou gave Denki a less than gentle boot to the ribs.  “It’s not that funny you fucking overgrown phone charger.  You really need to quit hanging out with Mineta.”

“I don’t know, guys, I think it’s pretty funny.”  Mina grinned as leaned against the doorframe.  “And I must say, the tablecloth toga is on point.  Should consider it for your next costume redesign.”

“Hardy har.  Didn’t realize this was comedy hour.  Now, did any of you payasos bring me my clothing?”

Kirishima held up a bag and gave it a shake.  “Clothes and wipes to get the gunk off ya.”

“Gracias, Eijiro.  You’re the only good man here.”

“Hey!” Bakugou objected.

“You’ll make the buen amigo list again if you manage to get services comped for these lovely folks.”

“Already did that as soon as we figured out what happened, soy sauce face.”

“Excellent.  Thank you.”  Sero sighed.  “Now can you please help me out of this table so that I can get dressed and quit intruding on the party of this encantadora dama?”

“Nope!”  Mina laughed.  “Or at least not right away.  First, pictures!”

“¿Imágenes? ¿Seriamente?”  Sero groaned.

“Absolutely!  We need to capture this moment forever!”

“Agreed!  I’ll take the pics so everyone else can crowd in and hand me your cameras if you want!” y/n’s friend piped up.

“If any of these pictures get out…” Bakugou growled.

“We’ve already been over that.  Personal mementos only!  Scout’s honour!”  y/n’s friend placed a hand over their heart and tried to tame their grin into something more serious.

And so that’s how y/n found herself perched next to her favorite hero, as flash after flash went off, taking group shots.  And it seemed that also just as quickly, Kirishima was helping to haul his friend out of the cake and cardboard remains.  They took over a corner, Denki and Kirishima holding up the tablecloth like a privacy curtain while Sero got himself cleaned up and dressed.  It was around this time that a very apologetic staff member showed up with a large angel food cake, placing it on the table while assuring everyone that their bills had been taken care of.  They wheeled out the other cake as they left.  After Sero was fully dressed, y/n cleared her throat and said,  “Would you like to stay for cake since yours is gone now?  Or have you had enough cake for the night?”

“Well,” Sero drawled, a mischievous grin on his face.  “I’m not rude enough to refuse a lady her wish on her birthday.”

“You had me at cake!”  Denki exclaimed, already sliding into a chair.

Everyone gathered around the table.  Happy Birthday was sung, candles were blown out, cake was cut and distributed.  Conversation flowed surprisingly easy, talking about jobs, and pets, and birthdays past.  Y/n shared about the birthday they’d almost accidentally set their nan on fire due to an unfortunate silly string incident.  Sero told about the birthday that was the day his quirk fully activated and he had accidentally taped himself to the ceiling.  It had taken his family half an hour to find him.  Bakugou claimed to have never had an embarrassing birthday, and threatened to explode his friends' faces when the rest of the Bakusquad started listing one thing after another.  And so several hours flew by with everyone enjoying themselves.  Bakugou finally looked at the clock and stretched, standing up.

“Hey nerds, place if going to close soon.  We need to go grab our shit.”

The others glanced at the clock before also scrambling up.  “Shit, yeah, completely lost track of time!”  Denki headed to the door.  “Later, gators!  Had an awesome night!  Should do it again sometime.  And happy birthday, Y/n!”

“Thanks, was a great night!  And congrats on cracking the top fifty!”  Y/n called.

Denki waved as he walked out the door.  Mina, Kirishima, and Bakugou also said their goodbyes and headed out.  Sero, however, lingered for a bit.

“It did turn out to be a good night.  But I am still sorry for interrupting your party like that.”

“For the last time, it’s fine”  Y/n laughed.

Sero cast his eyes down, bashfully, mumbling protests. But then, he noticed something attached to your bag. He interrupted his own rambling apology to ask “Is that a Cellophane tape dispenser key chain?”

Really, he didn’t have to ask. He knew all his own merch. That particular key chain was one of his first products. It hadn’t sold very well, and had only lasted one small run. They were really hard to find anymore. 

Before y/n had a chance to reply, her friend clapped her on the shoulder and said “Yep! She has three of them. One on her purse, a spare in case this one breaks, and one to keep in pristine condition.”

“Shut!  Up!” Y/n hissed.

Grinning, her friend continued.  “Pretty sure she has at least one of everything of the official merch.  She’s been a mega fan for years.  Total simp.  That’s why the party colors were black, white, and yellow.  Low key Cellophane themed.”

Y/n closed her eyes, resigned.  “If the floor doesn’t swallow me up right now, I’m burning your Dynamite body pillow next chance I get.”

Sero blushed as he grinned, one long arm raising to scratch the back of his head.  “Well now I don’t feel quite so bad about what happened.  One of a kind birthday show for my partidaria número uno.”

Y/n could feel their blush creeping down their neck.  “Really, it was just an honest mistake!  No big deal!”  She squeaked.

“Regardless, I do want to make it up to you, hermosa.  So, how about we exchange numbers?”

“What?!”  Y/n’s squeak reached an abnormally high pitch.

“Well this way we can get in touch, and I can make it up to you somehow.  Some exclusive merch.  Tickets to an event…  A date perhaps?”  Hanta’s grin spread wider.

Y/n’s brain stalled.  Her friends were quick to jump in.  “Yes!”

“She’d love to.”

“She’s free next Friday and Sunday!”

Y/n’s brain started to kick back in “Guys, what?  No!”

“So you wouldn’t like to go out with me next Sunday?”  Hanta whined with an exaggerated pout.

“No!  I mean…”  Y/n drew a deep shaking breath.  “I’d… I’d like that.  If you actually mean it, that is.”

Hanta pulled out his phone and handed it to y/n.  “Absolutely.  Just put in your number and I’ll text you.  No voy a dejar pasar esta oportunidad.  Tendríamos la mejor historia para contarles a nuestros hijos cómo nos conocimos.”

Y/n furrowed their eyebrows, only managing to catch a few words of the Spanish as they entered their number in.  “I didn’t quite catch all that…”

One of y/n’s friends called from across the room.  “Hey slick!  Es mejor que al menos haya una propuesta antes de planificar los hijos.”

Hanta blushed bright red while laughing.  “Noted.”

Y/n handed Sero his phone back.  “Neither of you are going to tell me what you said, are you?”

“Nope!  I’ll be texting you soon, hermosa.  But for now, hasta luego.”  Sero waved before jogging out the door and down the hallway, heading back to his friends.  Y/n waved, before going to help clean up, ignoring the giggles and teasing of her friends.  Soon enough, everything was taken care of.  Y/n said her goodbyes and headed out.  She hadn’t even made it to the car before her phone buzzed in her pocket.  When she pulled it out, there was a text from an unknown number that read “I can’t wait to see what the future brings.  Happy Birthday,  Princesa.”

My life is over.

I'll curl up in this cake and die now.

I can see the headlines. Professional hero Cellophane found naked and dead in a cake.

Thank you.  I’m sorry.

My God.

Clowns

Thanks

Good friend.

Lovely lady.

Pictures?  Seriously?”

Number one fan.

Beautiful.

I will not miss this opportunity. We would have the best story to tell our children how we met.

There better at least be a proposal before you plan of children.

Princess

Taglist- @kat-unzel

[blush-and-books]

i'm about to pass out but needed to write this - JATP + school headcanons

*disclaimer: I am only evaluating their attitudes and performance in what are considered "core" classes in my state. Idk if it is universal. These are also generalizations -- ik theres different types of math and science that they are taking

LUKE

He inspired this so we start with the king

ENGLISH CLASS: He excelled. Somehow, unknowingly, became his teacher's favorite. Did the homework for this class and ONLY this class. A+

MATH CLASS: B-/C+. Does not like math, hates it actually, never did the homework. Somehow averaged a B+/A- on tests and quizzes because he would have Reggie tutor him days before in preparation. Teacher always shocked at how he managed.

HISTORY CLASS: Did not do the homework, but still, like, paid attention?? Had it with all the guys so there were funny moments and events to associate with each lesson and lecture and somehow he remembered it. Again, did not do the homework. Maybe if he was super bored. C+/B-

SCIENCE CLASS: Skipped it most of the time. Would show up for labs and experiments even if he had no clue what was going on. Bobby tried to help but Luke was so uninterested lol, and the teacher was v boring!!! Not fun. D+

LANGUAGE: Took Spanish because its what everyone did??? He thought it would be the most useful but it ended up being such a mistake. He thought that English was complicated, but shit!!! Hard :(( Julie tried to revive his education but fails often (but hes really faking it bc he just wants to keep hearing her speak Spanish and try to teach him). D+/C-

JULIE

ENGLISH CLASS: Aces all of her essays. Emotionally attached to all of her female English teachers!! Sometimes her interpretations of the books are a little off but literally everyone's are. Loves English. A-/A

MATH CLASS: Gifted kid syndrome but only with math if that makes sense?? Got super ahead in elementary and middle school but now that shes in high school she barely knows what's going on and is running out of math classes to take because she was able to jump so much from middle to high school. Has to study the most for this one. Thank god for Reggie. B-

HISTORY CLASS: Could take it or leave it! Likes the subject but hates the teacher. Does well on tests to spite them. Doodles too much on her homework and it annoys the teacher v much. A-

SCIENCE CLASS: kinds vibes ngl??? Something kinds cool about it. Has Flynn in the class, a fun young science teacher, and they all just have a really good time. Julie never really liked science but with the right people and environment shes flourishing!!! A

LANGUAGE: Did not have to take one -- took a fluency exam in Spanish her freshman year. Has minor superiority complex every time Flynn complains about not knowing her language.

REGGIE

ENGLISH CLASS: Got distracted hella easily... Not very fun :( teacher didn't understand that he had ADHD and learned things in a different way. Luke tried to help him cheat on tests tho so he didnt have to repeat the class. D+/C-

MATH CLASS: GENIUS!?!?!?!? GENIUS. Literally took two math classes one year bc he could. Somehow it all made sense. Really loved how numbers were consistent and clearly right or wrong; not subjective. Teachers loved him because he was always kind and positive and brought a smile to everyones face. A+++

HISTORY CLASS: Did not suck at it??? Kinda cool stuff and fun times with his besties. Did better in the class than any of them. Teacher was a total prick tho and Reggie was also late because it was their period right after lunch and he was a slow eater and the teacher didnt allow food. Again: teacher was a prick. B+

SCIENCE CLASS: Enjoyed the labs and experiments, usually aced those because he has exceptional attention to detail. Everything else, not so much. Certain concepts were just very hard to grasp and he had a hard time creating ways to remember things. C+

LANGUAGE: He took French because he knew his mom took French when she was in high school and he thought she could help him and they could bond. That plan didn't really work out -- but he still did okay, even if his mom didn't pay attention. B-

ALEX

ENGLISH CLASS: In between Luke and Reggie -- read the books and retained most of the information, but the essays were not it. He really liked class discussions even though the teacher would tell him his interpretations were wrong (how do you interpret something incorrectly?? Art is up for interpretation?? He will never quite understand). B+/B-

MATH CLASS: Kill him. Least favorite class. Hates math and has hated math since his first lesson on fractions broke his spirit in third grade. Reggie helped him through most of it but shit really did not click. Did his best because his parents would be mad if he didn't. C-/C+

HISTORY CLASS: Very into history for some unknown reason??? The TA in the class was hot so he made sure to pay attention and make a good impression. He was often apologizing for the behavior of his bandmates. A+

SCIENCE CLASS: Did not hate it!!! Had the fun young new teacher instead of the same old dude that had been there for 20 years. She was really fun and sweet (and totally got the vibe he was gay and was super supportive)!!! He didnt quite understand everything but still worked his ass off. B+

LANGUAGE: French with Reggie because he thought it was a more romantic language. Quickly realized his mistake and switched to Spanish the next year. Realized his mistake again (the mistake being that he would be good at learning a new language) and stopped trying lol. C+

FLYNN

ENGLISH CLASS: Her essays are well written because Julie edits all of them. Like Alex, is always told that she is reading the text wrong?? The two of them bond mega over that. Just because she has a wider imagination does not mean she should be punished for it!!! B+

MATH CLASS: Geometry is her jam but algebra makes her wanna commit every degree of murder. Sometimes it clicks and sometimes it definitely does not. Probably dont ask her for help because shes awful at explaining things. B-

HISTORY CLASS: Hates it here!!!!!!!! She hates the curriculum, hates the lecturing, and constantly either feels bored or singled out in every lesson. Is advocating in the district for textbook and curriculum reform to include diverse and pan-ethnic studies. C-

SCIENCE CLASS: Her favorite class!!!!!! Loves everything about it. She isnt learning how the world works through history but instead through the facts of science. She feels invincible in the lab and like she has so much more to discover. She particularly enjoys astronomy. A+

LANGUAGE: Spanish so that Julie could help her out!!! Can barely utter more than 2 sentences in conversation but is perfect on paper and that's more than half of the battle. A-

[poisonedapples]

Roman Gets Help 1/5: Bad Nights

Part One: Virgil

Part Summary: Roman is always trying to make his anxiety more manageable with a bunch of different tactics. But a disorder is a disorder, and some days are worse than others. But at least his best friend Virgil is around to help.

Part of the Service Dog AU!

Pairings: Platonic Prinxiety

Warnings: Past panic attacks, medication, anxiety, Remus making poop jokes because he’s Remus, swearing and food mentions

Word Count: 2,751

Taglist: @hold-our-destiny @pricklyfish777 @romansleftshoulderpad

Notes: Cornybird on Ao3 deserves Many Squishmallows for editing so much of my stuff, including this. So send visual squishmallow vibes to her, she deserves it

Virgil really should have known something was weird when Roman didn’t text back.

The two had made plans during lunch to meet up at Roman’s house so he could help with Virgil’s Spanish homework. Roman was infinitely better with language stuff than Virgil could ever dream to be, and even when the work was done, it was always nice to hang out in his room and get away from his wild parents every once in a while. But since Roman left school early and Virgil had to stay after for band practice, he hadn’t heard or seen Roman in a while.

That in itself wasn’t weird, though. What was weird was that when Virgil texted him that he was on his way, Roman didn’t respond. Not even with an emoji reaction or a simple ‘okay’. But even then, what was even weirder was that Virgil was right outside his door, texting Roman to open it for him, and he still wasn’t responding.

Virgil checked the last three messages he sent to Roman’s phone. All of them were marked as delivered but not read, which was also very concerning. What could Roman be doing that he hadn’t checked his phone in thirty minutes? Virgil got anxious when he didn’t read messages immediately, let alone waiting half an hour.

Virgil sent him one last text before putting his phone away. You there? I’m outside.

No response. Virgil knocked on the door and shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting and shifting on his feet for someone to open the door. After a couple minutes, he started to think Roman had just forgotten.

However, a slight spark of hope rose up in him at the sound of the front door opening. But when Virgil looked up from his shoes to the person at the door, he felt his shoulders sag.

It wasn’t Roman who had opened the door. There was no shy and apologetic smile with Princess right under his feet. Instead, it was his bastard brother in ripped jeans and a green tank top, blowing bubblegum like a bully in a 90s Nickelodeon show.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite emo! What brings you here, Raven Way?” Remus asked, leaning on the door frame with a cocky smile.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “You’ve already used that one.”

“It’s my favorite nickname for you. It’s the perfect brand of insulting. It has spice to it.”

“I’m glad you’re entertained then. Is Roman out somewhere?”

Remus cocked an eyebrow. “No, he’s been up in his room. Last I checked he was as passed out as a corpse.”

“Okay...can I come in then?”

Remus smiled and opened the door for Virgil, taking a bow as he stepped inside. Virgil rolled his eyes again. This guy is so fucking weird. “You know where his room and the shitter is. Just follow the trail of dog hair to his royal highness.”

“You terrify me, Remus.”

“Good! That’s the aesthetic I’m going for. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with a bigass thing of chili dip in the fridge that may or may not be expired. We’ll see!” Virgil’s eyes narrowed as Remus skipped back to the kitchen and right to the fridge, but he really didn’t want to be around for that mess. Instead, Virgil went upstairs and turned left to Roman’s room, the colorful Disney decorations covering his door. Virgil knocked twice, but when met with no answer, he came inside anyway.

The first thing Virgil noticed was the lights. The windows and blinds were shut tight so no sunlight could get through while Roman’s fairy lights around his room were turned on. The soft twinkling gave the room a feeling of calmness, but the sight on the bed was more concerning than tranquil. Princess was sat down on top of the bed comforter with two arms wrapped around her, Roman blending in with the sheets he was under as he shoved his face in his dog’s fur. At least she didn’t seem to mind.

Roman looked up at the sound of the door opening. Virgil felt his heart sink when he saw the tear streaks down his face and his messed up hair, but Roman tried his best to respond to Virgil anyway. “Hey…”

Virgil took off his shoes and threw his backpack onto the floor next to the door. “Hey, dude. You look like shit.”

Roman made a strange huff sound, probably meant to be a laugh. “Thanks.”

He buried his face back into Princess’ fur, and Virgil felt that pang of worry grow stronger. He moved to the other side of the bed, sitting alongside Roman and his pile of blankets and pillows. “You okay?”

Roman shrugged. “I’m doing better.”

“What happened?”

“Panic attack.”

Virgil sucked the air through his teeth as a way to say yikes. “Seems like it was a pretty bad one.”

Princess rolled over onto Roman’s chest, and Roman cuddled even closer than what Virgil thought was possible. He looked so small when he did that. “Worse than usual.”

“Do you know what caused it?”

“No. Sometimes it just happens.” Roman kissed the top of Princess’ head. “Anxiety just...does that.”

“Yeah, I get it. Trust me, out of everyone you know, I’d probably be the one to understand it the most.”

“...Yeah.”

An awkward silence fell between the two of them. Virgil didn’t actually know what to do when Roman was like this. He’s stopped him from having panic attacks in the past, but he’d never seen him look this bad. Roman was curled in on himself under the covers, gripping onto Princess for dear life in an attempt to soothe himself. His pile of stuffed animals usually spread around the bed were now in a giant pile around his body, and his weighted blanket poked out from under the comforter too. It looked like he was trying his hardest to get comfortable, and Virgil didn’t know what else he could do. A distraction? A nap?

Well, only one way to find out.

Virgil took a deep breath in. “...Is there any way I can help?”

Roman shrugged again. “Not that I know.”

“Did you take a nap? That usually helps me the most.”

“I just woke up. My meds knocked me out.”

“Your meds?”

Roman took a pill bottle from his nightstand and showed it to Virgil. He read the confusing label that all medicine bottles have, but the name of the pills was long and unfamiliar in Virgil’s mind. Roman placed them back once Virgil got a good look and curled in on himself more. “Panic attack meds. They help you calm down really quick when you’re having an attack. They always put me to sleep after. Remus likes to call them my tranquilizer dart.”

Virgil snorted. “I mean...accurate name. I’ve just never seen you with those before.”

“I only take them on bad days. My therapist warned me about how I shouldn’t take them after every panic attack, because then I’ll never learn how to deal with them on my own, and I might get addicted. Which I’d rather not.”

“Yeah, I know about the addiction thing. I used to be on anti-anxiety until last year.”

Roman tilted his head up to look at Virgil for the first time. “Really?”

“Yup. I got eased off them after a while, though. Now I just take an antidepressant, which honestly isn’t much. I think everyone in our friend group is on some kind of meds.”

“...Patton?” Roman asked.

“Patton’s one depressed mother fucker. I say that out of love, but yes, he’s also on antidepressants.”

“And Logan?”

“...Dude. Epilepsy.”

Roman let out a silent oh. “...I forgot you take meds for that.”

“Our brains are fucked up and we accept this.”

Roman flashed a small smile but didn’t respond. After that, the two had fell silent as Virgil awkwardly patted a beat on his leg to put his nervous fidgeting to use.

What do you do for someone getting out of a panic attack? It was obvious Roman wasn’t in a talking mood, but it was killing him inside to just...sit there while he looked so helpless. But he’d never had to deal with this with a friend before. The worst he’d dealt with were Patton’s bad depression days, and those had nothing on how horrible Roman looked right now. And if he already took a nap...what else were you supposed to do after a panic attack?

Virgil thought back to his own experiences. Of course, Virgil’s anxiety was nothing compared to Roman’s, but it was better than nothing. And comfort worked no matter how bad you felt, even if it was only a little.

He thought back to his own parents. How his mom would hold him and let him cry into his shoulder if he needed to, but that was too awkward for him to do with Roman. His dad would let him curl up and watch him play games on the console, which could maybe work…

...Then Virgil remembered another thing his mom did once after one of his worst panic attacks. It might be a bit embarrassing because of intimacy, but it would help Roman feel better. And that’s all that matters.

“I’m gonna go get some stuff, okay?” Virgil said, “You stay right here.”

Roman hummed. “Wasn’t planning on going anywhere, but okay.”

With that, Virgil hopped out of Roman’s bed and left the bedroom.

First, he needed a water bottle. Roman probably had some water when he took his meds, but it likely wasn’t enough to stop a headache after all the crying. Virgil went downstairs to the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. While he was there, he looked through the rest of the fridge and noticed that there was no container of chili dip in there anymore. Gross.

Expired chili dip aside, he would need a face rag as well. Virgil went through a hallway on the first floor to the older bathroom downstairs, looking through the drawers for a decent cloth. A small one was hidden in the back of the drawer with some bottles of face wash and lotion, so Virgil grabbed that and took a mental note to put it back later. He stood in front of the faucet and stared at it for a while.

Was cold or hot water better for getting tears off someone’s face? Warm water seemed like it’d be more comfortable, but cold water could also be more refreshing. He thought about the possibilities for a while and settled on warm based on his own preferences, turning the hot and cold handles to where the water was only slightly warm, wetting a side of the cloth then turning the faucet off.

Before he left the bathroom, Virgil grabbed a couple squares of toilet paper and then headed out the door. He was back in Roman’s room not even five minutes later, setting his stuff on the nightstand for a second as he grabbed his DS from his bag and turned it on. Roman glanced up from the bed with a confused look, but didn’t say anything. Virgil came back next to the bed and motioned for Roman to move to the middle. Reluctantly, and with some shifting of Princess still at his side, Roman did so.

Virgil sat in Roman’s old spot and grabbed the wad of toilet paper. “Here, sit up and blow your nose. The last thing you need right now is more breathing problems.”

Roman grunted as she shimmied out from under his weighted blanket to sit up against the headboard of his bed. He took the toilet paper from Virgil and blew. “...Thanks.”

“No problem. Now just stick with me for this next part, because I’m not good with touchy-touchy shit, so this’ll be a little awkward.”

Roman gave Virgil a confused look, but he didn’t say anything. He grabbed the damp cloth and silently tilted Roman’s head to face him. Virgil tentatively lifted the cloth to his face and wiped the tears from under his eyes, the gesture mixed with the warm water making Roman hum in content. Virgil didn’t acknowledge what was happening, he just wiped off his friend’s face, flipping to the dry part of the cloth to dry him off after.

“There. That should help you feel less gross, anyway.”

“Thanks...it helped.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” Virgil set the cloth to the side and handed Roman the water bottle. “And drink this, it’ll help with that nasty headache you probably have.”

Roman twisted the cap open and chugged the bottle, finishing half of it in record speed before putting it down again. Virgil could tell by how fast he chugged it that his head was probably throbbing.

“Feeling a little better now?” Roman nodded. “Wanna watch me play Harvest Moon until you probably pass out again?”

He nodded again, Virgil scooting closer to him so Roman could place his head on his shoulder as he watched. His hand combed through Princess’ fur as Princess trapped the other under her paw to lick. Most people would think it was gross, but considering licking was one of her grounding techniques, he was desensitized to it by now. “Which one do you have?”

“A New Beginning. I’ll show you all my cows because they’re bomb as fuck. My first cow is named Oven and I have a baby one named Chaos.”

Roman laughed as Virgil started up the game. “Awesome. You play it often?”

“Eh, sometimes. It’s not my favorite game, but I carry it with me because it’s good for calming anxiety down. All I gotta do is feed my animals and mine and shit. Nothing else matters, you know?”

Roman nodded as best he could from Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil loaded up his save file and started to show Roman around his farm, mostly skipping the crops and going straight to the pets and farm animals with the most ridiculous names Virgil could get away with using only six letters. Virgil chatted away about his game and read all the speech bubbles out loud, showing off his wife who he swears he married platonically since his character was obviously gay and talking about his rivalry with the hair stylist. Roman wasn’t responding much, just a few hums and little laughs here and there, but Virgil didn’t mind. So long as his friend was feeling better, that was all that mattered.

A while later, Virgil was baking desserts for a contest being held in town when he spoke up again. “I’m shit at cooking good stuff in this game, but I can make some neat pancakes, apparently. I’m gonna make this contest my bitch.”

There was no response. That wasn’t very strange in itself, but usually when Virgil sweared, Roman at least made a small huff of a laugh from his shoulder. But this time, he was completely quiet. Virgil looked over at his shoulder when he almost awwww’ed out loud.

Roman had fallen back asleep, his mouth open slightly with his arms cuddling Princess extra close as she seemed to relax alongside him. He was adorable, and in a moment of softness that Virgil would deny to the end of his days, he helped Roman to lay back in bed and brushed the hair out of his face. Roman still clung slightly to him even as he slept, so Virgil accepted his fate and moved to curl up alongside him, continuing his game with a smile on his face.

“Your sleep schedule is gonna be absolutely fucked, dude.” Virgil said. There was no response, obviously, and Virgil didn’t talk to his sleeping friend after that. He just took a mental note to tell his parents he was staying the night before it got too late and kept caring for his farm.

Maybe later he’d wake Roman up and get him some dinner, letting him recharge and take a shower before they actually had to go to bed. He’d be too awake to actually sleep at first, but the company of his friend and the comfort of his dog would keep him calm through that, even when Roman hated being awake past eleven. Patton may even find out and tease Virgil about having a heart after all, which Virgil would deny until the end of his days. But his edgy reputation wasn’t what mattered right now.

Instead, Virgil smiled and cuddled closer as Roman slept peacefully.

[thewhizzyhead]

HELLO SOME OF YOU GUYS LIKED MISFITS AND SOME OF YOU GUYS LIKED GRADE 11 (i posted about that musical draft thingy back in march and um yea there have been a lot of changes fjxjf) AND GUESS WHAT DUDES I HAVE MORE MUSICAL CONCEPT SHITS TO RAMBLE ABOUT BECAUSE MY BRAIN IS WAY TOO HYPERACTIVE FOR MY OWN GOOD SO SIT BACK, RELAX AND ENJOY THIS CLUSTERFUCK

@ari-is-anxious have fun with this and i wish you the best of luck in trying to comprehend this-

+ Kasaysayan (which means History) - this is the 2nd musical concept thingy i made (the first one being Misfits) and yea i started thinking of this went I was 14. I kinda wanted it to tell a story of like the entirety of philippine history as narrated by students and i wanted to kinda emphasize how history has many faces and how many different factors essentially blur our perspective of what we view as the past. I also wanted to like draw parallels between what our ancestors have experienced and what we currently experience esp when it comes to sociopolitical and economic stuffs and I wanted to like correct a lot of misconceptions about ph history and provide more insight and info about ph's past (i.e how centuries of colonialism have affected our current culture and overall social mindset esp in regards to our want for validation from foreigners aka the whole #PinoyPride thing; how even though activism and revolution is like the main reason on as to why the Philippines even exists, it continues to be demonized here; the ideologies of some of our revolutionary heroes and presidents and why some of them are dicks; etc etc). Also I wanted to showcase like um PH music, art, and dance and how that has progressed and also regressed throughout the years (*shakes fist at colonizers*) and um YEA YOU CAN SEE WHY I EVENTUALLY AND RATHER QUICKLY DISCONTINUED THIS TJCJSJF THIS IS *NOT* DOABLE AT ALL THSJFHF it could work as a concept album and a one-time performance BUT NOT LIKE A LEGIT PRODUCTION SO YEA FOR NOW IT WILL STAY IN THE DRAFT FOLDER FJXNSJF but yea this idea then led to the next two ideas woo

+ Noli/Fili - started wanting to make this at the start of quarantine so like um march 2020 heck i even made a wholeass word doc for this fjdjdv so it's basically a ph-rock-rap-based musical adaptation of Jose Rizal's Noli Me Tangere (Touch Me Not) and El Filibusterismo (The Filibuster) (yes these two novels are like tne national novels here since rizal is our national here and yea these were originally written in Spanish) but the protagonist of El Fili (Simoun) takes charge of telling Noli's story in Act 1 while Noli's protag (Crisostomo Ibarra) takes charge of telling Fili's story in Act 2. Those two books have very different tones and those two characters have um VERY DIFFERENT world views so i thought it would be interesting to tell one's story through the eyes of someone different and yet also the same to provide a lot more insight on how the events in the novels affected these two protags (there is a Good Reason for this and um Filipinos who studied this in 9th and 10th grade know what i'm talking about fhshf if u wanna um know what i'm talking about and don't wanna read the novels (they are very long) i suggest looking up El Filibusterismo and um yea check out Simoun fjsjf). Like for example, there would be times that Noli's narrator (Simoun) (whose general demeanor is like um a lot more cunning and cynical and a lot more resentful of the events that have happened compared to Fili's narrator) would directly question the Noli protag's (Ibarra) actions while Fili's narrator (Ibarra) (he is a lot more um hopeful and peaceful compared to Simoun) often questions how Fili's protag (Simoun) turned into well um a very cynical and cunning person with a taste for revenge (I am trying my hardest to NOT spoil the novels here gjdjf) and yea because the story is set in Spanish Colonial times here, i wanna focus more on the sociopolitical aspects and problems in the novels and how those still remain relevant here, hence the ph-rock-rap-based music. Also I would like to point out that the curriculum here barely like goes into depth about the subject matter of the novels (esp the sociopolitcal parts) and how said subject matter shaped the characters here and HOW EVERY SINGLE THING IN THIS DAMN NOVEL IS STILL RELEVANT,,,so um basically the curriculum is currently missing the entire point of the novels since Rizal wrote these two with the intent to provide socioecononic and political commentary on the pure shit that many of the Filipinos experienced under Spanish colonial rule,,,SO THIS THINGY IS BASICALLY MY MIDDLE FINGER TO THE CURRICULUM AND ESSENTIALLY MY ATTEMPT TO SHOW MORE OF THE NOVELS COMPARED TO WHAT HAS BEEN TAUGHT TO US FJJSJFV this is gonna be a nightmare to write tho cause wow those novels are jampacked

+ Patron - if this ever becomes a thing, I will consider it the greatest thing i'll ever write gjcjdbc I REALLY WANT THIS TO BE A THINGY AAAA so the plot is barebones atm but it's basically about journalism and activism here in the Philippines (and how both can get you killed fjjsjf i'm not kidding these two can legit get you killed wah redtagging sucks shit and the anti terror law can suck even more shit) and how the youth are expected to be purveyors of the country's advancement and improvement despite the fact that our voices are oftentimes dismissed and even permanently silenced when what we say goes against what those in power want us to say,,,those this is basically Misfit's spiritual successor fjxjdjf both of those musicals share similar themes fjxns so yea expect me ranting about a lot of political stuff here and a lot of talking about the ideologies of past and present politics and revolutions and how those affect the masses and how the masses can shape them in return. There will also be talk on how journalism's role in shaping society and how proper dissemination of information and lack thereof can affect people's mindsets aND HOW JOURNALISM IS OFTENTIMES MANIPULATED TO MANIPULATE PEOPLE'S MINDSETS (STUDENT JOURNALIST AND ASPIRING PROFESSIONAL JOURNALIST'S RANTS GO BRRRRR YEA I HAVE A LOT TO RANT ABOUT).

Oh and also this musical is heavily inspired by both the noli and el fili novels and by spring awakening (Everything I Write Will Be Inspired By Spring Awakening dbjxd) in a sense that Act 1's active protagonist (who then becomes Act 2's passive protag) is named Elias and is based on both Elias from Rizal's novels and on Melchior Gabor (which is funny cause rizal's elias is NOTHING LIKE MELCHIOR GABOR SO UM LOOK IT'S GONNA BE HARD TO EXPLAIN JUST UM YEA IT'S MESSY) while the passive protagonist (who becomes the active protag by the end of act 1 and throughout the entire 2nd act) is named Cris Ibarra and is based on Moritz Stiefel and Rizal's Ibarra (more specifically um Rizal's Ibarra's growth into a very different character throughout the events of the two novels).

ALSOOO there is this one concept that made me really REAALLY want to make Patron an actual thingy and that is the existence of um Shadows in the show. Inspired by the voices in Deaf West Speing Awakening, these Shadows can always be found lurking on stage alongside their respective characters like um if Elias is in a scene, his shadow can also be found on stage somewhere. I kinda want them to like represent the characters' innermost thoughts and the other parts of themselves the characters' would like to hide through how the Shadows act on stage and um yea choreography gjsjf Patron is porbably gonna be very dance heavy so um yea it's a bit hard to explain so i'll just point to Alex Boniello and Daniel Durant's Moritz fjxjjf i kinda want it to be like that. The Shadows would be part of the show's ensemble and um yea lots of dancing and prop moving woo also at times they would be singing for the character they are assigned to like um while Elias would be in the middle of doing something on stage, his Shadow would be the one singing in his stead and when his Shadow sings, that's when the character becomes the most vulnerable to the audience because the Shadows often expose their characters' thoughts and worries to the audience that the characters themselves wouldn't really express. So like um the Shadows address the audience a lot gjxjsjd except for one aka Ibarra's Shadow. Instead of addressing the audience, Ibarra's shadow addresses IBARRA directly, often questioning Ibarra's actions (especially their hesitance in Act 1). ig ibarra's shadow is rather representative of what Ibarra would turn into in Act 2 when they take over as the Active protag. But um Ibarra's shadow still questions Ibarra frequently esp in regards to their risky actions so um yea Ibarra's shadow is kinda like the Fates the hadestown wherein they serve to sow doubt but over here Ibarra's shadow is meant to symbolize how insecure they feel in regards to their decisions which well, as the protag, make and break the show. Also um yea the rest of the characters' shadows also start addressing their characters more while the characters themselves start addressing the audience more so woo switcheroo! Also the dynamic that the characters have with each other is similar to the dynamics between the kids in Spring Awakening wherein they are just kids (well in this cause young adults aged 18-20) trying to figure out life in general and all that so woo

(also I would like to note that I really want Ibarra's role to be open to all genders in order to like make a statement that anyone can grow into the character Ibarra becomes throughout Patron but rn hmm i'm still thinking about how that will play out especially given that I kinda wanted Patron's Ibarra to have two love interests here aka Elias and Clara (kiiiiinda based on Maria Clara aka Ibarra's actual love interest from Rizal's novels but um YEA THERE ARE A LOT OF DEVIATIONS GJXSF) but tbh i'm still figuring out a way to make Clara have a much larger role here in terms of pushing the plot cause rn the Elias and Ibarra dynamic have an advantage since um active-passive protagonist switcheroo so I'm kinda thinking of a way to make Clara a secret 3rd protag that is both an active and a passive one? I dunno fjsjd honestly i'm still trying to figure out what Maria Clara represents in the novels cause I know for certain that Rizal did not write her to be a mere demure love interest so um yea WORK IN PROGRESS AND UM ALL IN ALL IBARRA CAN BE PLAYED BY ANY AND ALL GENDERS AND IBARRA IS PANSEXUAL BECAUSE I FUCKING WANT THEM TO BE GJSJJF)

+ Grade 12 - OKI SO LIKE I'VE POSTED ABOUT THIS BEFORE BACK IN MARCH BUT UM I'VE CHANGED SOME STUFF GJXJJD so anyways Grade 12 is well um designed to be a campy-please-don't-take-this-seriously-this-is-just-for-laughs-and-gags musical about 12th graders (i changed the grade to raise the stakes) that makes fun of Filipino TV tropes esp when related to teenagers while also providing a lit more insight on ad to what teenagers go through on a daily basis in terms of trying to grow into the person they want themselves to be while also trying to change to adapt to a world that more often that not goes against them. So yea it's not as heavy as the other musicals, heck I designed this after Preston Max Allen's Carrie 2 musical (dude check it out it has jenny rose baker and it's gold) so woo funsies but i also like this to mean something. Oh and also this is basically me ranting about Everything Wrong In The Philippine Education System (how it more often than not is really detrimental to the students' personal wellbeings through constant overwork and disregard of physical, mental and emotional health issues, its accessibility issues esp the issues experiences by those of the poorer sectors, the um very outdated info at times, how the system perpetuates classism and a shit ton of very detrimental social hierarchy bullshits esp through the implementation of the star sections (speaking as someone who's been in the "lower" sections and has also been in the star sections, I HAVE A LOT TO RANT ABOUT THIS ONE OH BOY FUN FACT I WANTED TO MAKE AN ACADEMIC PAPER ON THIS BUT MY 10TH GRADE TEACHER WOULDN'T LET ME) etc etc) plot is mainly barebones atm but um yea here are some of the updates to the characters: Kyla (formerly named Kate), Noel and Ella haven't changed that much but um I've decided to give the Halos Lagi Nalang number to Kyla and Max (nonbinary student that serves as a foil to Kyla in which Max is constantly being denied opportunities that they want while Kyla constantly refuses opportunities that Max wants; also yea i'll be talking about stories that trans and nonbinary students have experienced in both of my high schools through Max cause i really wanna bring attention to how the trans and nonbinary community is really being shat on despite the um sliiight improvement in the way schools treat the (cisgender) members of the lgbtq+ community; also they are just as ambitious as Ella (i envision her to be like um Draft Eva + Riley jfhdf) um yea major plot pusher woo I'd compare them to Draft Eva + Reese but um I Sincerely And Solemnly Promise To Not Screw Them Over In Act 2 fjjxfj) instead because they will be the ones with queerness being a much bigger factor to their individual plotlines compared to Noel and Ella.

The other main characters are um Marco (typical jock dude who's actually one of the more philosophical and introspective characters in the show; i want to like um highlight the whole sports scholarships debacle, how stereotypes can affect how people are treated in real life and also touch on the machismo culture that's um really being enforced here esp with him being an athlete and all; also he's really good friends with Max and through that friendship he learns that him slightly questioning his sexuality is a good thing so yea), Ruben & Lexi (i don't have that much planned for them atm because woo barebones plot but i do imagine them to be initially framed as the more antagonistic characters and have that like stereotype be taken apart as the show goes on esp considering that both are in the "lower sections" and are um more prone to stereotyping) aND A NARRATOR CHARACTER HMMM WHERE HAVE WE SEEN THIS BEFORE GJXJD oki but this Narrator (can be played by any gender as long as the actor IS VERY FUNNY LIKE COMEDIC TIMING IS A *MUST*) is based on the Narrator in PMA's Carrie 2 but I also want the narrator to be like um more crucial to the plot as the story progresses esp as they interact with both the audience and the characters a lot more so like um it's a bit hard to describe their exact role here because um BAREBONES PLOT FJXJD but altho they can't directly affect the story they are telling (cause so far my plan for them is like um they were a former classmate of 7/8 of the characters here but unfortunately they died due to a car accident), they can and do indeed influence the characters in it and all of the characters (except Kyla) know who they are (especially Ruben) so um yea. Also the solo I have planned for them is called Live On (which is um yea a spin off of Move On fjxjd) and through them, I plan to explore the tragedy of unexpected deaths and what happens to those left behind (this will be based on observations and accounts from many of my former schoolmates) and how many have yet to move on and how they choose to live on despite of that because they know that's what their former classmate, schoolmate, and loved on would've wanted.

SO OBVIOUSLY I OWE GRADE 12 TO SIR PRESTON MAX ALLEN GJXJFJD THANK YOU PMA FOR ONCE AGAIN INFLUENCING MY WORK WOO

+ Concepts - oki so this is the only musical so far that i wanna write solely in English nfjsj so this is inspired by Fun Home in which there are like versions of characters in different ages right? Over here there are 2 versions of 6 characters: the 17-18 year old ones, and the 27-28 year old ones. Through them, this musical will explore two main things: (1) the sad and depressing reality of having to give up one's artistic dreams and passions for the sake of practicality and (2) choosing to take a leap of faith and try to grasp on to whatever chances one may have left to live a life that means more than just making ends meet. Act 1 has the teenagers focus on Point 2 while the adults focus on Point 1; Act 2 has the teenagers focus on Point 1 while the adults end up focusing on Act 2. Once again, um barebones plot with even more barebones characters (heck i dont even have NAMES for them gnxnd) but i think it'll be pretty cool to elaborate upon the shitty circumstances here in the ph when it comes to artistic pursuits and how most of the kids I know are terrified of growing up because they don't want to give up dreaming even though that they know that they have to wake up. I also think it'll be cool to point out thay even though that yea situations like these suck, it'll never ever be too late to pick up the pieces and try again cause at the end of the day, life only ends when you say it will end: there will always be chances, you just need to be gutsy enough to grasp them. Also um yea I originally planned to post like a shit ton of poems this month that would basically be the lyrics of the songs that would go into this musical bUT I'M LAZY SO I'M THROWING AWAY THE POSTING SCHEDULE FJXJSJD anyways here r 2 of the poems/songs that i wanna make for this:

+ In 10 Years - a duet between one of the teenagers and their adult counterpart which is um basically the teen singing their optimistic yet really in-depth and mature perspective on chasing Point 2 while the adult sings about Point 1, wishing that they could tell their teen self about how disappointed they will be; i imagine this to be um kinda like the first version of Dear Theodosia but um more intense maybe fjdjf

+ Run - a duet between two teens who are best friends where one girl tries to convince the other to run and play with her in the nearby playground AND YES THIS DUET IS VERY FUCKING GAY JDJSJDF this was um originally part of Grade 12 tbh and it was supposed to be sung by Lexi and it was supposed to be about a 9th grade event that i personally was a part of where um 9th grade student researchers at a research seminar at a different freaking university took over the elementary students' playground when the seminar finished (I SHALL TREASURE THAT MEMORY FOREVER) and um yea it was basically about holding on to your childhood while you still can...aND THEN I UNINTENTIONALLY MADE IT GAY JFJSJSF Lexi is still getting that song about the research seminar event tho but um it won't be Run cause Run basically turned into a song that's not only about holding on to what's left of your childhood but also to the people you treasure that you know you have to leave behind sooner or later and um yea the girl that the one girl tries to convince to go to the playground agrees to that and then boom go duet stylized after 21 and Alone Now + I Don't Care by freaking preston max allen once again woo (i promise that this won't be plagiarism gndnd) (also altho the two girls have to go their separate ways by their graduation, they eventually meet again at the end of act 2 so woo hopeful ending for the sapphics

OKI THAT'S ALL FOR TODAY FHXHSHD THIS IS WAY TOO FUCKING LONG OF A RAMBLE GOOD GOD AAAAA SO UM IF ANYONE ELSE MADE IT TO THE END, I ONCE AGAIN WILL SEND YOU A SHIT TON OF CARBONARA-

[ghostiewriter]

prologue | tale of a slightly unstable teen hero

Summary: JJ’s life is thrown upside down after a school trip. Now he just decide what to do about his newly found powers and discover just how much his life has changed.

Warnings: contains strong language, a teeny sliver of sexual references, just the three boys being dumbasses? a small smidge of angst (it barely counts) and some fighting, kinda amateur but he’ll learn eventually

Word Count: 8.2K (I’m so sorry)

A/N: ahhh so here’s the prologue! Hope you guys enjoy, it’s a bit of a mess and it wasn’t meant to be this long but oh well! This is just to kinda set up the world, I promise the chapters won’t be this messy! There will be way more Kiara in the next chapter as well, don’t worry! Like I said, this is just a filler chapter! Also this is unedited and I am kinda unwell so lets hope this makes sense :) feel free to leave any feedback!! 

masterlist // taglist // ao3

JJ prided himself in always loving an adventure. A random trip at 3am when one of his buds felt down? Hell yeah! An exploration through the streets of New York when he decided to ditch his Spanish final? Let’s go, dude! A spontaneous road trip with his boys during summer? JJ was down! But this? This just felt like some sick joke.

Admittedly, JJ wasn’t listening in class when the trip was announced. And as Pope liked to remind him every couple of minutes, this whole situation could have been avoided if he had listened in class. But can you blame the guy? A whole day off school to visit some big corporation uptown where he was getting a free lunch—JJ would be stupid to reject that. Yet, JJ should’ve known there would’ve been some catch, some flaw in this trip. And that flaw was that he had to spend the day walking around Cameron Industries, the biggest nerd fest on the East coast.

JJ was bored out of his mind.

Pope was ecstatic beyond belief.

John B was ready to punch JJ in the face if opened his mouth to complain one more time.

“Why call it a trip when all we do is listen to these dudes in lab coats droning on about some weird gene thing? Like c’mon! A trip is meant for relaxing. Where the fuck am I gonna relax around here, huh? The fucking gift shop—“

“Shut up,” John B hissed at the blonde, smacking JJ’s arm for good measure, to which the blond dramatically whined at. “Just please…shut up. You’ve got one more hour until lunch, alright? Don’t ruin this for him.”

JJ huffed as he glanced over at Pope, who was eagerly questioning every scientist they came across. As much as it pained him to agree with John B, he did have a point. There weren’t enough fingers in the world to count the amount of times JJ had dragged Pope into some anxiety-provoking, impulsive situation. The least he could do is suck it up a little and mope silently as they walk through countless fancy labs that probably each cost more than his apartment complex altogether.

“I don’t know why you’re acting so chuff,” JJ huffed, his fingers twisting the rings that adorned his hands—a force of habit when he was uncomfortable and bored. “You usually back me up on this kinda stuff—“ But JJ didn’t need to finish his question. Oh no, because the answer was right there.

JJ smirked as he turned to John B, one eyebrow raised in question. However, his friend seemed much more content staring at Sarah Cameron from where she stood near the front of the group, smiling towards the tour guide like they were close friends. Which they probably were considering they were standing in the building her father owned.

Ward Cameron. Renowned scientist, billionaire and founder of Cameron Industries. A true inspiration. What started as a hopeless experiment in his high school chemistry lab ended up forging Ward Cameron’s path to success in the biggest multibillion-dollar multinational corporation that held the future for chemical engineering. JJ just thought he was some lucky rich kid that had daddy’s money to support his dream.

And it was for that reason that JJ rolled his eyes, nudging his friend out of his daze. “You do know you don’t stand a chance, right?” JJ commented.

Harsh but true. JJ and the rest of the kids that attended this trip went to Midtown High School. True to its name, it was smack bang in the middle of two very different livelihoods. Uptown Queens: home to the kids who live of old money, designer clothes and trust funds. And Downtown Queens: home to working-middle class who would spend the rest of their lives making a sliver of the uptown folks’ wages.

Take a wild guess which area JJ is from.

However, some old dude in the 60s decided to try and bridge the gap between the classes and thus, the school was born. All it did was let each know how much they resented the other. Yet, John B had fallen into the alluded mind-set of that old geezer and set his eyes on Sarah Cameron, the most uptown chick you’ll get. And of course, JJ was there to remind him of that very fact and push him off that imaginary bridge. It was a fool’s hope to combine the uptown and downtown folk; it was a fool’s hope to try and make them get along. It won’t happen now nor ever.

John B flipped him off. JJ only grinned in response.

Nonetheless, that ended up being the most exciting part of the hour. JJ shuffled along at the back of the group, his eyes constantly wandering around the labs. Did he have any clue what any of it was? Hell no, but he was naturally curious and couldn’t help his hands from wandering. Sue him, he was a teenage boy with ADHD and a knack for getting into trouble—he was bound to do something stupid.

His interest in science perked up a bit when he noticed a small enclosure of what looked like completely normal spiders, yet as their tour guide spoke, they were anything but normal.

“Our team have been working on taking the genetic code of three separate species of arachnids and combining them to form a super-spider. One which can survive and reproduce and live as any other would. It is the first step in the future of genetic engineering and modification. With this technology, we could find cures to diseases that were deemed impossible to cure. We could form a stronger, better human race—“

“Isn’t that unethical?” A voice interrupted. Everyone’s head snapped towards the curly-haired girl that stood by Sarah Cameron’s side. JJ knew very little about her—considering this was honestly the first time he had seen her—and he wasn’t complaining…nor was he actually listening to what she was saying. “I mean, won’t this just introduce a future of designer babies and a superiority of the genetically modified over the natural?”

“I understand your concerns,” The tour guide—a young redhead who honestly didn’t look a day over twenty-two but then again, JJ guessed everyone around here was some sort of genius. “But I can assure you there are a number of protocols behind this research that would prevent such a thing from happening.”

“Can you really stop the rich from getting what they want?” Ironic considering she was a rich, uptown chick.

An awkward silence washed over the group before the teacher quickly cleared their throat and directed the tour guide to continue.

JJ—being the foolishly bored teenager he was—made his way over to the unknown girl, standing next to her as they looked at the spiders in the enclosure.

“Poor things.” She sighed sadly. JJ only raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it.

“You know,” He began, his voice smooth and suave—the usual JJ charm he used on girls. “I totally agree with you on all those…ethic…things…” He trailed off, risking a glance towards the girl who only narrowed her eyes at him.

“Really?” She questioned, nodding her head for him to continue.

“Yeah, I mean, save the animals, am I right?” He grinned, nervously scratching the nape of his neck. The girl seemed unamused.

“Uh huh, sure thing, buddy.” She stated before turning to catch up with the group. But JJ’s voice stopped her once again.

“How about I take you out some time? And then you can tell me all about all this ethic stuff.” He proposed, his usual charming smirk on his lips. He was a lady’s man, he knew he was gorgeous and JJ would be a fool if he didn’t use it to his advantage. One small date to charm her before JJ wiggled his way into her bed, then boom—they never have to speak to each other again. Plus, this girl may be one of Sarah Cameron’s wee minions, but JJ didn’t let class get in the way of his ‘love’ life. He just resents the lot of those uptown kids in every other aspect of his life. No harm in fraternizing with the enemy, right? What other people didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. It’s just a little bit of fun.

“Do you even know my name?” She asked him, her arms crossed over her chest. It took a lot of self-control for JJ not to follow the movement. He cleared his throat, leaning one hand against the enclosure.

“Uh…Samantha?”

“Nice try, asshole.” And with that, she turned around to join the group.

JJ stood there, a little dumbfounded by the encounter. He was taken aback not only by the fact she had just rejected him, but with the sass in which she did so. He would be lying if he didn’t say it was a little hot, but he expected it. Uptown kids always thought there were better, superior to the downtown kids.

But JJ didn’t wallow in his rejection for long when he felt a sharp, stinging pain on his hand. He glanced down, seeing a spider on the back of his hand and his instant reaction was to shake it off. “Little shit!” He hissed, looking down at the small bite mark on his skin.

“Hey, dude, you comin’?” He heard John B call out. He glanced around, unable to spot the spider. He shrugged, JJ has had worse than a small spider bite. He’ll survive.

“Yeah, I’m starving, let’s go!”

Little did JJ know that was his last day as a normal, hyperactive teen.

**********

“I’m telling you something is fucking wrong with me!”

Both boys looked at their blond friend with sceptic looks. It was Saturday morning and far too early to deal with JJ nonsense. Especially when they could barely understand what he was going on about. It was around 6am when John B and Pope received a very distressed call from JJ. Neither one was very sure for what reason, all they heard was ‘freaky’ and ‘fuck’ multiple times during the call. But he sounded like he was really going through something so they eventually went over—arriving at JJ’s place at 7:30am. JJ was too on edge to even try and call them out on it.

“Dude, breathe,” Pope muttered, watching JJ run holes in his carpet from how much he was pacing. “Calm down a little—“

“I can’t calm down, Pope!” JJ snapped, looking at his friends who seemed far too calm. “Like I don’t know if I am freaked out or pumped but just—“ He paused, seeing the look of confusion on his friends’ faces. He huffed and pulled his shirt off, looking at them expectedly. They didn’t react.

“JJ, did you really call us down here on SATURDAY MORNING because you have another birthmark that looks like George Clooney because I will literally murder you—“

“No, no!” JJ hissed before pointing down to his abs, and then his arms. Then he began flexing, yet he was met with blank expressions again.

“Dude, as much as I love staring at your abs, what the fuck are we meant to be looking at?” Pope asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“They are different!”

“They are?”

“They are!”

“Uh…how?”

JJ scoffed, as if it were obvious. “They are more defined!”

“…more defined?”

“Clearly!”

John B let out an unattractive snort, pushing his hair back as he leaned back against the wall, all his worry for his friend now gone. He was honestly concerned it was something important. “What’s next? Is your hair too perfect, J? Need a bag to cover how gorgeous you are?” Pope snickered along with him.

“I mean, I am having a good hair day…” JJ trailed off before shaking his head and turning to the two of them again. “But that isn’t all, okay? It gets freakier!”

Both boys looked at JJ with amusement from their spots on his bed.

JJ rolled his eyes before he stretched his hand out, his palm facing the ceiling with his two middle fingers pressed into his palm. Not even seconds later, a THWAP echoed through the now-silent bedroom.

Both teenagers looked down at the string of substance that just existed their friend’s wrist, completely shell-shocked. It was John B who spoke first, looking away from the white substance on JJ’s bed.

“Is that like…the same as…did you just—“ John B points down to his groin area, only for JJ to grimace.

“Dude, no! EW! I didn’t just jizz from my wrist!”

“It looks like you just did.”

Pope quickly kneeled down next to the bed, hesitantly reaching to touch the stuff, ignoring John B’s comments on how disgusting it was. “It feels like…silk,” He murmured in confusion before pulling his hand away, noticing how it stuck to his skin. “And it’s sticky.”

John B gagged in the back, but JJ ignored him. “It’s like glue, a really strong glue! And then after like twenty minutes, it disappears!” He told Pope as he reached for the scissors to help his sticky situation.

“How did you do that though?” Pope’s mind was reeling with the possibilities, the science behind the completely inhumane thing JJ had just done and he had witnessed with his very own eyes.

“I don’t fucking know!”

“Does it have anything to do with that weird-ass bump on your hand?” John B perked up, nodding towards JJ. All three boys’ gazes shifted to his left hand, where in fact there was a small red bump, no bigger than a grape at most.

“Nah, dude, that’s just from the spider bite yesterday.” JJ answered with a shrug. Pope chocked on the air, looking at JJ like he had three heads.

“I—you mean the fucking GENETICALLY MODIFIED SPIDERS FROM THE LAB?!” JJ winced, trying to shush Pope but there was no avail, this boy was going off on a rant. “Are you stupid? Why didn’t you tell anyone yesterday? JJ, those could’ve been poisonous or had long term effects or—“

“Made you some weird mutant with cool powers.” John B added. He quickly shut up when he received the ‘look’ from Pope.

“We have to tell someone at Cameron Industries.” Pope concluded. JJ was quick to pipe up, taking a few steps away from Pope on instinct.

“What, no way! They are gonna stick me under some fancy microscope or inject me with needles full of…stuff! I’m not going back into that geek galore!” JJ stated. Pope looked like he was ready to open his mouth, and start spouting out arguments as to why JJ should head over to the professional scientists over his weird, overnight mutation. But it was actually John B who came to a more mutual conclusion.

“Or we just do our own tests,” John B shrugged, both boys turning to look at him with fairly discombobulated expressions. “C’mon, Pope is basically a scientist and he is smart enough to figure out whatever the hell is going on with you!”

“I don’t have half the equipment they would have—“ Pope tried to argue.

“Look, we aren’t going to find out anything through a microscope. The best way is just go out there and test what he can do. How hard can it be?” John B grinned.

Pope wanted to argue that it was very hard. Though he had read countless papers on the genetically modified spiders, even he didn’t know enough to do a full conclusive examination on JJ and his new state. He didn’t have half the things he needed, but when he looked over at JJ and saw a much more relaxed—and hopeful—expression on his face from when he had suggested returning to the lab, Pope sighed and shook his head a little.

“Just so you both know, I am going to say, ‘I told you so’ when this goes downhill.”

**********

That is how JJ, Pope and John B found themselves standing on the roof of JJ’s apartment complex, the busy streets of New York oblivious to the scientific discovery that is happening above them. JJ couldn’t tear his eyes off the skyline, finding something about it much more relaxing that the potential of just what his new body could do. He was scared—no, scratch that—he was nervous, anxious if you will. JJ couldn’t lie that a part of him was excited. It felt surreal, like something out of one of those comics he used to nick from the uptown kids. Then again, JJ wasn’t very fond of the idea of being some new scientific discovery. It made him feel like he would end up like one of those poor frogs they had to dissect in biology—poor fuckers.

“Okay, so the spiders were made from three separate species to optimize their physical properties—being able to adapt to new environments, heightened senses to avoid predators, enhanced strength and speed, stronger material to create webs for larger prey—all that jazz. No research has been done on the psychological properties though.” Pope rambled, his hands moving wildly whilst both boys stared at him with clueless expressions.

“Which means?”

“JJ could have some really cool powers but could also be going totally insane,” Pope said with a sheepish shrug. “Like I’m talking full Tasmanian devil mode here—“

“Very reassuring, dude.” JJ stated bluntly. He took it all back, he wasn’t excited. He was terrified now. He glanced down at the small bite on his hand, which was slowly deflating as time passed. JJ wasn’t sure if he was relieved or worried that the second the bite disappeared, it could mean something really bad—like him turning into some massive humanoid arachnid that attacks the city. He shivered at the thought. “Right, let’s just get on with this.”

John B clapped a hand on his back, a small smile on his lips. “You’ll be fine, dude, alright? You’re in good hands.” He tried to reassure JJ. And JJ knew that everything Pope was saying was just to help him understand what was going on too, but he couldn’t help but think there was a small part of Pope that enjoyed using JJ as a lab rat. He was a scientist, could you really blame him?

“Yeah, I know.” He said with a curt nod.

“Let’s try the web again, see how far you can shoot it.” Pope piped up, moving to stand on the other side of JJ. “The average spider can shoot a web to about four feet, but these spiders have the DNA of the Darwin Bark Spiders which can shoot webs up to eighty-two feet. I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you could reach the same, maybe more.” He then gestured for JJ to try it out, pointing towards the building opposite then, which was only around eight feet away, at most.

JJ took a deep breath before extending his hand out, the THWAP sounding clear despite the ongoing traffic down below. Yet, the web barely shot out a couple of inches before landing on the edge of the roof with a disappointing splat.

“Well then…” John B trailed off, all three boys staring at the failed web shot.

“You clearly weren’t trying, just concentrate!” Pope said with a clap of his hands. He only received a blank stare from JJ.

“I was trying, dumbass! It’s harder than it looks. It…feels weird, man. Like a sneeze…from my wrist!” He huffed, but Pope only nudged his shoulder to try again.

JJ sighed and turned to face the opposite building again. He raised his arm, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he tried to imagine the web shooting out and reaching the opposing roof. He tried to imagine more web fluid being shot out his wrist, he tried to imagine like he actually knew what he was doing. Not even a second later, the THWAP sound was heard and suddenly there was a white rope of silk extending from JJ’s hand onto the next roof over.

“Holy shit!”

JJ grabbed the web, giving the web a light tug. He was expecting for the web to break, for his hand to be covered in web fluid. But instead the web remained, strong and sturdy as though it was bolted onto the roof.

“This is crazy, dude.”

He snapped his hand back, watching the web breakaway from his palm and flop, hanging from the brick wall like a pathetic piece of string. “That was cool as fuck,” He murmured as he glanced down at his wrists in shock. He gently ran his thumb over his wrist, a delightful shiver running down his back. It caused him to smile a little, thinking about just how far he could shoot these webs.

“Dude, you could swing around like Tarzan now.” John B snickered. JJ gave him a deadpan look but he couldn’t help himself from glancing down at his wrists again.

“You think?”

“Only one way to find out.” John B grinned.

Pope’s eyes widened slightly as he quickly began to shake his head. “You don’t know if the web is strong enough to hold his weight, he could hurt himself or—“

“You calling me fat?” JJ gasped with a pout, a hand placed over his heart. “You offend me, Pope. Thought you were better than this.”

“If calling you fat will stop you from swinging off a building like an idiot then yes, I am calling you fat.” He hissed.

JJ grinned, his eyes quickly searching around before he noticed a large satellite pole sticking out from one of the nearby buildings. It was a bit further away, but JJ let the pride of his last success get to his head. “I can do it, bud, don’t worry about it.”

“That’s my boy!”

“Don’t encourage him!”

“He can do it!”

“How the fuck do you know that!?”

“Sixth sense, my dude.”

JJ blocked out the bickering, taking a couple of steps back from the edge of the roof. A running start never hurt anyone, right? He rolled his shoulders, stretching his neck from left to right. Never once did he let his gaze shift away from the satellite pole. He crouched down a little, already feeling the adrenaline build up in him. “Diver down, boys.” He grinned before he began sprinting to the edge of the building. As he reached the edge, he pushed himself off and extended his arm out, imagining the web wrapping around the pole and seconds later it did. He held the web tightly in his grip as he felt himself swinging towards the building. Whoops and cheers could be heard, though JJ wasn’t sure if they were coming from him or the boys back on the roof.

“JJ, THE WALL! LOOK OUT!”

But JJ was a little too pumped up to even comprehend what Pope was screaming until he noticed the brick wall getting closer. ‘Shit, shit, shit.’ The words echoed in his head and he tried to think of a way to slow himself down. But it was useless as he found himself colliding with the wall, his eyes clenched shut on impact.

“Oh, fuck.” He groaned, his limbs sprawled out like a starfish. A part of him thought he was dead, that maybe he hit the wall way too hard, he had a lot of momentum after all. But the muffled screams coming from his friends was enough to tell him that he was very much alive. “I’m alive!” He yelled out, slowly beginning to blink his eyes open, finding himself face to face with a brick wall. “What the…” He trailed off when he glanced at his hands, finding them attached to the brick wall.

His heart was pounding when he looked down, seeing that he was attached to the wall, very far up from the ground, with nothing suspending him. His mind was reeling, almost as though he was waiting for himself to fall and his body to meet the ground. But it never happened.

“You’re like an actual fucking spider, dude!” He heard John B yell, as though he was right beside him, which caused him to wince a little. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing them still very far away on that roof.

JJ shook his head and glanced up, seeing the edge of the roof a couple of feet from where he was stuck on the wall. He took a deep breath before slowly removing one hand, and when he was sure he wasn’t going to fall, he moved it up higher. Slowly, JJ found himself scaling the side of the building, his heart beating wildly even as he pulled himself over the edge, both feet finding the solid ground of the roof. He turned back to look at his friends, both of whom looked shocked beyond belief.

“What the hell…” He could hear Pope whisper, which only caused JJ’s eyebrows to furrow in confusion.

“This is a lot more complicated than I thought.” He muttered to himself, only now realising that the bite mark on his hand was long gone.

**********

JJ winced a little as he heard the bell ring, indicating the end of this period and the start of lunch—his favourite subject. Yet, JJ wasn’t exactly jumping out of his seat as usual. It was now Monday and everyone was back at school. JJ, Pope and John B had spent the better use of the whole weekend to run around, using JJ like some lab rat and seeing just what he could and couldn’t do. And JJ was fucking exhausted. The amount of times he had face-planted into a wall was beyond funny and he had learnt the hard way that the more on edge he was, the more sensitive he was…well, to everything. The sound of the chairs screeching against the floor made him cringe, the bright LED lights made him want to cry and the feeling of his sweater against his skin was scratchy and uncomfortable. JJ sure as hell wasn’t hyped for his newly found powers if this is what the rest of his life is going to be like.

The blond sighed to himself as he shoved his stuff into his backpack, swinging it over his shoulder and heading towards the cafeteria once he left the class. He kept his head down, finding the small shuffles of his vans against the floor were helping him from cussing out every single student that bumped into him, making him honestly want to scream and stay six feet away from everyone. He tried to reassure himself that he was half way through the day, that he only had a couple of hours left and then he could preferably go hide in a hole somewhere for the rest of his life. Okay, that is a little dramatic but a dark hole sounded great to JJ right now.

But here’s the thing, JJ is a Maybank. He has the good ol’ Maybank luck, which means even when he feels shit, the universe is out to make his life worse. And the universe sent that in the form of Rafe Cameron and his loyal little minions, Topper Thornton and Kelce Smith. Midtown High’s own version of the Plastics, some may say.

By some, I mean JJ. But hey, don’t judge. He was forced into watch Mean Girls by one of his flings awhile back and he won’t lie, the movie slaps. But that is besides the point.

“Oi, Maybank!”

JJ inwardly groaned at the sound of Rafe’s voice. He would much rather hear nails on a chalkboard than whatever Rafe had to say. JJ wouldn’t consider them bullies, they were simply the top tier of the uptown kids who had some sort of superiority complex. And JJ had no issue on challenging them, it was far too easy to wind up a bunch of rich kids who weren’t used to being called out on their bullshit. And it just stuck. They would say something stupid to try and provoke him, and most of the time JJ’s words were enough for them to leave him alone. He had the satisfaction of punching Rafe in the face a few times, but usually Pope and John B were quick to hold him back. After all, it would backfire on JJ if he got into trouble with an uptown kid.

“What do you want?” JJ huffed out, glancing up at the trio. The sight of the three of them almost brought a smile to his lips. Uptown kids and their need to follow trends, they wore the same outfit in different variations and it honestly made JJ want to laugh. The classic preppy look with their pastel sweaters and tennis shoes, it made JJ want to gag. But he contained his vomit as Rafe spoke up.

“Aw, c’mon, Maybank. That all you got today? A bit pathetic.” Rafe snickered, the other two laughing along with their leader. JJ rolled his eyes. The funniest thing about them was their outfits.

“As much as I’d love to talk to you little pastel powerpuff girls, I have much better things to do in my life,” JJ said with a sarcastic smile on his lips as he side-stepped the trio, attempting to make his way past them. He really didn’t have the patience to deal with them today. He had happily planned to steal food from Pope and take a nap for the hour. But the second he felt Rafe’s hand on his shoulder, he knew that wasn’t going to be happening.

“Watch your mouth, Maybank.” Rafe spat, his hand tightening on JJ’s shoulder. The act made him want to cringe away and rip off his skin. The feeling of his hand on his shoulder, his thumb brushing that little bit of skin near the neckline of his sweater, it made JJ want to gag. It felt horrible. He wanted that feeling gone.

“Piss off, Cameron.” He scoffed, harshly jerking his shoulder so Rafe’s hand would lose its grip but it only tightened. In an act of desperation, JJ did the only thing that seemed reasonable. He shoved Rafe away. Now normally, it would be enough to have Rafe stumble a few steps so JJ can make a quick exit. But JJ just so happened to have forgotten that this wasn’t like every other normal time. He wasn’t normal anymore. So, his shove was much more than a wee push, it was more like completely winding Rafe. JJ couldn’t help but cringe when he heard the sound of Rafe’s body colliding with the lockers before he slumped to the ground, a dent now evident in the lockers from the collision. Topper and Kelce looked at JJ with mixed looks of confusion and fear before rushing to their friend’s aid.

“Oh my god, Rafe!”

JJ’s head snapped to the end of the hallway where he could see Sarah Cameron, but she wasn’t alone. Beside her was the curly haired girl from the trip. His eyes widened a little when his gaze met hers, but he was only met with a glare from the mysterious beauty.

“What’s your problem?” She hissed at JJ as the two girls got closer, now seeing the full effect of what JJ had done. JJ gulped a little, his fingers tapping the side of his legs as he tried to think this through. What could he say, ‘oh sorry, kinda lost control of my new powers, I’ll be a little more careful next time’. Yeah, that wasn’t going to work.

“He started it!” JJ blurted out, only to mentally smack himself at how childish he sounded. “I barely touched him, he was being dramatic!” He added but the looks of uncertainty didn’t reassure him that they bought it. He was in the lion’s den here, a downtown kid surrounded by the privileged. He was never going to win. So, he did the only sane thing any downtown kid would do. He got out of there as quick as he could.

“He could be concussed!” Sarah Cameron spoke up for the first time, a frown on her face as she met JJ’s gaze. He could almost feel the judgement oozing from her.

“Maybe he will finally have some brain cells knocked into him!” And with that, JJ ran out of that hallway and didn’t stop running until he was far away from the school.

**********

“I’m sorry what?”

Following the fiasco on Monday, JJ’s week hadn’t been much better. Most of it was spent avoiding the uptown crew whilst simultaneously keeping a low profile, which is very hard for someone like JJ. He was used to being the class clown, milking any attention he got. Now he felt like he was under house arrest or something, trapped to keep to himself and work out what the hell was happening to him. But true to their commitment of being his best friends, John B and Pope were right there beside him. It had been a long and stressful week but they made it through. It was a little exhausting on them but they had each other to lean on. JJ was just glad he wasn’t alone.

But now, sat in Pope’s bedroom on the Saturday night, looking between the two boys with a very concerned look, JJ wasn’t sure his weekend was going to be any more relaxing. He knew the three of them combined weren’t the best combinations. They probably shared a brain cell between them and even then, it mostly resided with Pope and his weird, random facts. They had come up with some really strange, out-there ideas before—like the time they tried to give John B a perm with household products or when they convinced themselves they could do a road trip in John B’s crappy van. But this was the icing on the cake. This was enough for JJ to confirm that his friends had completely lost their mind.

“Think about it!” John B continued, practically rolling on the balls of his feet in excitement. JJ raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt him. To be honest, JJ wasn’t even sure where to start with how bad of an idea this was. “You have these super cool powers that are totally useless to everyday life, so why not put them to use? You could be like—the next Batman or something!”

“Batman was a rich dude who made gadgets. He doesn’t even have any powers. How the hell would I be like Batman?”

“Okay, bad example,” Pope piped up. “But just think about it. You could make a difference, be a hero!”

“A really badass superhero!” John B added.

JJ looked at them with a frown on his face. This now just seemed like a deranged joke. He was waiting for them to laugh, to say it was just a silly joke and move on with their usual weekend plans. But they didn’t. They continued.

“I mean, we could be a team! The three of us! You’ll go out and do all the crime fighting, Pope can make crazy gadgets and do all the…tech stuff and I can be your guy in the chair, you know?”

“My guy in the chair?”

“Yeah, you know, the guy in the headset…surrounded by screens…telling you where to go when you need extra help and stuff.”

“What?”

“Like Pope would set it up, but I would be the mastermind behind it! Like you’re stuck in a building and can’t find a way out, I would help you find a route. Your guy in the chair!”

JJ only shook his head, pressing his fingers to his temples to try and not completely lose his temper.

“And like every superhero ever, you’ll need a suit. So, I went looking through some stuff and I found my mum’s sewing machine,” Pope fumbled around in his pocket before he pulled out a small bunch of red fabric. He threw it to JJ, which he easily caught. JJ then realised it was like a ski mask, with two small holes for his eyes. “It’s not much but we can work on it, keep your identity secret and everything.”

“Oh, and you’ll need a badass name! I was thinking like Night Monkey, or—“

“—Spiderling!” Pope interrupted with a grin, clearly proud of it. But JJ had enough.

“Can the both of you just shut up!” He snapped, both boys instantly quieting down, looking at JJ with concerned looks. “Okay, are you out of your mind? Me? A superhero? Hate to fucking break it to you but I am not the superhero type guy, alright? I’m not your friendly neighbourhood nice guy helping old ladies cross the street or getting cats out of the tree! I could give zero fucks about the law cause all its there for is rich idiots to manipulate and use to ruin lives of people like us!” JJ cried out to them, letting go of any hope he had on trying to keep his cool.

“People like us don’t become heroes, alright? We are usually the ones that get locked up. And knowing my luck, I will be thrown straight into some loony house, in a straitjacket because of these powers! You guys have to be absolute fools if you think any of this would work.” JJ huffed as he stood up, shoving the mask into his pocket before making his way to the door. “I don’t care about other people, alright? I care about you guys, my mum and most importantly, myself. Why the hell should I risk my life for a world that won’t appreciate it anyways.” Both boys stood there stunned, looking at JJ with wide eyes and parted lips.

“JJ—“

“No, okay? Superheroes are meant for comic books and movies, not real life, alright? Grow up.” And with that, JJ slammed the door as he left the apartment.

JJ scoffed, muttering to himself as he walked through the dark streets of New York, deciding to take the longer route back home. He needed the time to clear his head, grasp his thoughts. He didn’t know what the boys were thinking, he was definitely not fit to be a hero. Were they out of their minds? Give a guy some abnormal powers and suddenly he should be putting on a cape and preaching morals. That wasn’t JJ, that would never be JJ. He was selfish, arrogant at times and beyond prideful. But he was aware. He knew what he was and he knew he didn’t have what it took to be a hero. Pope and John B needed to stop being ignorant and see that.

He rolled his eyes at the thought and continued his way back to his building complex, hands shoved in his pockets with his right-hand clenching around the fabric of the mask. Small puffs escaped his lips as JJ started regretting taking the long way home. It was October and winter was promising to come early, JJ could tell that much by the stinging cold against his cheeks. The cold was just the cherry on top of his bitter mood.

Yet, as JJ continued to make his way home, he could hear the sound of people talking, causing a frown to form on his face. JJ had walked this way many times, especially during the night, and the chance of passing someone down these streets were fairly rare. Maybe the odd one here or there, but a group of people? Definitely not common.

At first, he ignored it. He had gotten used to the heightened senses over the week, being able to hear things from a distance even when he didn’t try. For all he knew, he could be hearing the muttering of some people a few blocks over. So, he ignored it and carried on walking. But then it started getting louder and clearer. JJ felt his whole body go on alert, the hair on his arm standing up, like his body knew something was off. He could feel it in his gut, a horrible realisation that this wasn’t going to be his usual walk home.

It wasn’t until when JJ turned the corner that he realised just what he had walked into. There stood around five men, all wearing masks that covered the lower half of their faces. They were dressed in all black, probably to draw less attention to themselves, but JJ could see the glint of guns in the light of the lampposts shining down on the street. They stood outside a building, three of them seeming to try and block the view of the other two. It was then when JJ’s brain actually caught up with what he was seeing and realised what the building was. A bank. These guys were trying to rob a bank.

Well shit.

The way JJ saw it, he had two options here. He could turn around, pretend he didn’t see anything and let them get on with what they were doing. Chances were they would either get caught by the police or he would see that the bank had been successfully robbed tomorrow morning on the news. Or JJ could do something about it. He quickly grabbed his phone from his pocket, only to see that it was dead. Of course, it was the good ol’ Maybank luck. He shoved it back into his pocket and looked towards the five men.

Then an idea popped into his head. A stupid, insane idea that was nothing short of self-deprecating and downright dumb. It was short of one of the worst ideas he had ever had. JJ had done a lot of weird stuff in his life but this definitely tops it all. And the worst part was that he was going through with it, because as much as he hated it, it was his only choice right now.

“I’m gonna regret this.” JJ huffed to himself as he snatched the mask out of his pocket and pulled it down over his face, adjusting it so he could see through the small holes Pope had made. He let out a breath, shaking his shoulders a little as he tried to pump himself up, get his adrenaline going.

“You got this, it’s not like they have guns or anything,” JJ muttered to himself as he placed his hands on the wall of the building across from the bank, the one he was currently hiding around so the bank robbers wouldn’t see him, before he began to scale the building. I mean, who would expect the enemy coming from above, right?

He stopped around half way up the building, thanks to the heightened senses he was able to still see the criminals clearly. He watched them closely, seeing only the three men that were on lookout where the one with guns. “Oh, let’s hope this works.” He whispered to himself before extending his arm out.

“What the fuck!” One of them called out as his gun was snatched from his hands in the blink of an eye, his two friends following a similar reaction. JJ wasn’t even thinking about where he was throwing the guns, just as long as they were nowhere near these dudes when he confronted them.

He watched them freak out, yelling at each other as they looked around for the culprit to their missing guns. He heard the half-ass threats they used and tried not to snort before he shot a web to one of the lampposts nearby and swung down, landing gracefully at the top of the lamppost.

“Guys, I hate to break it to you but someone lied, bank doesn’t open until tomorrow morning.” JJ called out to them, giving a small shrug. All five heads snapped up to look at him, and the glares he was receiving was enough to tell him that these guys weren’t big jokesters.

“Piss off, kid, this is none of your business.” One of them replied in a blunt, scruffy voice. It honestly made JJ cringe a little.

“You see,” JJ sighed. “I’ve made it my business so…” He trailed off before snapping his wrist, a web shooting out to stick to the head of the closest criminal and with a firm tug, his head hit the pole before he slumped to the ground.

One of the men growled at JJ, clearly not happy about some weird kid interrupting their wee heist. “You had your warning, kid. Come down and play with the adults.” He taunted before JJ noticed the glimmer of something in the light. A knife. Of-fucking-course the gun wasn’t the only weapon they had on them.

“That’s a bit unfair, isn’t it?” He commented, shooting a web to wrap around the criminal’s wrist, prepared to pull it out of his grasp, only for the robber to tug the web instead, sending JJ flying off the lamppost and falling on his ass to the ground. “Fuck!” He hissed as he quickly jumped to his feet.

“Life is unfair,” The criminal muttered before reaching to punch JJ but he easily dodged it. The speed and agility with which he moved with clearly distracting the criminal long enough for JJ to kick him hard enough that sent him stumbling back into the wall. JJ barely had time to process it before he snapped his hand to the left, stopping a fist that was inches away from his face.

“Nice try, asshole.” He huffed before twisting the criminal’s arm before sending a swift punch to his jaw. There was a satisfying pop sound that told JJ he would be preoccupied for at least a couple of minutes.

He then noticed two of the criminals trying to corner him, and he couldn’t help but smirk a little under the mask at just how cliché it seemed. In seconds, JJ has webs shooting out each wrist, attaching to the chests of each men, before yanking the two towards each other. Groans echoed through the empty street as both men collided with each other.

JJ’s head snapped to the side when he heard an angry battle call as he saw the man with the now dislocated jaw running towards him. JJ crouched down a little before he began running towards the criminal, his arms hooking around his knees. He kept running forwards until JJ felt glass smash around him and the two of them fell through. He quickly got up, wincing at the window he had just broken before turning to the criminal and giving him a good smack in the face—he definitely wasn’t holding back with his strength on that one.

JJ began to work fast, not knowing how long each of the criminals would stay dazed and unconscious for. In no time, he had them piled together, a healthy amount of web fluid keeping them tied together. They wouldn’t be going anywhere—at least for twenty minutes. But it was just JJ’s luck that he didn’t have to worry about that time limit because not even seconds after he finished, he heard the sirens and saw the blue lights flashing down the streets.

Police cars began to surround the bank, creating a semi-circle to prevent any possible escape. Officers began to exit their vehicles, guns set and loaded and now aimed towards JJ. “This is NYPD, keep your hands where we can see them!” One officer called out.

“Shit,” JJ muttered to himself as he raised his hands in the air, watching as officers slowly approached the crime scene.

He watched as a look of confusion washed over their faces as they took in the scene: the smashed window, the five tied up men, the weird silky rope that was binding them together and of course, JJ in his crappy mask.

He watched as they evaluated the situation. Watched as they tried to piece it all together before one officer—the badge telling JJ her name was Captain Peterkin—stopped in front of JJ with raised eyebrows. “Did you do this?”

“Sure did, ma’am.”

“Why?” Another officer perked up, JJ could see his badge said Officer Shoupe.

“They were robbing a bank, what did you want me to do? Sit around making daisy chains until you showed up?” JJ immediately defended, glaring as best as he could with the mask on his face.

Peterkin smiled a little before she cleared her throat, JJ’s attention shifting to her. “Then I guess we owe you a great deal of thanks for your work.”

“All in a day’s work, can I leave now? I’m sure the security cameras will give you all the answers you need.” JJ stated as he already began to take a few steps away from the crime scene, walking backwards.

“Can we at least know your name?” Peterkin asked.

JJ looked down at his wrists before he snapped them up, watching as the web attached to nearby building. He looked at Peterkin and couldn’t help grin under his mask as he answered her question before tugging on the web and swinging away into the night.

“Call me Spider-Man.”

Taglist: @alphinias @popcornhook @loveyatopluto @teamnick @peanutbelley @iccyyyybitch @jiara-maybank @donkey-is-my-spirit-animal @carissarose16 @unspokenfaith @largedenominationsplease @jiaaras @homebody-nobody @smileymikey @hvitstark @shaymq7 @hmspogue @falseungodlyhours @aarchiess @rcsales @raeoffuckingsunshine @jjskiaras @parker-holland-osterfield @thesadprose

[amazingmsme]

Cabin Fever

AN: I had 2 different prompts for a Sam & Bucky fic where Sam cheers him up, & my sad yearning ass stuck in quarantine ran with it! Hope y’all enjoy!

The world has endured many struggles, many challenges, but she will always heal. But in the time it takes to get there, it can be bad and ugly. Bucky had seen more bad than good to be honest. Born near the end of the First World War, he grew up in a post war state. Many people who he should've known had died, and those around him shared that hole. Which is why the 20's were such a breath of fresh air. Everyone wanted to party and live high, but they soared too close to the sun, and the economy crashed.

He spent his adolescent years struggling to live through the depression. It wasn't easy, nor was it pretty, and he went to bed hungry every night. But through all the shit that had been thrown his way, he had Steve. Then, more war. He was afraid and angry with what was happening, and knew something had to be done. He made some amazing friends during that time, and lost a good few. That was when he and Steve became frozen in time, the latter quite literally so.

He doesn't remember too much from his time spent as Hydra's murdering puppet. It's all flashes of pain, fear, and screams. A hand on a throat, feeling as the windpipe gave way. A finger on a trigger from a distance. A knife plunged deep into a chest. It was all him, and yet, it wasn't. It was as though he was in an empty theater strapped to a chair, being forced to watch this horrific movie play out before his own eyes. For the longest time, he had no control. He wasn't an active part of his life. And then he broke free. He managed to escape, and was wanted for his crimes. He even managed to split up the avengers, the guilt overwhelming him. If he had just stayed low, none of that would've happened. 

And then those weird fucking monster things came down from space, yearning for blood and ready to destroy anything in their path. They fought good and hard, and he honestly thought they would win. The next thing he knows, he missed out on another four years of life that he won't be able to get back. His best friend in the world was now an old man, getting to live the life he had missed out on. He wasn't going to lie, that hurt. A lot.

But scattered amongst the wreckage of his life, glimpses of light shone through. His mother's warm embrace and gentle hum. Steve's bright smile and even brighter laugh. He and Natasha connected on another level that you couldn't even dream. T'Challa was understanding and a good friend to him while he was staying in Wakanda. Shuri was an actual saint, giving him a new arm and offering friendship in a dark and lonely time. He and Sam became reluctant friends, then took a shine to each other. Their sense of humor is one in the same, and they share the same taste on a lot of things. He was kind, funny, witty, compassionate, strong, the list could go on forever. And he was falling hook line and sinker. Utterly and completely head over heels.

Then just when he believed things might be looking up, the whole world shuts down. He remembers from what his mom said, there had been a pandemic in 1920. The Spanish Flu, if he remembered correctly. And now, exactly 100 years later, another pandemic rose from the ashes like the most hideous phoenix. Just when he was finally able to go out and try to live a normal life, another obstacle drops in his path. He had a whole list of things he wanted to do and places to see, and now he doesn't get to do any of that. Trapped within four walls and slowly going crazy.

He had every right to be mad. Nothing, it seems, would ever work out in his favor. And to top it all off, he was stuck with the man he wanted to kiss so badly but couldn't for fear of ruining what they had. He wanted to rip his fucking hair out.

Sam, god bless him, tried his best to keep him in good spirits. When news of covid-19 first spread, he had said, "There's still plenty of things we can do inside! I have Steve's old list of things he needed to catch up on, and I know you haven't heard of any of this stuff either, so we get to start from the top!" He excitedly pulled out the notepad, a few items down the list having been crossed off. "And the best part is, I keep remembering things I forgot to add, so we won't run out."

"Yippy," Bucky said in a flat tone. Sam nudged him with his elbow.

"Hey, there's some good stuff on here! There's tv shows, movies, and some of the greatest songs and bands of all time. You ever heard of Queen?"

"Who?"

"Oh my god you need my help," Sam said playfully, running a hand down his face. Bucky's lips quirked up ever so slightly.

At first he was okay. The constant influx of content kept him busy and his mind occupied. But he soon fell into a rut. Pacing the floor, he'd listen to his favorite songs Sam had shown him along with some new ones. Stare out the windows feeling empty, longing for society to pick up again. After watching a movie or two, he'd get fidgety and need to move about. He really enjoyed binging shows though. They sucked him into their world and wouldn't let go. Maybe because it was so different than what he had growing up. Thankfully they both knew to stay away from anything war themed or that might trigger his PTSD. But he'll be damned if he hadn't been completely obsessed with Breaking Bad.

But there were so many options, so many shows to watch that it was overwhelming. With so many things to pick, how could he choose? And out of the movies and shows, and the genres within those categories, it was simply impossible. And so he would cycle through in search of something to watch, only to come up empty handed. Things got better when he stopped trying to decide and let Sam pick for him. Sam really knew what's best.

God if he wasn't here, Bucky would actually go insane. He catches himself staring at the man even more now. Glancing out of the corner of his eye or full on staring, he just can't stop looking at him. He liked to keep his hair cut short, shaved down close to his head. His facial hair was neatly trimmed, the lines always smooth and precise and framed his mouth perfectly. His smile was so fucking bright it was almost blinding. That smile made his days better, and he tried to be less of an ass, just to see it more often. And his lips were full and soft, and he wanted so badly to be able to kiss them. His eyes were a gorgeous shade of dark chocolate, and you could get lost in them if you weren't careful. You could find yourself falling into them, deeper and deeper with no way out. Back when they were first shut in together, he remembers Sam playing the song Brown Eyed Girl. They had smiled as they listened to it, then slowly, began to dance along. That was when he knew he preferred himself a brown eyed man instead.

They were supposed to be watching some old scary movie that Sam claimed to be a classic. Had even said it was one of the most popular ones of all time, but he thought it was just plain boring and ended up watching the man beside him more than the screen. I mean, what was thrilling about a man in a hockey mask hiding in the bushes trying to kill teens? To him it was just lame, and no amount of fake blood could change that. Sam, as always, picked up on his mood.

"What, you don't like it?" Sam asked. Bucky jumped at his words and tore his eyes away from him, looking back at the movie.

"I never said that."

Sam shrugged, "Well you seem to be watching me more than the show." Bucky's face lit up a slight pink and his eyes widened slightly, not realizing he'd been caught so easily. Sam chuckled and bumped their shoulders together. "It's okay, I don't mind," he said to help ease his conscience. "But we can watch something else if you don't like it. Or we can do something else, I don't mind."

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah I'm not really into this," he admitted.

"Alright, no problem," Sam said. "You want me to pick, or do you want to choose something?" Bucky snorted, crossing his arms.

"Seeing as you picked this shitter, maybe I should be the one to pick the next one," he teased, snatching the remote. "What was that one Disney movie you told me about? The one where dogs eat spaghetti?"

"Oh so suddenly my choices in movies are good again."

"Just shut up and tell me what it's called."

"Well I can't do both," Sam joked. Bucky's mouth hung open in a shocked smile that he tried to mask as offense.

"Just tell me the name smart ass," he demanded. Sam was fighting back his snickers as he answered, "Dogs eat spaghetti."

"Dude I know that's not it!" he cried out.

"Yeah but you don't know what it's actually called!" he laughed, having fun withholding the information.

Bucky didn't mention that he just remembered the name of the movie. Instead he steadied him with a look. "Tell me, or else," he said with a playful growl.

Sam wasn't deterred in the slightest. He puffed out his chest as he said, "Make me."

Bucky grinned, wide with a hint of evil. "Oh I plan to." And then he pounced, pinning Sam down on the couch. He immediately started squirming as soon as fingers collided with his sides. His laughter soon followed. Bucky was completely entranced.

Sam threw his head back, allowing the laughter to flow freely from his mouth. He brought his knees up to his chest in a ball as he rocked from side to side, occasionally batting Bucky's hands away. "Dahahahamnit Bahaharns!"

"You know what you have to do to make it stop," he taunted. His hands journeyed up to dig into his armpits, making his laughter jump higher.

"SHIT NO NOT THERE!" he shouted, feeling his fingers scratch at the hollows. He squeezed his eyes shut as he cackled, completely unable to make the sensations stop. Bucky had a devious idea and bent down, blowing a wet raspberry against his neck. Sam squealed before dissolving into hysterical giggles.

"Nohohoho okay! Ohohokahay, I give! Ihi'll tehehell you!" Bucky continued the tickling for a second longer before backing off to let him breathe. Sam gasped in some much needed air. "Lady and the Tramp," he admitted. "It's Lady and the Tramp."

Bucky's smirk got even wider. "I know." Sam's eyes flew open and he glared at the other man. "What?"

Bucky shrugged his shoulders, "I remembered."

"Oh you little shit!" Sam cried, smacking his arm, making him laugh. "Now it's your turn!" Bucky stopped laughing, feeling butterflies begin to flutter in his stomach.

"Huh?" As soon as the question left his lips he felt Sam's body collide with his own as he was tackled. He held his arms in front of him to shield himself, giddy giggles already bubbling up in his throat.

"You didn't think I'd let you just get away with that," Sam teased, leaning closer. Bucky subconsciously scrunched his neck.

"Actually I kinda did."

Sam smiled, hovering his hands over his stomach with wiggling fingers. "Then you deserve everything you're gonna get."  

"Nohohohooo," he whined, knowing exactly what was to come. Sam made sure to keep his fingers a few inches above his stomach to keep him on edge. When he finally descended, he clawed into the muscle and vibrated his hands into the flesh. Bucky tried to hold his laughter back, he really did. But as soon as he saw the twinkle in his eyes and the goofy smile, he couldn't help the giggles that slipped out.

"Wow, you're more ticklish than you look," Sam commented. Bucky's face scrunched in confusion and embarrassment.

"Thahahank you?" It came out more as a question than a statement, and Sam had to fight the physical urge to aawww.

He moved on to his sides, squeezing up and down. His laugh became a deeper, more full sound. He grabbed onto Sam's wrists, but didn't bother pushing away. Instead it felt as though he was pulling him closer... He decided to make a mental note of that for later use.

He decided to drill his thumbs into his hips, making him buck and thrash wildly. Sam chuckled, "Is this how you got your nickname? 'Cause you buck like a wild bronco when tickled?" Bucky's cheeks grew darker at the question.

"Fuhuhuck you!" Sam gasped, never pausing in his work.

"How rude! And here I was just trying to strike up a friendly conversation!" He scratched along his waistline, drawing out mad cackles that left Bucky breathless. Sam was having the time of his life. "Who knew you could make so many sounds," he teased.

Bucky shook his head back and forth. "Juhuhust shuhut up!" Sam cocked his head to the side in a quizzical manner.

"Why? Does it make it worse?" When he didn't answer and only whined in response, Sam grinned wider. "I'll take that as a yes."

"You're sohoho mehehean!" he called out, unable to fight back, not that he really wanted to.

"Yeah? And you're cute when you blush," Sam barely realized he had even said it. It just slipped out and couldn't be taken back. Luckily the only affect his words had was darkening the already red blush. Bucky threw a hand up to hide his face as he giggled through his fingers.

"Nu uh, no hiding," Sam said, tickling under his arm and bringing it crashing down. His other hand trailed farther down, squeezing his thighs. Bucky actually screamed, his laughter hitting a whole new range. Encouraged by the new reactions, Sam brought his other hand lower. Bucky snorted when he squeezed the side of his leg, close to his knees. Sam raised his brows, an evil grin plastered on his face.

"Oh, is this a bad spot?" He skittered his fingers over his thighs, the thin sweatpants doing nothing to protect him. His eyes were squinted shut and his mouth hung open as loud laughter poured free. Sam moves to scratch the backs of Bucky's knees, making him snort once more.

"Nononono plehehehease!" Bucky pleaded.

"I'll take that as a yes," Sam chuckled. He raked his nails down the back of his knees, and Bucky practically screamed. He slammed his knees to his chest, which subsequently pushed Sam forward as well. He lost his balance and lurched towards him, catching himself by bracing his fall with his hands on each side of Bucky's head. They both froze, staring into each other's eyes. Bucky's laughter started to die down, his eyes glistening with unshed mirthful tears.

"You okay?" Sam asked, wanting to make sure he didn't go too far. Bucky nodded.

"Yeah, I'm good." Sam hadn't seen him smile like this in months, and it warmed his heart. "I, I needed that," he admitted. Sam smiled softly, the expression on his face could only be described as pure adoration.

"I'm glad to hear that." There was a beat where it was silent. And again, without thinking, Sam acted. He found himself leaning down and couldn't stop. It was as though time itself had slowed. And then in a rush, Bucky sat up and locked their lips together. They kissed for a moment before Bucky pulled away, still catching his breath.

"Still wanna watch that movie?"

Sam nodded and they cuddled next to each other on the couch. Bucky had an arm around his shoulders as Sam rested his head on his chest. The movie started. And if Sam was drawing lazy, tickly shapes into his side, Bucky didn't complain. Only would huff out a laugh every once in a while, squirming into the touch.

The earth may not be in a good place right now, but she will heal. Bucky was sure of it.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 141

141

Keith was tucked up in bed, saline IV drip in his arm. Lance had been jerking them off when Keith threw up across him. Orgasm, puke, panicked Keith. Moment ruined. Getting Keith up, showered, the bedding stripped and changed, his boyfriend was finally asleep. So much for coming back with a level head... Matt wasn’t Keith sitting ever again. Still, he was kind of cute when he was sleeping and sprouting nonsense. It wasn’t even funny nonsense. Their twins had been upgraded to cupcakes... so that was kind of funny, but Keith obviously not his limits both alcohol wise and mentally.

Heading into the living room, Rieva was back. He really wished they use the front door rather than balcony hoping

“How’s yours?”

“Had to put an IV line. Yours?”

“Tequila hit and he’d acquainting himself with the toilet”

“Did Matt say much?”

“Only that Keith was pretty much babbling by the third shot and obliterated by the 5th shot...”

“Surprised he made it that long... Am I... I did this, didn’t I?”

“Matt did. He wasn’t supposed to take Keith drinking while Keith was upset”

“Keith was upset because of me”

They’d got a lot done with Keith and Matt gone. He’d drafted his will, two copies, one in case Keith didn’t come back, which was now shredded, the other Rieva acted as his witness for. He didn’t have much, but if something happened he wanted Keith and the twins to be provided for. Everything but the coffee machine left to his boyfriend, which went to Pidge as a joke. Keith would decide how to split his assets and if there was something in particular their two best friends wanted Lance was confident Keith would let them take it. Shiro and Curtis to raise their twins if something happened. He hadn’t told Keith, because Keith didn’t want to think about things going wrong. He had a copy of his mother’s will, she’d tried to leave him things but he knew his siblings would contest it. The one thing he knew Luis would want would be Mami’s wedding and engagement ring set, to pass on. He’d slipped it off her finger before they flew back to America, then slid it back on at the service. Even if Luis wanted it, it was where it belonged. Where their Papi had slid it into place all those decades ago.

“Keith was upset because you’ve barely had time to talk about anything properly. Matt did mention you may wish to avoid the hotel lounge. Keith got a bit vocal about your sex life”

Lance groaned. Drunk Keith was a slut. Matt should have known better

“He’s lucky he doesn’t have alcohol poisoning... He’s also lucky Coran sent me back with extra medical supplies. Grab an IV bag if Matt needs one”

Rieva shrugged a shoulder

“He can suffer. I expected more maturity”

“I don’t know... Pidge turns to alcohol to solve all her problems”

“Yes, well. I only popped over to see how you were handling Keith. I can smell vomit in the air”

“Puked all over me. Gotta admit, as gross as it was, it was nice to not be the one throwing up all the time”

Not that Lance wanted to see Keith throwing up. He was pissed at Matt for letting Keith get into this state. Rieva was lucky he could see her and only smell Matt. His ego wanted to punch their friend in the face. Rieva screwed her nose up at his words

“At least mine made it to the bathroom. My plans for a swim are cancelled. Shall I pick you up something for dinner?”

“Yeah. That’d actually be great. Keith’s going to need food to soak up all the alcohol in his system. He still smells like a walking tequila bottle”

“He’ll be feeling it tomorrow. Alright, I’ll pop back soon. You should try rest too. You’re looking a little washed out”

“Try washing Keith when he’s crying, apologising, and groping me all at the same time”

“Nope. That’s a hard pass. I really am sorry for Matt’s actions”

“It’s fine. I totally owe you for today, so I’ll call it even”

“On the plus side, Coran’s fitting the drinks bill...”

He didn’t see that as a plus side. He’d have to pay something towards the room tab before they checked out. The rooms were something like $350 a night and he’d already been there twoish months... or was it three? He didn’t quite know where Keith got three months from. Maybe drunk Keith would tell him?

“... anyway, I’ll see you soon!”

Rieva was back out the window and across the next balcony before Lance could sigh. They were going to get busted for it. All it’d take was someone looking up and opening their big mouths over it. Just another reason why supernaturals shouldn’t be mixing with humans.

Heading back to Keith, his boyfriend was still in the same position Lance had left him in. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he placed his hand on Keith’s hair, letting the soft locks flop over his fingers. He didn’t know what Keith was thinking. Him taking the bite? What kind of crap was that? Keith would probably die before turning. If he turned, he’d have none of the benefits that came with turning young. He was trying to sign up for a life he knew wasn’t as glamorous as Hollywood made believe. He wasn’t going to take Keith’s warmth from him. He wasn’t going to curse him to their weird life. He loved his breathing happy human boyfriend. The feel of his strong heartbeat. The softness of Keith’s warmth as if cocooned around him. His scent. His smile. His ability to function without coffee. Humans were fragile, but he wouldn’t let Keith take the bite. One lifetime with Human Keith was as good as a million with vampire Keith who risked insanity and the troubles of ego. The constant risk of blood borne infection. Their egos might not even get along. Keith’s might outright reject the parts of him he’d liked as a human, and Lance might never recover from the guilt he knew would come if he turned him.

Stroking Keith’s hair, he wished they’d stay like this. Together. He shouldn’t have kept things from Keith, but Keith severely miscalculated how low Lance was. He’d barely started recovering when Mami passed. Yeah, he knew Keith hadn’t had a fun time, but... yeah. He’d fucked things up. The pat on the head and the reassurance he craved came from Rieva. She’d gone to get herself a glass of water from the kitchenette, seeing all the injections and stuff Coran had him taking on top of fresh blood, that he now definitely assumed had been cut off thanks to Keith coming, though feeding from Keith was dangerous. A full feed would leave him weak, his body not able to keep up with his desires to feed Lance as much as he needed. He supposed vampires would simply call in pets to entertain other breeders, that wasn’t what he wanted at all. Love was worth more than blood. Could a human not love a vampire? Or was Keith struggling with the idea of mortality?

Then there was what he’d said. Marriage. Um. Lance wasn’t in a rush. He didn’t feel he had to be married to be with Keith. It went against his romantic heart, but he also didn’t want an engagement ring out of duty. Things like marriage should wait. They hadn’t been together a year, rushing to sign up for the rest of their lives without ironing out the teething problems asked for trouble. Werewolves were different with their concept of marriage. Vampires different again. Vampires generally didn’t marry humans. Humans were generally only ever pets. Keith was not his pet. Did Keith not see them as partners? Did he really see Lance as out of reach permanently if he didn’t take the bite? He hated the thought. The thought he’d drifted so far away from being human in his boyfriend’s eyes. Why couldn’t what they’d had and would have be enough?

*

Falling asleep against Keith, Rieva woke him gently. Matt hanging back, looking like shit

“I’ve brought dinner up if you’d like to join us”

It was food time already? His nap schedule ruined, and his body making it’s dislike known. He’d barely had anything to drink either. One day back with Keith and he acting like a kid

“Yeah... smells good”

“Chicken and rice. Extra for Keith”

“Thanks. I’ll give you the money...”

“We already decided we’re even. I know I told you to nap, yet, I can’t say you seem too rested”

“I got too caught up in taking care of him that I might have forgotten to eat”

Rieva took him by the arm, pulling Lance off Keith who whined in his sleep, patting around for him. Leaning back, Lance kissed Keith’s cheek, his boyfriend’s breath hideous, but trying to brush Keith’s teeth didn’t exactly work when his boyfriend wanted to suck on the toothbrush

“Babe, you awake?”

“Ngggh...”

Nope. He needed sleep. The more sleep the better. He was going to be hung over as fuck

“You just sleep. I’ll be back soon”

“Unmg”

“I know. You regret your life choices. It’s okay, just sleep it off”

“Mhndssf”

“I love you, too”

The three of them left Keith sleeping, Matt throwing himself down on the sofa with such force Lance was worried it was about to break

“I’m amazed you speak drunken Keith. He stopped making sense to me”

Lance shook his head

“Thanks for that. I don’t, and I don’t appreciate you getting him drunk”

“Trust me, dude. No more tequila for him. no mas tequila”

Matt’s Spanish was like nails on a chalk board, making him cringe. He’d even thrown in a very bad Spanish accent trying to sell the three words

“Did he try hitting on you? He’s a slut when he’s drunk”

“No. That would have been easier to deal with. It was all “I love Lance!”. “Lance likes it when I hold hips down and fuck him!”. “Lance is perfection!”. “Lance is life!”. I want my cupcakes!””

Lance groaned. He’d never be able to face any of the hotel staff again

“You shouldn’t have taken him drinking...”

“I know! He just seemed like he needed to let loose”

There was any number of things Matt could have taken Keith off and done...

“Then take him for Karaoke. Give him like two shots and he’ll get up there... Do you have any idea what he’s been saying?”

“That he’s serious about being with you?”

“That the wants to be bitten”

“Ah. He’ll get over that”

Matt waved it off dismissively

“That doesn’t seem like something he’ll just get over, Matt”

Not when Keith had this idea of forever being unnaturally long

“He had something like 8 shots. He won’t remember”

“That’s beside the point because I remember. Couldn’t you have picked something else to talk about?”

“Trust me, I tried”

Rieva interrupted the pair of them

“Aaaaaanyway, Lance, you need to eat. One full blood bag and your food”

“I will”

“You’ll do it now or you’ll forget”

“I don’t forget. It’d be so much easier if I did”

“I don’t care for your excuses, eat, now”

He wasn’t trying to make excuses. He’d come out to eat with his... pack. He was just trying to learn about what Keith had said while drunk. Not putting off eating. This was why he had a hard time accepting the help of his friends because, despite wanting the best for him, he now felt slightly smothered.

Thanks to the feeling of being smothered, Lance was distant through dinner. Before he knew what happened he found his plate emptied. Matt and Rieva also having finished eating, with Matt looking too well after the greasy chicken

“If you’re going to puke, please try to make it to the bathroom”

The scent of Keith’s vomit was bad enough. He didn’t need Matt puking, he was liable to start vomiting at any moment as it was. The chicken looked good, tasted good, but the amount of oil coupled with the scent was definitely not good.

Matt nodded, chicken bone still his mouth

“I think I’m going to eat and run before you start sucking down that blood”

“Matthew!”

Matt shrugged

“He said to go if I’m feeling sick, I’m feeling sick, take care of meeee”

Eh. Close enough. He had Keith to nurse as it was

“I’m sorry, Lance. Matt’s banned from drinking until we get home”

Good luck with that one. Matt not drinking was like Keith not having coffee. If he wanted to drink, he would. That was just how Matt was

“What? Babe. Nooooo”

“You should have thought about that before you ruined our plans. You reap what you sow”

“Lance, please tell me we’re on the first plane out of here tomorrow”

He got it. He was interrupting their lives. Yep. He knew it. Rieva and Matt should be back in America. He’d lasted long enough on his own. He could manage

“You guys can go if you really want to, but I want to spend some more time here”

Rieva elbowed Matt

“Lance, we’re not leaving until you are ready”

Open wound. Pour in salt. Bam. Same feeling as what he felt at Rieva mothering him

“I’ll think about it some more. Thanks for the help earlier. It felt good to get things organised”

“You’re very welcome. Don’t stay up too late”

That meant no walk along the beach alone at night. Too bad for Rieva that he was going to. Lance supposed it was a bit weird, but to him it was like a treat for making it through the day. He could walk the beach, swim if he felt like it, breathe in the salt air and just let go

“Alright. Off you both go. I’ll take care of the clean up”

He’d said alright. Not that he’d promised to. It’d been far too long since he’d been swimming and he’d always loved the water. Going home meant returning to dry inland heat and not a pool in sight. Why couldn’t people just trust him to make the choices that made him happy and his head less busy? No one bothered him. He bothered no one. He always dressed warmly enough... He’d wake Keith up and let him know before he went. No one could be mad at him for that. This was why he’d been keeping so much to himself. Because he knew his mental health was being a little shit and his ego a flaring arsehole. He’d asked for time, not for love to be shoved down his throat at the first possible instance until it choked him.

[iheartsunset]

Nick is also a fun character, I would enjoy some HCs for him

Papa Louie Nick HCs

(I’m so sorry I forgot about this ask I didn’t mean to i just have way too many tests going on that I keep failing, and I’ll try to do these on time from now on)

-Nick Banks (haha get it like river bank hahaha i hate my sense of humor) is an 18 year old boy who’s fresh out of high school and currently wondering what to do with his life. He works from home as a multimedia translator (like fit foreign language shows and books and comics and stuff) and a language tutor for CommYouNicate, though he is currently unsatisfied with both of these jobs. He’s also a rafting champion and plans to make it his full time job, although his multiple health problems often hinder his outside performances. He lives with his overprotective parents in a riverside Tacodale cottage.

-Nick has asthma and a congenital heart disease that made him easier to exhaust the other kids. His family grew extremely overprotective and doting of him while his peers ostracized him or mocked him for this. Other kids used to exploit this and often physically bullied him, making Nick so jumpy that he became clumsy. Nick doesn’t let any of this get him down, as he’s completely determined to prove everyone wrong and succeed despite his health problems, which he has done with his many rafting awards.

-He once made a wattpad account and was immediately recommended “Bought By the Romano Family Quartet (Carlo Romano x reader)”. He immediately deleted the app and never went back. Yeah I got this from one of @ccwastaken ‘s asks and I can’t stop thinking about it even though it was so long ago

-Nick is very shy and bashful, yet he jokes around a lot and often laments on how much other people suck. Like imagine you’re in the among us dead player chat and you’re all talking about everyone still alive is so stupid for not realizing who the imposter is. That’s him. Although he always says it really quietly or in another language so that nobody beats his ass. Even though he’s shy, he still has a lot of confidence in himself and uses this for rafting. Around Koilee, he becomes a blushing mumbling mess though, and someone else always steps in to order for him during these times.

-This dude speaks so many languages and dialects, it’s insane. English, Spanish, French, Swahili, Japanese, Tagalog, Mandarin, you name it he probably speaks it. Since he spends lots of his time indoors, he watches shows from other countries and reads foreign books that allow him to learn other languages. Other than rafting, it’s his favorite hobby, but now that does it for a job, it’s a lot less fun.

-He net Mitch when they were kids at a summer camp, where the latter defended him from bullies. Now they’re both best friends and are almost always seen together. Nick likes to raft with Mitch to the Tacomia (but he hates enduring Maggie scolding them for using a dang boat to get to work). Nick also helps teach Tohru Japanese, Prudence German, and Nevada Chinese, along with many other Flipline residents. He’s good friends with all of his clients, but he’s closest to Mitch and Wally.

-He has 7 pet goldfishes named Number One, Number Two, Number Three, Number Four, Number Five, Number Six, and Number Seven. He talks to them all the time and keeps many pictures of them in his phone.

-He will cry in movies or documentaries where animals die. Like he despises Old Yeller with all of his being and refuses to even look at Marley and Me.

-He has a huge and obvious crush on Koilee. This stemmed from him deciding to accompany Mitch and Wally to Sakura Bay one day for fishing near the Pacific coast. He had somehow tripped off the boat and into the ocean without his life vest, and was drowning despite still being pretty close to the shore, so Koilee swam to save him. This, combined with his suspicion of her being a mermaid are the main reasons for his crush, although she always mistakes him for a child and is oblivious to his feelings. Carlo Romano hates hanging out near Tacodale and Mitch and Wally because Nick is always there and will awkwardly try to confess his love to Koilee all the time, despite he and Koilee obviously being a thing and Koilee definitely not being into him.

-He likes visiting interactive science museums since he enjoys conducting experiments and playing with the displays and activities. He hates art museums, though, because he hates analyzing anything and he just wants to look at the pretty art work without Brody hanging around him for some reason while being the art snob he is.

-He got into rafting after meeting Deano on his childhood trip to Portallini. Deano encourages him to take up boating as an outlet and mentored him. Deano also taught him Italian, which helped spark an interest in languages.

-He owns many different colored safety vests and life boat vests. He even has some decorated for fancy events and parties. His buddy Trishna thinks it could be a very good fashion trend, but Nick doesn’t think so, as he just wants them for safety.

-His favorite supernatural creatures are sirens and mermaids, stemming from The Little Mermaid.

-Sorry I don’t have too many quality hcs about my dear sweet boy, but I still love him with 1/4 of my heart cause the rest is reserved for Taylor and Wally

[laufire]

Black Sails

Top 5 favourite characters: Max, Silver, Jack, Madi, and Flint.

Other characters you like: Mr. Scott, Anne, Miranda, Idelle, Eleanor, Billy, Eme, the Maroon Queen, Featherstone, Ms. Guthrie, Muldoon, DeGroot...

Least favourite characters: Rogers, Ashe, Alfred Hamilton and Richard Guthrie are my Most Disliked People lol. Dufresne and Hornigold can suck it too xD

Otps: Silverflintmadi, Flintmiranda, Maxanne + Rackanne, Maxanor. Don’t ask me to choose lol.

Notps: Eleanor/Rogers, Silver/Thomas. Though not with the ~passion I dislike other notps of mine -I just find the first depressing in canon and the latter tiresome in fanon *shrugs*.

Favourite friendships: Silver & Max & Jack; Silver & the Walrus crew (THE LOVE THERE), Idelle & Max.

Favourite family: Madi’s family >>>>>>>>. It’s not like there’s many options to choose from lmao, but even if there was, I’d still pick them. What a gr10 reversal of one of most hated tropes *-* (aka: having a character of color save or prioritize a white character at the expense of their own relatives, to the point where sometimes it even costs them their lives).

Favourite episodes: this is one of the shows I have most difficulty picking favourite episodes tbh. Every one in s4 (I still haven’t watched the finale... I should stop putting that off lol) has hit me where I live. Same with s3, really. s1 and s2 were less !!!!! but I’ve never disliked a single episode, so. Choices, choices. To pick one of each so far (minus s4 since I haven’t completed it): 1x03 (probably a... controversial choice, but it’s when I knew the show was something else), 2x10 (I love having my heart broken and this episode provided that. And I love seeing Max & co-winning and I got that too!), and 3x05 (the Silverflint!! Madi’s family!! Flint & The Maroon Queen’s scene! Flint’s visions! Max forcing Rogers to make a place for her on the council!! Max’s “I AM Nassau”!! Spoken Spanish that didn’t make my ears bleed!!!).

Favourite season/book/movie: s4. Each episode has been just. too much xD. So thematically perfect. I hope the finale feels like that too.

Favourite quotes: oof. How to choose. Max’s quote about refusing to make enemies of those one day she could call friends; her rant about Rogers sitting “in [her] fucking chair!!”; her speech to Anne in 4x08; Silver’s “I am no one from nowhere” quote; Madi’s about the “multitude of voices”; Jack’s “did I make up a lot of ground to catch you” speech; Flint’s “no daylight between you and I” (WHO SAYS THAT. IN *PUBLIC*. I swear it’s somehow the most indecent moment of the show. It overwhelms me xDD); Idelle’s quote about Max when she confronts Anne; Mr. Scott’s “only YOU” to Madi. I’d say those are my ultimate favourites.

Best musical moment: the intro. I love it.

Moment that made you fangirl/boy the hardest: Silver and Max’s interacting again in s4 made me lose it. Also, that Look between Max and Flint and Jack confirming later Flint had argued to kill her so she wouldn’t fuck with their plans anymore lmao.

When it really disappointed you: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Saddest moment: me at the progressive erosion of Silverflint’s relationship -> DDD:

Most well-done character death: Eleanor’s, I’d say.

Favourite guest star: Idek what I’d count as guest star with this show... I’m going with Idelle. If she appears too much to be considered a “guest”, the Maroon Queen.

Favourite cast member: JPK. She blends so, so well with her roles? Sometimes I have an incredibly hard time remembering Max and Nora West-Allen are played by the same person, ngl xD

Character you wish was still alive: both Miranda and Mr. Scott, though the latter has an edge because I have the NEED of knowing how he would’ve acted if he was in s4.

One thing you hope really happens: that I get the time I need to finish my WIPs and that NO ONE, EVER, tries to do a spin-off/remake/ANYTHING like that with it xD

Most shocking twist: Mr. Scott’s reveal in 3x04, if only because it was one of the few major things I wasn’t spoiled at all about xD. But I love how it changes your perspective of his s1-2 storylines.

When did you start watching/reading?: a few months ago.

Best animal/creature: ... sharks xD. We owe them so much (if Silver’s parrot was canon here, well).

Favourite location: Nassau (aka Max’s Domain).

Trope you wish they would stop using: n/a. I love this show’s tropes and themes lol.

One thing this show/book/film does better than others: lots of stuff xD. Dialogue is one; deviating from expectations and archetypes is another.

Funniest moments: WHO’S BILLY. The Silverflintbones pseudo-triangle xD. Silver’s s1 antics.

Couple you would like to see: *coughs* I could’ve coped with Silverflintmadi going all the way xD

Actor/Actress you want to join the cast: Maggie Smith should’ve had a cameo ¬¬

Favourite outfit: one?!? Have you SEEN everything Max’s worn in season four?? Or Eleanor in s1-2?? Jack’s Iconique Looks?? *sighs* I suppose I have a soft spot for Max wearing red, so that.

Favourite item: “La Galatea”, the book Flint gave to Miranda as an apology. My heart :((( (not to mention it reminds me to my own original WIPs).

Do you own anything related to this show/book/film?: ................ the DVDs xD. They were a little over 20 bucks total and I gave them to myself for my birthday lol (I just don’t trust Netflix anymore and I don’t want to lose easy access to a HQ version the show, so fork it). I own the Treasure Planet DVD (which came along with a computer game), but I have no idea of where I put it. And I have a copy of Treasure Island ofc (that I want to re-read when I finish the show).

What house/team/group/friendship group/family/race etc would you be in?: my heart is with Flintmadi’s cause but my brain and need to win with Max’s team xD

Most boring plotline: eh. I didn’t much care for Blackbeard’s deal (though I felt for his death, because it was so fucking awful).

Most laughably bad moment: n/a.

Best flashback/flashforward if any: The Sword Flirting Sparring flashbacks ofc *-*

Most layered character: Flint and Silver ofc.

Most one-dimensional character: the one-note characters that are just there at plot devices. And of those with a little more relevance to our mains, Thomas is the least expanded-on by far *shrugs* (which doesn’t mean “poorly written”).

Scariest moment: Silver’s state when he thought he lost Madi. No wonder Flint was so worried tbh.

Grossest moment: putting aside the physically gross moments (of which this show has a few, lbr. It did not shy away from injuries, etc.)... I had my most visceral reaction to Rogers speaking with Madi. Like, fuck off dude xD. ALSO: Billy’s beard. Kill it pls.

Best looking male: Joshua was a dork and a cutie. Flint is so not my type but there are... moments xD. Same with Silver when he’s in a shippy context, even if normally I’m all ??? at his face lol.

Best looking female: now this one is a lot harder xDD. I always end up saying Max because... have you seen her. They style her so lovingly *-*. But really, which of these women isn’t absolutely gorgeous in their unique way.

Who you’re crushing on (if any): Anne. She reminds me of my ~first love lol (looks-wise at least xD). And I know I’d be drawn to her...  sunny disposition lmao.

Favourite cast moment: in my lurking over blogs to add stuff in the queue, I saw twitter exchange where Silver’s actor says Silver’s actions against Billy were revenge for the potatoes xD, and Billy’s replied he should’ve made him peel carrots, since he “likes their colouring”. LMFAO.

Favourite transportation: the Walrus, obviously. I’m sentimental :(

Most beautiful scene (scenery/shot wise): Charlestown in flames was hella pretty :))))))

Unanswered question/continuity issue/plot error that bugs you: n/a.

Best promo: I’ve seen a promo picture for s3 with Flint standing over a giant British flag on fire... very evocative.

At what point did you fall in love with this show/book: 1x03. I liked the previous episodes alone, but it was Max’s insistence of rejecting Eleanor’s help that took it over the edge. I’ve said before that although it made things harder for her in the short term, to me it showed how different and impressive a character it was and, knowing that things would go really well for her afterwards, made me see just how much promise the show had.

[kingofdirtandnothing]

@polyfacetious big ass Christmas Drabble Extravagaza: Day Ten

Miles has been lurking. Kinda. 

Because lurking is a way nicer way to say he’s been kind of, sort of stalking the cute guy who worked at the flower shop. Because homeboy was tall, and handsome as hell, et cetera, et cetera. 

Miles just...needed some time to figure things out. How to go about it. No rushing in half cocked, that’s what his mom would say. Because that’s what Dad would do. And they were trying to keep Dad from doing that. 

Which is how Miles ended up Fresh Prince-ing it, and moving from Chicago all the way to Monte Carlo, to try and help his dad. His parents had been divorced since he was five years old, and honestly the thought of them being together was weirder than anything. 

Mark had never tried to be his dad, and Miles always appreciated that. He loved Mark like family too, but those were shoes no one else could fill. No matter what ocean was between them. So when Mom started worrying about Dad’s mental health, it made sense for Miles to be the one to step up. 

He graduated last year, and this was a free freaking year between high school and college. A year to party and do whatever he wanted, before he buckled down and got his life on track. Chemical engineering degrees weren’t going to get themselves.

And at first, Miles thought about just going for it. Sauntering up in there, handing his phone over to the cute white boy and going ‘hey sexy, call me sometime’. Because if there was one thing Miles was good at, it was getting numbers. And yeah, he could have dropped this whole virginity thing awhile ago if he wanted to, but he was waiting for someone special. 

That was Dad’s fault. Mom and Mark told him a whole bunch of times that sex was just something people did, and as long as he was safe with it, that it was En Bee Dee. No big deal. But Dad...Dad talked about love and relationships like they were some kind of fragile antique. That it was worth it to wait for the right person for your first time. 

And now he was here, and staying here for at least a year, and every time Miles wound himself up to go spit game at the cute white boy florist, he stopped himself. Because Max (he wore a name tag, it’s not like Miles was some kind of creepy Facebook stalker) had real nice eyes and a pretty smile, and he seemed like a cool ass dude. 

You didn’t go in on nice people like that. (Somewhere in the back of his head, he can hear his mom’s voice asking him ‘why would you treat anyone like that, why does their worth define your perception?’ but Miles isn’t listening because he’s eighteen, he can only take so much psychological shit in a day, thanks mom.)

So now Miles was trying to figure out how to do this right. Because it was decided, which maybe he shouldn’t decide shit without actually talking to the guy, but too late. Miles was going to date the cute white boy, and he was going to do everything right, full meet cute and shit, and he was gonna win him over, then get his cherry popped all romantically. It was a Plan. Capital letters and everything.

But he’d never actually done this before, and the books in the romance section in Dad’s shop weren’t super helpful. Probably because most of them were super heteronormative and lame, but Miles had snuck out some pearls of wisdom. 

Like...food. Food was always the way to win somebody over. If you were into somebody and they didn’t like food, then you needed to clear the fuck out and find somebody else. 

So Miles decided that he was going to win Max over with food. And after an afternoon group chat texting spree with Mark and Mom, who was definitely not working even though she was at work, they decided that Miles cooking at home would be too intense to start off with. Way too much room for rejection. Also, Miles couldn’t cook for shit, so. 

Take away. That’s what he was going to start with. The good stuff, from Diego’s, because you had to eat it fast, while it was still warm, so it gave Miles a reason to stick around the flower shop and talk. Then maybe by the time they were done eating, he could drop an ask for Max’s number and walk out of there, smooth as butter. 

Now, he just had to survive Diego and get the tacos. Which was easier said than done, because Diego liked to talk mad shit, especially once he realized that Miles spoke Spanish. (And Miles realized that Diego stuttered way less in Spanish, so he dusted off his Rosetta Stone and practiced that shit at night, just to make sure it was all fresh in his mind.)

Thankfully, it was late enough in the afternoon that the line wasn’t too long. Diego’s got mad busy around noon, because everyone knew when he started cooking fresh and they wanted to get the food right off of the grill. 

But Miles, he knew the better secret. If you waited for the lunch crowd to thin out and bail, then Diego would have to make stuff fresh for you anyway. Still the same fresh off the grill meat and tortillas, but none of the wait. 

Then again, Miles didn’t have a job to get back to, so maybe that had something to do with why his secret tip worked for him and not for anybody else.

“Que pasa, homie!” Miles throws his arms out wide when he steps into the little shop, and is greeted with Diego leaning across the counter to smack knuckles with him, and then pull Miles into one of those single armed hugs that dudes did. 

“You’re late today.” Diego glances up at the clock. It’s closer to two than it is to one, and Miles has made a habit of being here about fifteen after one, most days. 

“Yeah. I was texting with my mom, you know how it is.” Diego’s eyes are big and brown and warm, lips tugging up into a smile. You wouldn’t live if you said it to his face, but everybody knew Diego was a Class A Mama’s Boy. 

“Yeah, for sure.” Diego smacks him in the arm one more time before he turns back to the flat top behind the counter. “Your usual?”

There’s a pang of nerves, like drunk butterflies behind Miles’ ribs. “Two actually.” That gets him a raised eyebrow from Diego. Dad usually ate with M’Baku and James at the book store. And when they ate lunch together, it was almost always at Tony’s. (Because Tony would feed Dad for free, that place was not cheap.)

“Two huh?” It doesn’t take more than a second for Diego to hone in on it. Dude was like a sexy, stuttering shark. “You got a date or something, hermano?” 

See, that was tricky. Because Diego was opening the door up to talk shit about him, but he was doing it in a way that made Miles feel warm and fuzzy. What a jerk. “Hopefully.” Fuck it, there was no such thing as too much input. “I’m gonna take it over to the hot guy at the flower shop and see if I can get the digits.” Miles holds up his phone, giving it a little shake. 

“Max?” Diego’s laughter is big and bright. If ever there was a dude who guffawed, it was Diego. “Man, I wouldn’t have pegged him as your type.”

See, there it was. Here came the shit talking. But for once, Miles was ready. “Nuh uh, man.” He waggles a finger in Diego’s face, after he shoves his phone back into the back pocket of his jeans. “You don’t get to come at me about being white boy thirsty, you hear me?”

That earns him something that’s somewhere between a cough, a laugh and a gurgle, and Diego gives him the finger, chopping the meat up on the grill with the other hand. Yeah, being a mama’s boy wasn’t the only thing Miles knew about Diego. Homeboy had it bad for Klaus across the street. 

But Miles can’t leave it at that, and it’s not like he can talk to his parents about this part. They’d just ‘aww’ at him, and he can’t take that. “He’s hot, okay? And he seems nice.” Seems, because Miles has never actually talked to the dude. He just hopes Diego won’t poke holes in his plan, here. They didn’t need a Titanic situation happening. 

“Max is cool.” Diego agrees, dumping the meat into the corn tortillas in their red and white checked cardboard containers. “He knows a crazy lot about flowers, too. When I wanted to send some to my mom, he walked me around through there and told me what all the different ones meant, and how people used to send love letters with flowers. That shit was wild, like even the color mattered. Can you imagine? Sneaking somebody a random ass bouquet of flowers but instead of it really being random, you were telling them that you were crazy in love with them and wanted their body.”

Diego hands over the two containers of street tacos, a couple of napkins tucked underneath so that Miles wouldn’t forget. They go easy into Miles’ hands, and his thanks is swallowed up by Diego continuing to talk. “Play it cool, man. I don’t think he gets hit on a lot. So it might take him some time to realize that you’re actually into him. So don’t freak and bail, okay?”

Miles would love to take offense to that, except for the fact that he’s absolutely the kind of dude who would freak out and bail at the first sign of rejection. He had a delicate soul, okay? Fine, fine he could figure it out and power through the teeth grinding mortification of waiting to see if somebody was into you. 

“Yeah yeah, I got it. Play it cool.” Miles backs up towards the door, pressing down his left heel and his right toe to do a little about face before he gets the gross, mushy shit out. “Thanks man, you’re the best.”

And of course, his emotional maturity is rewarded with Diego shouting ‘I LOVE YOU BABY, YOU’RE SO GOOD TO ME’ and making obnoxious sucking  kissy noises as Miles hurries out of the door and onto the street. Miles could still hear him with the door closed. What an asshole. (Miles loved the shit outta him.)

It’s four buildings down and crossing the street before Miles finds himself in front of the Midgar Flower Shop. And it’s only when he’s standing there that Miles realized he didn’t even check if Max was working today. What the hell was he going to do with extra tacos if Max wasn’t here? Miles couldn’t give them to the pretty brunette, he didn’t want her to get any ideas-

-”Max is inside. I’ll be back in thirty minutes! You guys have fun!” Speak of the adorable devil, Miles swears a blue streak as the pretty brunette pats him on the back and actually fucking skips away from him, her ponytail bouncing in the breeze. Someone really needed to put a bell on her. 

Miles pulls in a deep breath and steps inside, all those worried butterflies in his stomach turning into dancing ones when Max looks up from where he was cutting the stems on some flowers, and smiles at him. “Hey. What can I do for you?”

Miles offers over one of the containers of street tacos, his heart sitting high in his throat.. 

“Diego was having a special.” No he wasn’t. “Buy one, get one free.” He would never. Stepping up to the counter, Miles puts Max’s tacos down, in case he needed to make a swift exit. 

“You looked kinda hungry, so I figured I’d see if you wanted them or something.”