#more funny miles g! i demand it!

[moralesmilesanhour]

It be cracking me tf up when people write Miles G like Riley from The Boondocks

[fuxuannie]

↳ pairing : miles morales x g-neutral reader

↳ synopsis : a complicated crush

↳ authors note : theres someone named 'milestokilometers' (?) thats always in my notifs whenever i post miles and i find it really funny HAHAHA an old draft (like, i wrote this the day i watched atsv), wanted to get it out of the way

The first time you encounter the spider-boy was on a particularly stressful day. You just finished texting Miles that you needed a breather and wanted to hang ontop of your apartment rooftop for a few hours, just to clear your mind.

To your surprise, it seemed like the Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman coincidentally swung by your rooftop and needed a break too.

That sparked a rather.. interesting dynamic between the both of you. You were sort of taken aback on how fond Spiderman seemed of you, since he'd visit almost every other day.

For starters, hugs seemed to last far longer than they needed to when it came to you. You've seen his public appearances, how the exchange seemed to last a mere second with his fans. However with you, it lingers. It stays for almost two seconds longer and almost as if he's starved of such affection.

Secondly was the way he'd swing by at the most random and ungodly hours of the night to knock at your window and go; "I made you a playlist :)" while you just have to let him in and listen to the whole thing with him. You have no idea how he knows that you barely sleep either.

Thirdly is the way he'll always try to put a smile on your face. It'll always be your favorite thing whenever there's a silly thing going on and he looks at you to see if you saw it too, just so he'll see you laugh and laugh along with you.

And one of the more embarassing things to mention were the public appearances. You and Spiderman often went on hangouts, (he called them dates and you unintentionally friendzoned him) and even if you do your absolute best to avoid it, you'll always find paparazzi spotting the both of you. But even amidst the crowd, you can see how his attention is fixed on you. As if nothing could break his gaze if attempted.

You won't ever forget the time that Miles, your best friend and long term crush asked where you got the keychain on your bag from (which was a gift from Spiderman after he pointed at matching keychains and practically declared to everyone in the store he was buying it for you) and you answered: "Someone special to me." You noticed a bit of a glint or glow in his eyes, almost as if he was happy for you.. for some reason.

Though you did admit you found it a little strange.. your best friends sudden Q&A sessions about Spiderman, you mean.

"What do you think about Spiderman?"

"Pretty cool superhero, amiright?"

"His costume does NOT look like hes bleeding from his armpits, surely you'll agree?"

You find it odd but brush it off, at least you're done with class for the day and get to meet with the center topic of every question Miles has asked you today.

"Spiderman." Smiling as he swung onto your rooftop, he arrives on time with the same flashy landing. "(name)!" There he goes to practically tackle you into a hug, squeezing you tightly as you can see the joy in his eyes. "I know that it's only been a few minu- ahem. hours.. since we last saw each other, it's been so lonely!"

You raise a brow in amusement, chuckling a little at his antics. "Aren't you the Spiderman? I'm sure you have a lot of friends or fans who'd love to see you." You inquired but he shakes his head a little and sighs.

"Well yeah.. of course I do, but you're the one I wanna spend time with."

"..That's so unbelievably cheesy-"

"Shut up!" He demands, causing you to laugh at his almost instant embarassment. "You know, my best friend was asking so much about you.. I think he's your biggest fan." You add to the conversation, leaning against a safety fence as he chuckled. "Really? What gives you that idea?"

You huff and cross your arms. "Just.. weird questions. What I think of you, if you're cool and if your costume looked like you were bleeding out if your armpits."

"What did you answer?"

"I didn't answer any of them," You say with a huff, already feeling a headache coming in right after recalling that memory. "But I do think you're bleeding out of your armpits."

"RUDE."

It doesn't take a genius to tell he's unamused even under the mask, how his eyes looked spoke enough volumes. The iconic 'are you serious.' look was evident enough and it makes you giggle, giving him a light nudge. "I'm kiddinggg... kind of."

Spiderman chuckles and crosses his arms, looking at your fit of giggles and smiling softly under his mask. "Cute."

"I'm curious.. you talk about this friend of yours alot.. Miles, isn't it? What's he like?" He asks curiously, knowing damn well he just wants to hear what you say about him to other people. Was this the best way to do it? Not exactly, but curiosity kills the cat.. or whatever the saying is.

"Did I not tell you about him? Well.. he's a bit of a clutz.. rather clumsy at times, usually bumping into me or something.."

Miles was going to pretend he doesn't know the reason he does that is to just be able to be super close to you.

"Sometimes he's a little bit reckless, usually a very messy guy and leaves a mess whenever he goes over to my house.. However, despite all of that.. I really really like him."

What.

"You like m- Miles ???"

He watches you smile fondly at the sky. "Yeah. A lot."

If only you could see the face he's making under that mask, a mix of fluster and absolute joy at those words. You actually liked him. "Well.. what stops you from telling him?" Miles inquired, watching you sigh and bury your head into your hands. "And what? Get badly rejected and lose my best friend? Nah man.. I can't lose him, not like that."

"Hey, look at me."

He places his hands on your shoulders, making you look right at him as he gives you a reassuring squeeze. "You don't have to be so afraid, I don't think there's much to lose.. who knows? Maybe he feels the same."

You chuckle a little at the idea, completely clueless to how excited Miles was gonna be once he gets that text from you. "Thanks, Spiderman."

"You're welcome."

[chailoserr]

Your Bleach headcanons are just *chef's kiss*. Could you do some for Ichigo, Grimmjow, and Riruka?

of course:)

BLEACH HEADCANONS PT 2

warnings: apart from a couple of the usual sex jokes, none

ICHIGO

• his most played song one year was definitely freek-a-leek

• something about that is just so funny to me

• he probably has movie nights with his sisters on occasion

• they’d probably watch some really cheesy and poorly made killer animal movies like “house shark”

• i feel like he’s a smoothie guy, loves a good smoothie

• probably stays up late with the gang and they have those long ass late night talks about random stuff as they look at the stars like the main characters they are

• i feel like aliens in the attic would be his fav movie

• will go the extra mile just to NOT fight with kenpachi again

• and i mean the extra mile, as far as dressing up as an elderly woman to faking his death, anything to keep kenpachi from trying to beat his ass

• probably collects CDs, he’d have a whole rack full of them and whenever the gang stays over they play them

• i feel like he’d practice fighting with renji and uryuu while orihime, chad, and rukia play referees

• no actual relevant fighting would be done, it’d just be ichigo tackling uryuu and renji into the mat while rukia and orihime blew their referee whistles repeatedly

• i think he’d be the group’s designated driver

• has probably done those little fake stick on tattoos with his sisters

• keeps every gift that his friends give him bc he’s a sweetheart like that

GRIMMJOW

• or as i like to call him, “grilled justin”

• this guy’s gonna get two different sets of headcanons bc i was a bit too aggressive with this first bit

•this man eats eggs r a w

• he’ll use the same tissue he used to wipe his nose until it’s DISINTEGRATED

• man puts celery, protein powder, raw eggs, and MILK in his smoothies

• he likes to fart and blame other people in the room

• he probably pees wherever in las noches bc he’s “marking his territory”

• “this stream of piss from here to HERE is my domain!”

• he doesn’t know that women have pussies

• man thinks they all got dicks like him

• he probably has an alarm that goes off every five minutes for an hour and every time it goes off he goes “RISE AND GRIND🔥💪💯”

• his workout routine is just him listening to evanescence while brooding and beating the fuck out of anything in his path

• he punches walls and tables, the place goes through so much damage

• “scissor porn! i demand new walls to punch!”

• poor shiver-me-pickles probably has to replace all the aforementioned walls and tables himself since he’s smart and i don’t think they have a home depot in hueco mundo

• scissor porn and shiver-me-pickles was a reference to mr fancy ocho espada, the pink hostess snoball looking ass (non derogatory)

• i do not know how to say nor spell his name and i’m too lazy to even google it, tis better this way anyways

• but overall, muscle smurf is a menace

GRIMMJOW, TAKE TWO

• grimble joe is back

• i’ve only seen so much of bleach so idk that much about the guy other than he’s really into fighting people and being as neon blue as possible

• i’m sure he’s got a personality deep down under all of those muscles that people love so much

• he probably would have a rise and grind mindset tbh

• he’d wake up and be like “oh yay another day to prove my worth and muscles to my boss!”

• he’s probably insecure tbh

• just a l i t t l e maybe

• he’s a little ball of energy

• he’d just run around las noches like an overactive puppy

• so yea, sorry i don’t know too much about old gimble juice, maybe once i’ve watched more of him in the show i’ll redo his hcs

RIRUKA

• i’ve never seen this woman before until i googled her but that sure as hell isn’t gonna stop me from at least t r y i n g to make hcs for her

• based off of her looks i think she’s a strawberry shortcake stan

• and we love strawberry shortcake in this house

• she seems fashionable so i assume she’d love to go out shopping and such

• looks like she enjoys toast

• i think she’d love monster high

• idk why but i’m getting horror movie fan energy

• probably got really invested into rainbow looms at one point

• probably likes platform heels

• sorry again if these aren’t too accurate, once i’ve seen her in the show i’ll have to redo her hcs too!

[the-firebird69]

We have another report and it's about Tommy f and he is angry at people because he's not being supported at all and they're saying you're absolutely nuts and you're just like Trump and you think we're going to sacrifice ourselves to you or for you it's not the way it's ever been and shut your mouth they say damn it for you. around saying that's not the right attitude he's running around seeing it. So he's a big mouth and he's going to get beat up and his people and they really needed to happen now.

--one of them is in the mall and he has a shirt with what looks like Deadpool and or Spider-Man saying I'll break you that's a big image with big letters trying to face it towards her son. So his willing around trying to find out where he is and people are saying look at his shirt and shut your mouth and he won't.

-+there's another item people are being abused here and these people are very abusive practically the only thing they do we need to take care of the problem it is getting big very big and it's unsightly and rude and disgusting it really is gross and these people are very sick and they're getting sicker and the same stupid things they look like skin and bones

Thor Freya

Olympus

I'm actually very appalled it's disgusting and we need change I don't want him to get stuck here with this mess however they do leave here and right now they're leaving pretty fast. In Charlotte county the the rate is about .02% a day granted people come in and it's not real high but that is not very good man that's from general health it might not be from the event but it is increasing and they're saying that a week ago is like 40,000 people and because of a few days of it and now it's up to 120,000 total and out of four or five million that's a lot of people it's much harder than that percentage maybe that's per hour but no it's it's a high percentage if it's 4 million it would be about 5%, it's about right a little bit lower so that's a lot it's increasing the anticipate to be anywhere from 10 to 20% by the end of the month and that would be per week

--also things are going fairly well in some departments but terrible in others. And I have had my share of ups and downs. Right now I'm on high I know why this fleet is going to be gone two more fleets and it's just the towers and he's going to be out and on a very quick slide and after the 31st the tormenting clones. They'll try to get back and won't be able to and we'll have to do something that's not going to happen I was told until possibly April of next year. And my husband says no and thank you very much if I don't have a car I can't drive you robot around LOL it's not really a robot but I think you very much and I do understand what you're saying Android it's not an Android that's a good one though how about cyborg synthetic human like blade runner no good call though it could be is nearby. That's funny what would you drive either a Pontiac fiero or Tommy f trans Am. And he says no it says I'm used to driving the car it's a safe bet and he says no I don't think so so you should have tommy f it's not your job I can handle it for you. So in essence what he's saying is from the 31st Fords forward forward LOL for about a week that will be dissolving and he will be pummeled and push off because he'll be demanding it the whole time. And Trump doesn't too it's like they pull it behind three cruisers on the highway and homk thirr horn so I can get by

It's really awful everybody hears really stupid I can't tell where anything's coming from.

This is what I'm driving around they usually not doing it and they get pulled off before they get it within a mile of me and they start laughing and said we can't stand this s*** it's not really that complicated so at one point they're going to be pushed off after the 31st and they say two weeks he's going to be hurting and won't have a presence and sure by the end of September will probably try and get him stuff it's going to happen before that too he's going to see the effects he's going to try and use it now

Hera

It would be probably a real fact because I don't want to storm and everybody else doesn't and they're actually fighting it and discovered a couple tricks they're going on and or he might have other things going on but really the real effect will be seen if he's trying to get it here

I'm not really sure how that would work

Zues Hera

It's a matter of what I have to bend or break to do things but you're right it's increasing and that's the difficulty. So it might not be able to see it it might be imperceptible. And it's true too yeah they brought him all the way out to the water then back in to the homeless shelter cuz that area might disappear and it might there's some stuff there but he says it probably was just sit there some of it will it's different in its configuration I understand that so I'm getting to work now I'm starting to figure out something we should see what this is all about in the neighborhood cuz it might be something underneath and really we might get kicked out for you soon and yeah he filed for a FEMA assistance and he qualifies and it's not that bad. It was a storm before this one any flooded and lost money his food it was ruined got a little sick too that's hardship I would add to it but we don't have a category but we do ask questions he had to buy a bunch of pepto and other pills and stayed home so this how it goes we have lot of stuff to do usually at 700 bucks which is not nothing and he needs it to pay bills this credit card he says that's not bad it would help he says this place to a good cause and a purpose and it's true

Tommy f

They're making look like he's not trying to do stuff but we needed to happen and we think it will and it is a stipend it's one of the first at Washington received and it is a small one everyone's been talking about. The other one might come from Debbie because it was a disaster and it did flood here and he can say he just had a problem cuz he keeps going to the store and returning food this is going to happen and making that up is not a big deal and we don't really care what I was sick of these people and nobody knows if the power went out these people are not witnesses in any way. Then pestor him and get beat up

We need this to go out now

Olympus

[letsgetrowdy43]

"Living with you drama queens is like having my own personal reality tv show." with jamie, reader, and trevor plzz!!!<3

The Real Housewives of Anaheim—

That fucking guitar was starting to be the bane of her entire existence. She loved her boys, she really did, with her whole heart, but the moment the guitar was introduced to the picture she loved them a little less. At some point, the argument that revolved around Jamie’s guitar was getting less funny and starting to drive her up the wall.

Jamie had a hard finding a new hobby that could replace hockey for the time being, his shoulder was still killing him, and his lack of passion for anything was hurting his mental stability in other ways, so learning guitar was his answer.

It was nice, or at least she liked it. The gentle strumming that could be heard throughout the house late at night. Their beachside house was always calm when Z had been on roadies, the two quieter roommates gaining some peace as he was thousands of miles away. The other two would find themselves on the roof, he’d sit holding her up against him, her back pressed against his chest as he taught her basic cords, although still an amateur he’d been an amazing teacher.

“Dude enough with the strumming!” Trevor yelled from the kitchen, Jamie was in his room trying to tune his guitar, doing it 'quietly' to keep Trevor off his ass. “I’m sorry, I’m really trying!” He yelled out.

“Stop bullying Jamie,” she sighed from the couch glaring at the man who had returned from his trip less than an hour ago and already had a list of demands and complaints. Trevor looked up from filling up his water bottle, “you’re just taking his side because you're in love with him” “If you keep this attitude up I’m moving out” she frowned and turned her attention back to the movie she was watching. Jamie walked into the living room and sat down next to her, his thigh pressed up against hers as his arms wrapped around her shoulders, “but if you leave who’s gonna stick up for me when Trevor starts being a bitch?”

“Be a man and fight me by yourself!” Jamie groaned into her shoulder as Trevor smirked at the two, “oh yeah hide in your girlfriend’s shoulder, stop being a pussy!” She grumbled and looked over to Trevor who looked at her with a face-off surrender not wanting to feel her wrath.

“Stop being a dickhead, I like the guitar, it’s romantic!” Jamie exclaimed looking up at the shaggy-haired boy who shook his head. “You’re falling for this shit Y/n?" he dryly chuckled motioning to the boy who had clearly been trying to romance her with his guitar-playing skills, "It’s annoying!” he said walking from the kitchen island in front of the couch to look at Jamies who rolled his eyes. “You’re just jealous, maybe if you’d learn the guitar you’d finally find love!” She let out a choked laugh as Z’s jaw dropped, “you really wound me Jimmothy! The guitar is for starters overrated! And the only girl you’re ‘pulling’ is your roommate!”

“You two are children,” she said unimpressed as she stood up from her spot on the couch, prying Jamies face from her neck to go find peace in her bedroom. “You love us don’t lie!”

That’s not where the argument ended.

Later that night Jamie found himself back up on the roof, her next to him as he hummed along to a new song he was trying to figure out

Trevor’s head poked up from the edge of the roof, “I swear to god, start playing again and it’s going into the ocean” “You wouldn’t dare!” A gasp left Jamie’s mouth as he hugged the wooden instrument to his chest. Trevor’s eyes narrowed “I so fucking would,” he said lowly, it was like the two of them thought they were in some action film, living out their dramatic monologue dreams.

“Trevor go away” she shooed him away, but no luck as he pulled himself onto the roof to tease Jamie more. “Play another cord, I dare you, Jimmy” a taunting tone filling Trevor’s voice Jamie’s fingers assumed the position as he gave it a quick strum, Trevor got closer to the couple with a shit-eating grin on his face. “You’ll have to rip it from my bare hands Z,” he spoke coldly, before Trevor could get his hands on the guitar Jamie used it to jab him right in the shin gaining a loud prolonged hiss from him.

“Did you just hit me with it?” Jamie smiled innocently as he held his beloved guitar against his chest, “oh you’re done for” he said trying to tackle the man to get it from his grasp, gaining a few more hits to his legs, evil laughs erupting as the two argued over top of each other.

“Living with you drama queens is like having my own personal reality tv show,” she mumbled as Jamie took another swing with the guitar and hit Trevor right in the knee causing him to fold, the two of them erupting with laughter as the fight ceased.

-

-

-

[theweasleywife]

His Little Secret

Where George Weasley finds himself daydreaming of a young Gryffindor girl. 

(George Weasley x Gryffindor Reader) 

I’m thinking about making this one a series because I think it’s so cute ◡̈ let me know your thoughts!! 🍁🧡

He was in love with her. George could no longer deny the truth- he was truly, madly, deeply in love with Y/N. To him, she was the most beautiful being he’d ever had the honor of setting his eyes upon. Life would never get better than the time spent sneaking glances at her at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he thought to himself. She was the most beautiful woman that he’d ever seen; with long, flowing brown hair, and the brightest blue eyes, she caught the attention of the pureblooded prankster easier than anyone who’d actually tried. He loved that there always seemed to be a blush on her cheeks, too. You’d never have to compliment her or make a crude joke to light her cheeks aflame, they just always were. She seemed to float through the hallways like an angel and everyone loved her- even Snape! He had no clue how she had gotten on the moody professors side, but he could understand why anyone would take a liking to her.

“George, would you snap out of it? We have to get this project done and if you don’t even try I have absolutely no clue how we’ll pass Herbology,” huffed out Angelina. George was shocked out of his romantic trance and back to his least favorite place- the library. He was with Angelina and Fred finishing up a project for Herbology, though the trio seemed to joke around more than they got any work done. Angelina had hit her point with the youngest Weasley twin- even Fred was helping with the group project whilst his brother was in a far off land, daydreaming about Merlin knows what.

“Thinking about the game tonight? Don’t worry, Georgie, it’s only Ravenclaw. They’ve got nothing on us- plus we’ve got Potter on the team now so I doubt Ravenclaw will pack that much of a punch,” bantered Fred. He always knew when something was on his brother's mind but he rarely seemed to know what exactly it was.

“Yeah, you’re right. Ravenclaw never really puts up that much of a fight so I don’t know why I’m fretting about it so much.”

“No big deal, George, but Merlin please at least write your name on the paper so Professor Sprout doesn’t let loose a screaming mandrake when she realizes no ones done their project,” joked Angelina. And that was how the rest of the afternoon was spent- the three wizards writing about the magical powers of exotic seaweed and talking about how Ravenclaw didn’t even stand a chance against the Quidditch lineup of the Gryffindor team.

***

That night, after yet another Gryffindor victory, George laid wide awake in his small bed. Everyone else was already fast asleep but the boy couldn’t seem to stop twisting and turning. He couldn’t get comfortable at all. His bed was warm and his blankets heavy, but his mind was running a hundred miles a minute. One would think he’d be replaying the best game of Quidditch the team had ever played together in his head, but rather Y/N seemed to be taking up more space than the sport.

He wished that he could just march right up to her, confess his undying love, and have her return his sentiments. Better yet, he wished that he could at least utter a word to the girl that wasn’t, “Do you have a spare pen?” He so desperately wished that he had the confidence to talk with her. He hadn’t even properly introduced himself to Y/N in the four years they’d been in school together. At first, he was so caught up in playing pranks with his brother. Every second of every day his full attention was on who their next victim was and what joke he and Fred would play next. Then, he tried out for Quidditch and Oliver Wood demanded so much of the team. Up at dawn- quidditch, then classes, then lunch (where inevitably a prank was pulled on someone unsuspecting), then more classes, then dinner, and then yet another Quidditch practice, and then bed- down at dusk. And now, in his fourth year, he had finally figured out how to balance everything on his plate so he could sneak in some more free time here and there.

That’s when his eyes were opened to the treasure that had been in front of him all of this time. He can’t believe he never noticed the girl that sat right behind him in all of his classes. She was as quiet and shy as a mouse and never spoke that much during instruction. But this year, she seemed to have also found her footing, and her hand was raised every time the professor asked a question. And true to fashion, of course she got every answer right. He admired her intelligence and wit, how she was such a lovable person, and how she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. In the two months they’d been back at Hogwarts and since he noticed Y/N, he’d absorbed everything he could about her and felt confident saying that, even though she probably had no clue who he was, he was wrapped around her finger.

He didn’t want anyone to know how much he adored the young Gryffindor girl, yet. He didn’t want to risk all the teasing and jokes that would be thrown and his way- and hers for that matter. Quite uncharacteristic for the jokester, but this was love. It was the first time he had felt something so strongly and deeply and he determined that, for now, this was not a laughing matter. The jokes would only be funny to him when he could hold your hand and say, “I love you.”  So, until that time came, this would be his little secret.

George Weasley thought about the girl well into the early hours of the morning- contemplating her intelligence and beauty; imagining what life would be like if he ever gained the courage to speak to the young Gryffindor girl who, just like George, lay fast awake in the Gryffindor tower thinking about a certain red-headed boy.

He decided that night that she was the love of his life. She just didn’t know it yet.

Part 2: ‘Her Little Secret’

[thesnowygalaxy]

altum mille

pairing: song mingi x reader

summary: you sit next to mingi on a flight back to south korea. you flirt with each other and then he corners you in the airplane bathroom. 

warnings: smut! pwp, idol!au, dom!mingi, sub!reader, no actual penetration, mingi has a big dick, making out in an airplane bathroom, thigh riding, dry humping, fingering, hair tugging, blowjob, deep throating, cum eating, slight size kink, slight voyeurism kink, slight choking kink, semi-public sex, sexual name-calling

word count: 2.1K words

author’s note: well i accidentally deleted this when i was trying to update the tags so fucking kill me!! @sansbun​ and @seongsangi​ i thought i’d tag the two of you with this if you haven’t seen it already! the italics mean that you’re speaking in english. altum mille is latin for mile-high (mile-high club? get it?) lol i’m not funny but again let me know if i’ve made any grammar errors!!

“Oh wow!” You gasp softly in English, watching the tall man sit next to you. “I know you!”

His eyes flick to you with a grin on his face. “H-Hello! How- how are… you?” He asks in sight broken English.

“Oh, I can speak Korean!” You smile back at him. “I didn’t think I’d be on the same flight as Ateez! Wow, you’re so much more handsome in real life!”

He laughs softly, putting his bag under the seat in front of him, sitting down next to you. “Are you an Atiny?”

“Yes, of course! Did you guys just come from your tour in America?”

He nods, smiling at your enthusiasm.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you must be tired!” You shake your head, trying to contain your inner fangirl.

“No, no, it’s okay! It’s really nice to see our fans, especially when they’re as attractive as you!” He smirks, making your cheeks flush slightly.

“T-thanks!” You squeak out, fidgeting slightly in your seat.

“Well, tell me about you, sweetheart!” He demands softly, turning to you, his full attention on you. “What’s your name?”

Your cheeks turn a deeper red, responding with your name. You’re surprised at his interest in you as you engage into a soft conversation with him, but happy nonetheless.

~*~

Four hours into the flight, you decide that you need to get away from the handsome man sitting next to you, so you would stop fantasizing and staring at him.

You tap his shoulder, waiting until he pulls out an earbud. “Hey, Mingi, I have to go to the bathroom, do you mind?” You ask softly, biting at your bottom lip slightly as he tilts his head.

He nods with a grin, standing up from his seat to let you pass, but not moving into the aisle. You turn your body horizontal, your front facing him as you slide by him, looking up at his face with pink cheeks. He looks down at you with a dark look in his eyes, somehow making you feel incredibly small as a soft gasp escapes you. Your cheeks flush deeply as you look down, feeling your panties soak as you slip past him in a hurry and rush to the bathroom.

holyshitholyshitholyshit- You let out a deep sigh as you lock the bathroom behind you, thinking to yourself. “Holy fuck, how the hell is he so attractive?!” You smack your head against your hand, shaking your head. “And he’s flirting with me? Why am I so goddamn turned on?!” You turn on the sink, splashing your face with water as you inhale deeply. “Oh my god, why am I thinking with my dick?” You groan, looking at yourself in the tiny mirror as you dab the water off. “It’s fine! It’s fine.” You exclaim softly, shaking your head. “It’s not like anything will happen.”

You move to unlock the door, pushing it open and looking down at your feet as you move to step out of the plane bathroom, before gasping as you feel hands place at your shoulders, pushing you back into the small bathroom.

“M-Mingi?” You inhale sharply, the tall man reaching behind him to lock the door. “W-What-”

Both of his hands move to cup your cheeks as his lips slam into yours, a muffled gasp escaping you as he pulls you into a heated kiss.

Song Mingi was kissing you in the bathroom of a plane. Holy shit-

Your hands move up to his, covering his as your eyes flutter close. You hesitantly kiss back, savoring his soft lips against yours. His hands move away from your cheeks, grasping your wrists and pushing them against the wall. You let out a soft mewl as his body presses against yours, pushing you against the wall of the cramped bathroom.

His tongue slips past your lips, his leg moving in between yours as he licks into your mouth. You whimper, your tongue pressing against his as his kiss dominates you.

You tilt your head back, drawing back for air. His lips part from yours, a slight string of saliva connecting the two of you as you inhale needed air.

“Hi there.” He murmurs, his hands letting go of your wrists and moving down to your waist, pulling you to him.

“What-” You pant softly with heavily red cheeks, your brain flooded with emotions. “Mm-”

“That’s a cute noise.” He chuckles, his lips hovering over yours.

“M-Mingi-” You gasp softly, fidgeting in his hold. “Here?”

Mingi grins, brushing his lips against yours. “You’re too attractive to wait until we land.”

You laugh loudly, leaning back slightly. “Thank you, but I am not fucking you in a tiny ass airplane bathroom.”

He pulls you into another deep kiss, seemingly ignoring your words. You mewl softly, your arms wrapping around his neck and pressing yourself against him as you kiss him passionately, melting against his lips.

His hands hold your waist tightly, his leg in between yours. You let out a sigh, loving the feeling of his soft lips against yours. He presses his body forward, his tough contours fitting your curves perfectly.

He nips at your bottom lip, before running his tongue along it. You open your mouth in obedience, a soft sigh escaping you as his tongue slips into your mouth and runs along the roof of your mouth.

One of your hands move to his hair, running through the soft tresses. He let out a grunt as you tug on his strands, his hands pulling your hips down and on his lower thigh. You mewl, the friction against your clothed clit pleasurable to you.

You slowly grind yourself down on his lower thigh, a soft whimper escaping you at the pleasure. He pulls back from you, his hands forcing your hips down as his tongue flicks out. You let out a whine, your hands clutching as his collar. One of his hands moves to your throat, tightening slightly as he presses a kiss to your jaw.

“Now, I’ve only known you for less than four hours, so no, I’m not going to fuck you in the airplane bathroom.” He chuckles, one hand on your throat, the other traveling down your body. “However…”

You gasp out as his hand slips into your pants, rubbing at your pussy through your underwear.

“Mingi!” You whimper, your hands on the wall behind you. His hand moves up from your throat to your mouth, muffling your moans.

“Gotta keep quiet, little girl.” He mutters by your ear, rubbing your clit as he licks up the curve of your ear.

You let out a needy whine, his hand moving back and then into your underwear, the heel of his hand pressing against your clit as one of his long fingers slips inside you.

“Fuck, babygirl, you’re dripping.” He rasps, flicking his finger in and out of you. You moan against his hand, your hands moving up to clutch at his clothes as he thrusts his finger in and out of you. You could feel your liquids dripping down your thighs, your hips bucking up to meet his hand.

“You want this, don’t you?” He hisses in your ear, adding another finger. “Little whore.”

You gasp against his hand, tugging on his shirt as you clench against his fingers, your head fuzzy as you feel your orgasm coming on.

“I can feel you tightening around my fingers, you’re going to come, aren’t you?” He grunts, adding another finger.

You keen, shaking your head ‘yes’ as you look up at him with tears in your eyes.

“Words.” He growls softly, his fingers stopping inside you as his hand moves away from your mouth. You whimper at the sudden loss of pleasure, your nails digging into his clothes.

“Wanna cum, pleaseeeeee!” You beg softly, tears slipping down your cheeks as you look up at him.

“Then come, babygirl.” He grins, curling his fingers in you, pressing against your g-spot.

Your eyes roll back as you gasp out, your nails digging into his clothes as you come against his fingers. His hand moves to your cheek, watching your facial expression with wide eyes as you orgasm.

You pant heavily as his fingers pull out of you and out of your pants, dripping in your liquid ambrosia. He brings his hand up to his mouth, licking the sticky liquid off his fingers. You come down from your high, looking up at him with hooded eyes.

He brings his saliva and cum covered fingers to your lips, making you obediently open your mouth as he places his fingers on your tongue. You wrap your mouth around his fingers, sucking the liquid from it.

“Good girl.” He mutters, his other hand at your waist.

You give him a shy smile as he takes his fingers out of your mouth, grabbing a paper towel to wipe his fingers off.

You glance down, your eyes widening at the bulge in his pants. You look back up to Mingi, your hands moving to his waist and pushing him back onto the lid of the toilet seat.

“Baby, what are you-” He starts as he falls back on top of the toilet cover, before dropping to your knees in front of him.

“Let me take care of you.” You give him a shy smile, unbuckling his belt and pulling down his pants and boxers to gain access to his hard cock.

Your eyes widen at how big he was, which wasn’t anything you expected. You grab it with one hand, a hiss escaping him as you stare at his hard member with amazement.

“Oh fuck, babygirl.” He rasps, watching you move forward to kiss the tip, stroking his hard penis. You lick at the bubble of precum, sucking at the head. You continue to move your hand up and down, moving your head to lick the underside of his dick, before kitten-licking at his top.

“Don’t tease, babygirl.” He snarls, one hand moving to your hair and tugging a little harshly. You let out a moan at the sudden pain, looking up at him with a soft pout on your lips. He loosens his grip, letting you move back down and close your lips around his tip.

He lets out a breathy sigh, watching you move down on his cock and try to take in all you could before choking. His hand entwines in your hair, the other running a hand through his matted hair.

You whimper against his cock as he bucks his hips up, choking as he hits the back of your throat. Tears well up in your eyes, your nails digging into his pants.

“Oh, you take me so well.” He growls, his head thrown back as he thrusts into your mouth. Tears fall down your cheeks, gagging at his thickness.

“Fuck, babygirl.” He groans, his eyes closing as he tugs on your hair. “I’m… fuck, I’m going to come.”

You moan, the vibration against his member bringing him over the edge as he let out a choked grunt, cumming into your mouth. Once he finishes cumming, he pulls your head back, watching your ruined expression as a small drop of his cum drips down your chin.

“Swallow.” He demands, one hand moving to your cheek.

You swallow the salty cream, your thumb going up to brush the remainder off your lips and push it into your mouth, sucking it from your thumb.

“Good girl.” He smirks, his thumb stroking your cheek.

“You really are as much of a dom as everyone thinks.” You giggle, moving to grab some toilet paper to clean off his now flaccid dick.

“Really?” He chuckles, watching you clean him off before tucking him back into his boxers, pulling up his pants and buckling his belt. “The fans think that?”

“Uh huh.” You nod, giving him a shy smile, standing up.

One of his hands reaches out to your waist, pulling you to him. A gasp escapes you as you fall on top of him, giggling softly. He grins, pulling you up and adjusting you on his lap.

You wrap your arms around his neck, smiling happily.

“Do you have your phone?” He asks, making you nod and reaching into your back pocket to pull it out and unlock it, handing it to him.

He finds your contacts, adding himself into your contacts and handing it back to you. “Message me when you get off, pretty thing.”

You nod, a giddy smile on your face.

~*~

BONUS

“They fucked.” San hums to Yeosang, watching Mingi walk back to them.

“Wait until she comes out.” Yeosang grins, holding his hand up with his pointer finger up.

“How- his hair is obviously messed up!” San huffs, his hands motioning to Mingi.

“Shhhh, wait ‘til she walks out.” Yeosang moves closer to San, trying to peek out and check the aisle as Mingi takes his seat, staring at the two men with a confused look.

You come into view of the two men, your cheeks slightly flushed as you walk to your seat next to Mingi.

“They fucked.” Yeosang nods, a grin on his face.

“They so fucked.” San laughs.

[beetlebitchywitch]

Could you write something about a super bratty reader falling apart mid punishment with beej after trying to gain the upper hand and just begging him to ruin them?

(This has been sitting in my drafts for WAY too long, I’m sorry for the delay, my love! ALSO I’ve been meaning to write incubus!beej for a L O N G time so we’re just gonna indulge my fantasies for a moment)

“Count them, baby girl.”

You were floating. Entirely weightless in a sea of sharp pain and warm pleasure, your body trembled and squirmed and ached for him. With each strike of his tail against your ass, you managed to count in a choked off whisper, the pain only serving to send you closer and closer to oblivion.

“Sorry, what was that? Couldn’t hear ya, snack.”

You struggled, but you managed to count louder. Wisps of his voice curled around your ear like warm smoke. You wish you could see him, touch him, but your wrists were bound together in front of you and your eyes were hidden securely beneath a velvety blindfold. There was no escape from the punishment you so rightfully earned…

“Sweetness, what’dya think you’re doing?” Beetlejuice asked slowly, his voice dripping with a saccharine sarcasm. It was clearly a warning, so obviously meant to threaten you back into submission, but you stared defiantly back at him, quirking an eyebrow and shooting him a smirk, making it entirely clear that you knew exactly what you were getting yourself into.

“Nothing, Beej,” you countered innocently, “why, what does it look like I’m doing?”

He stared down at where you laid at his side, curled into his chest as he was trying to enjoy your favorite horror movie. Weirdly enough, he actually liked some of the movies you watched, especially this one, the black-and-white old school horror reminding him of the old days, a time where you were barely a twinkle in your father’s eye. And he was enjoying it, of course, until he felt you shifting rhythmically, your thighs flexing not-so-innocently and your grip on his shirt tightening. The honeyed scent of your arousal made his nostrils flare, a soft growl rumbling in his chest.

“I don’t need to look to know what you’re up to, snack,” he retorted. “Any incubus within 100 miles could smell the lust you’re givin’ off, especially if you keep rubbing your thighs together like that. What did I tell you about touchin’ yourself?” He dug his clawed fingers into your thigh, the sharp pinpricks warning you to watch what you said next.

“Aww, is someone grumpy cause he’s hungry?” you cooed condescendingly at him, moaning quietly as you flexed your muscles just right and sent a shot of pleasure to your core. Clearly, whatever warning he was giving you would not be heeded. “Would it make you feel better if I let you watch?”

Well. Now you’d really done it.

Within half a second you were pinned to the couch, your hands restrained on either side of your head by a very angry demon. He forced your thighs apart with his leg in order to keep you from disobeying him further.

“Do you think that’s funny, morsel?” he snarled, “Because I’m not fuckin’ laughing.”

“Beej…”

“Don’t you ‘Beej’ me,” he spat, tangling his right hand in your hair and tugging harshly. His hair was a gorgeous mix of magenta and crimson, lust and rage in a perfect combination that you knew would lead to the night of your life. “You know the rules around here, and you know I’m the one that sets ‘em. Do you know what happens to little sluts who break the rules?”

When you didn’t answer, he yanked your hair even harder, pulling a pitiful whimper from your throat.

“Do you?”

“They get punished…”

“Yeah, they do,” he said. “At least you got one thing right tonight. Get that sorry ass upstairs now, and if your clothes aren’t on the floor by the time I get up there you’re gonna wish you were never born.”

…and so here you were. Bound, trembling, so deep in your submission that you couldn’t even beg for more as you pressed your face into the mattress. But he knew, of course. He always knew. He could smell it on you, the desire, and it only made him whip you harder. You heard a satisfied laugh break through the haze of pleasure surrounding you.

“You haven’t gotten a full number out since 15, snack,” he chuckled. “Maybe tellin’ you to count was a little harsh of me. I think you’ve learned your lesson, haven’t you?”

“N-no!” you croaked abruptly. Silence. Clearly, you’d caught him off-guard.

“No?” he asked, confusion tinging his voice. “You tellin’ me you still wanna act out?”

“No…I just…ruin me…” you whispered. More silence. And then…laughter. Barking, incessant laughter.

“Ohhhhh babycakes, you better run that by me one more time. And think long and hard about what you’re askin’ for,” he chuckled. Really, his heart was swelling with pride. That’s his girl, his pet breather, brought to the edge and begging to be shoved off. You’d come so far, and he couldn’t be prouder. And of course, the sight of you, bound and at his mercy and begging him to ruin you only made his cock grow harder in his pants.

“Please,” you begged, finally getting your voice back as your desire took control. “Ruin me. I mean it, ruin me completely. I don’t want to be able to walk, or speak, or think, just ruin me.”

You continued to mumble your pleas as you heard a purr rumble through Beej’s chest. You could guess that he was running his fingers through his hair, letting the weight of your words hang heavy in his mind. Ruin me, you asked.

“What can I say, Y/N?” he asked softly, letting his clawed fingers trail up the back of your leg. “What else can I do when my precious little feeder begs me all nice and pretty?”

He flipped you suddenly onto your back, your bound wrists resting between your breasts as he wrenched your thighs open. He took a deep breath from between your legs, greedily inhaling and groaning at the scent of spice and sugar practically swallowing him up.

“Mmmm, that really got you goin’, didn’t it, slut?” he crooned, letting his tongue dip into you to every so slightly taste you. “But I bet I can get you wetter.”

You heard the whistle of his tail whipping through the air before you felt it. You screamed harshly as he left welt after welt on your inner thighs, each angry red stripe only egging him on further. You were bruised, soaked with sweat, your pussy nearly dripping, and yet you had the audacity to beg and scream and moan for more. By the time he pulled away to admire his handiwork, you’d cum twice from the lightest of touches to your clit along with his merciless whipping, leaving your thighs slick and burning. You couldn’t stop trembling if you tried, your head lolled back as if you were about to pass out.

“You doin’ alright there, morsel? You know what to do if it’s too much,” he asked, the tips of his hair turning the slightest bit white with worry. All you knew to do was to spread your legs wider, the idea of safewording so far out of your mind that the thought of it seemed silly.

“Fuck me,” you said, your voice hoarse after all the screaming. A beat, and then the blindfold was ripped from your face, Beej’s eyes burning red as they met yours.

“Beg,” he said simply, letting two fingers tease at your entrance before sliding them in and scissoring them roughly. You moaned, arching your back off the bed while still holding his gaze, your defiant spirit momentarily reignited.

“Fuck me,” you demanded. “I asked you to ruin me, if I can still talk it’s not good enough!”

Slap. You gritted your teeth through your scream as he brought his hand down on your inner thigh, aggravating the fresh welts he’d left just minutes ago.

“Goddammit, snack, just put in all that effort to teach you a lesson and you’re already forgettin’ it,” he said condescendingly, continuing to fuck you with his fingers. “Tell me, who the fuck is in charge here?”

“Y-you are,” you moaned, his fingers curling so perfectly inside you.

“Damn straight I am,” he growled, leaning down to nibble and suck at your breasts. “You know, this attitude of yours is really starting to piss me off. Next time you talk back, I’m gonna strap a vibrator to you and head down to the Netherworld until I’m in a better mood, understand?”

Just the thought of being left tied up with a vibrator pulling endless orgasms out of you sent a shiver through you. Another day, you thought, but today you were simply too desperate for Beetlejuice, so you nodded silently.

“Good girl,” he said, pulling his fingers out of you despite your protesting groan. He chuckled as he undressed, his cock bobbing against his stomach. You were practically salivating at this point, unable to stop staring at him. “You still want me to fuck you, sweetness?”

“Y-yes, Beej, I need-”

“Sorry, what was that? Can’t quite hear you,” he teased. God, you wanted to smack that smirk off his face, but you were too desperate for him to disobey.

“Please, Beej, Jesus Christ, I need you so fucking bad. I won’t talk back again, I promise, just-”

Heaven. Absolute sublime pleasure. You threw your had back, your words interrupted as he slid into you with one firm thrust, his thumbs mercilessly playing with your nipples. He grinned wickedly down at you, his tail slithering up your body to wrap firmly around you throat.

“Mm, so tight for me, snack,” he groaned, giving you a few good thrusts. “Don’t hold back for me now, alright? I intend to have my cake and eat it too.”

“T-that doesn’t even make se-oh fuck Beej, yes,” you groaned, his thrusts picking up in speed and intensity. His tail was tightening around your throat, your moans coming out all croaky and fucking God if it didn’t make Beetlejuice fuck you even harder. He wrapped his arms around your back, cradling you close as he fucked into you.

“Does that feel good, babycakes?” he groaned, leaning down to kiss you roughly. He smiled as you nodded, angling his thrusts to perfectly hit that spot inside you that made you see stars. “Look at you, feedin’ me so well. You gonna cum for me?”

You wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from cumming if you even tried, you realized, as he let one hand trail down your body to start rubbing your clit. You whimpered, the sound choked off by his tail constricting your airway. You nodded quickly, feeling yourself tense up as the pleasure was swiftly approaching.

“That’s it, snack, cum for me, scream for me-”

And scream you did. As much as you could, anyway, with your head swimming in the pleasure and lack of oxygen as your orgasm took you away, your entire body convulsing in Beej’s arms. He fucked you through it, and through two more after that, whispering filthy nothings into your ear before finally cumming himself, filling you exquisitely. He finally unwrapped his tail from around your throat and you instinctively took a deep breath, sprawled out on the mattress with the head rush it brought. Your ass and thighs burned, your chest heaved with your breathing, your pussy was sore and dripping cum, and your head was spinning, and Jesus Christ it was glorious.

Beej cradled you tenderly in his arms, letting you shake and pant through your afterglow. He pressed sweet kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, until finally, you opened your eyes and met his gaze.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, babes,” he joked, sweeping a strand of hair out of your face. “Didn’t get a glimpse of the Netherworld, did ya?” You giggled, leaning up to kiss him sweetly.

“Not quite my time, I think,” you replied shakily. “Though that’s about as close as I’ve come to death. What a way to go, right?”

“Baby, if I had to do it all over again, I’d definitely love to be fucked to death by you,” he chuckled. “Really, though, how are you feelin’? I’ve never given you a punishment that intense before.”

“Oh please, I deserved it,” you admitted. “Besides, I asked you to ruin me, didn’t I? I’d say you succeeded. Went above and beyond the call of duty, even!”

“Alright, you little shit, come ‘ere,” he laughed, pulling your firmly into his side. “Get some rest. You’ve earned it.”

And as you slipped into unconsciousness, you could only smile mischievously.

Wonder how I could rile him up tomorrow...

Ugh I lovely writing this, please send some incubus!beej requests!

[ussjellyfish]

hold to the now, the here | pt 12 | philinda | AoS | teen

And they have the baby! (really quite proud of this one)

read on Ao3

With the four of them circling around her like a flight formation, at least she doesn't have to talk. Bobbi's been off with (and without) Hunter doing their own thing for more than a year so she has stories, and Daisy spent some time in South America with Mack and Elena, so she has her own things to say. For once, Phil's as quiet as she is, wrapped up in worrying about timing and intensity. They walk in a loop, through the hallway, then the great room, past the gym, the bathroom, the kitchen and the other halls that lead to the landing bays. The compound's half-into the hill, half-hidden in the ancient village of brick and beams. It's peaceful, not a forgotten place, but a patient one. 

They laugh around her and she missed the story. Bobbi is funny, she's so easily funny, but she listens too. Melinda doesn't have to ask them to stop, they just pause when she puts her hands on the wall and that tightening roars back like g-force. There's a sharpness to it that was absent before, an urgency that creeps over her. Phil's hand strokes the back of her neck and Bobbi's strong hands trade out for Daisy's.

"Harder is better," Jemma reminds her. "Too light and you'll just annoy her."

Melinda's half-tempted to ask Daisy just to vibrate her spine back into place but that's probably not what she really wants. Daisy presses a little harder and she sighs. "Good."

"Okay." She can't see her, but Melinda can picture Daisy's little smile. This is hard for her, for all of them, and this is just the start. 

Or the middle.

Phil holds her cheek, smiling. He brushes damp hair off her forehead and looks up at the women around them. "Help me pull her hair back." 

Jemma pulls something from her pocket and Phil's hands slip over her hair, pulling it back. When did she start to get sweaty? How did she miss that? It's cooler near the training rooms, and they walk around the sparring room, bare feet sticking to the mats. They stop along the mirror, hands on the bar. She glances up long enough to register the strangeness of her own reflection. Her body's been through so much, given blood to save the world, been tossed, smashed, dropped; impaled...now she has to do this too. 

Her breath catches and even Daisy's hands don't ease this wave of pain. It creeps up and outward and she shuts her eyes, letting the light go. 

Phil whispers, then kisses her cheek. She turns from the bar to him, hands on his shoulders. 

"What do you think? This is it?" 

"Are you asking if it hurts yet?"

"I was trying to be less direct."

She leans in, resting her forehead on his shoulder. "Are we ready?"

"This is the easy part."

She laughs, then moans. It creeps up and out, hot and demanding. 

"It's okay. Breathe."

She is, isn't she? Something pops, gushes, and her legs are wet and it puddles around her feet, warm and wet. There's no real smell to it and Jemma checks, because she's always checking. The pop took some of the pressure but it changes, her muscles twist and that sudden rise in pain: that's what she expected. 

They rush around her, worrying about the floor and her feet and her clothes and Jemma wants to check internally and that's really not--

"Hey," Phil draws her attention and holds it. "I know there's a lot happening, just stay with me." 

She has to swallow before words form in her throat. "My water broke."

"And that's good." 

"Easy for you to say."

Phil laughs but there's a little wince to it. Good, he should feel bad. It's the least he can do.

"Drink this." Daisy holds up a straw and she's got that little fretting look too. Bobbi at least has a better poker face. Where did she and Simmons disappear to? 

She holds the water in her mouth, forcing herself to swallow just so she can bite her lip. Daisy steps back, her expression all soft. Concern shines in her dark eyes and she doesn't know how to take that away. 

Hissing through the end of it, Melinda takes a breath. "It's all right, Daisy."

"Yeah?" 

"You've said that about being stabbed and breaking your own wrist."

"I never broke it."

"Sounded broken."

Chuckling a little, Melinda leans back against the wall, shutting her eyes. She might have a whole minute before the next contraction. "Pain isn't a problem, Daisy."

"Okay."

"I'm okay." 

Daisy rolls her eyes. "You'd say that." 

"She would." Phil strokes her hair, smiling. "And it's all right, just trust her." 

Maybe Daisy can trust him. He knows how she is, how this is, how pain is just part of the process. Something you burn through like the clouds. 

Bobbi and Jemma return, talking. Fitz went somewhere, got something. Pain rises again, threatening her senses, and the universe closes in. This demands her attention, her focus, most of her strength-- 

He's still there. Phil has his hands on her hips, keeping her steady. He meets her eyes, whispers, reminds her to breathe. Focus. She's somewhere between fighting and surrender and neither of them seems to work because pain rises, demands, burns, and then returns. It would almost be easier if it was constant. She could force that down. 

Maybe he understands. His hands run up her sides, then rest on her hips, warm and strong. He's not frightened, and his gaze is clear. 

"Breathe," he insists. "You're all right."

There aren't words for this. She grabs his arms, because he's stable, strong. He's here. They're doing this together, bringing this baby into the world together. They made her together, so this is right. She can usually control this- herself- better. Broken ribs, puncture wounds, glass and gunshots and knives-- This is nothing. It's just shifting, changing.

"When you're ready, we're going to the bedroom." 

That means walking between, using the time. 

"I can give you something, take the edge off--" Jemma's trying to help but that's not it. That's not--

"No."

"It's an option."

"She knows," Phil says for her. He rests his thumb on her cheek, holding her gaze. "They make her too foggy."

"We're not in any danger here. We've been very careful."

"I--" Melinda starts to speak on her own, but she's lost another minute. Instead of creeping, this time it crashes over her, hot, insistent, like a sandstorm on the windscreen. 

"You'd defend us in an instant," he teases, pulling her closer. "Hopefully you won't have to." 

That was the point of getting so far away, being so far off the grid that they're miles from the nearest village, alone in the snow. There's nothing to see above them, no one looking for them, no one left to fight. 

It would almost be easier if she had to hold a gun, stare someone down, disarm an enemy-- 

Her back aches, lightning quick, sharp. The baby squirms, her feet nudging against her ribs. It doesn't hurt her. She's heard it prepares her for breathing, for the world outside. Melinda tries to imagine her face, what she'll look like; how she'll echo Phil and her parents.  She hides her face in Phil's chest, panting against the damp fabric of his shirt. He takes a step closer, holding her up. 

Wait it out. Breathe. Stay standing. Fight. Let go. Surrender. Curl up in a ball and scream. It's not that bad and then as if she's tested it, it is. It's sharp and rough and her belly contracts down so hard her fingertips tingle in Phil's shirt. 

"I love you," he whispers, soft in her ear. He's a light, warm above the clouds. Focus- fuck- getting shot is easier.

"I'd rather be shot."

"I know." He breathes with her, guiding her up. "This is worth it. She's going to be beautiful."

She hasn't opened her eyes in awhile, hasn't needed to see. 

Phil shifts back, kissing her cheek. "I have to go, just for second I'll be right back. I want you to hang on to Bobbi, all right?"

Fear surges up almost as sharp as a contraction itself, but that she can shove down, force away. 

"Daisy and Jemma are right here," Bobbi says, warm, calm. 

He's not leaving. He must have to eat or use the bathroom. He's human. They are. How long has it been? Has she looked at a clock or thought about time or food or--

She doesn't mean to make a sound, hissing makes Daisy tense, and Jemma's going to ask again about painkillers because she wants to help. Bobbi's just as sturdy as Phil, holding her up even though her fingers must be like claws. She's not him. The smell's all different and she hasn't covered Bobbi's shirt in sweat. 

They talk, but she doesn't hear, doesn't look. Daisy's face is so concerned, so worried that it fills her mind once she closes her eyes. 

"She doesn't have to suffer through it," Jemma says, sweet Jemma wants to fix everything. 

"It's not-" Can Bobbi even hear her? She'll get it, she has to get it. Her legs shake. When did they get so unsteady? 

"Sometimes you just have to go through." Bobbi gets it. She holds her tighter, making up for the trembling. 

"Why is she shaking?"

"It's normal." 

"Normal?" 

She doesn't mean to cry out. She can fold things away, compartmentalize. That's her job, it's what she does.

Not this. 

Fuck,

Her throat aches from silence, and it's funny how anything can sting through the fog of the rest of it. Fighting makes it harder, but Bobbi's not Phil. She moans, but it sharpens into a cry. She wasn't going to--

"Hey." He takes her elbow, sharing her weight with Bobbi. "Sorry."

"Do you want to?"

And then he picks her up. "We're going to the bed."

Does that mean they're almost done? Jemma's talking again and she can't focus. There's not an end, it's just going to have to hurt, and that's all there is. 

Phil sets her down on the bed, guiding her knees up. Some burns through, beyond the pain and the way her teeth won't stop chattering. Pressure. Something hard. She needs to, how does she--

"Okay, you get behind her, hold her up." 

He slips behind her, holding her between his knees. He guides her hands, helping her remember how they work. She's not cold anymore. 

"Phil--"

"You're almost there." He holds her tight, warm, sticky with her sweat, perhaps his own. "She'll be here soon."

She. 

"Where'd you--?" 

Then it clicks. "You smell like coffee."

"It's been a long--" he stops, and she dooesn't have to kill him. Phil kisses her hair. "You don't have to be strong for them."

Jemma's between her legs, Daisy holds the flashlight behind her head and Phil and Bobbi guide her shirt over her head. Phil tosses his aside as well and her back presses against his chest. 

Daisy's a little pale, and it smells faintly of blood. Hers. 

"Phil-" What is that sensation? Why does she want to grit her teeth? "What's-" 

He chuckles, squeezing her fingers. "You're going to push. I'm going to help you."

Finally she gets to do something. 

"Wait for the contraction, it's most effective if you work with your body." 

Waiting is hell. The pressure growing between her thighs has a bite to it: a burning. Pushing will help. It has to help. 

She cries out, with contraction. Damn things keep finding new levels. 

Daisy rubs her knee. "You're so close. Jemma can see her."

"Push."

What do they..? What muscles is that? What muscles does she even have control of anymore? Phil helps her sit up, murmurs into her neck, then she finds it. That sensation builds, crests, and then she's panting in the space between, collapsing against Phil. 

"That was excellent. Of course you're good at this. Wait, catch your breath, then you'll push again." 

"Did you think about names?"

What needs a name? 

"She wanted to see what she looked like first." 

Bobby takes her hand, smiling. "That seems like a good idea. Daisy has to forge her birth certificate anyway, so you have time."

"Take her other hand, help her lean forward," Jemma says to Daisy, then touches her thigh with her gloved hands. "Okay, use their hands, think about pulling yourself up and push with the contraction, you're almost there." 

Pressure stings, burning, and she sits up to push almost before the contraction even starts. Get it over with. 

"Wait."

"Fuck."

Daisy smirks, trying not to laugh. 

"Listen to Jemma."

"No, Phil, fuck--" 

He holds her tighter, hands on her thighs. "You don't want to tear, give it a minute."

"You can't push with this one."

She'd trade this desperate itching to take the pain back. She needs to push, the baby's right there. She growls, trying not to ignore all of them and just push because she has to push.

"Wait."

The burning grows as the contraction recedes. Jemma dovers it, something soft in her hands and it's not as bad. 

"Her head's right here so you need to let your body stretch around her. Find a way to focus, wait it out, next contraction you can push." 

She dreaded this fucking things a heartbeat ago and know she can't wait. Can't she just push now and get it over with? 

"Phil--"

"Wait for the contraction, let it work with you. I know you're the most patient person alive."

"No."

"Wait, Melinda, you can wait."

"I--"

Go with it. She gasps, breathing in like she's drowning. Hasn't she been lost? Bearing down, she tightens everything she has, shutting her eyes. 

Something slips. It's wet, she's wet and panting again. 

"I've got her head."

Daisy's eyes flash white. "Holy fuck."

"WAit--"

She's waited enough, Biting her lip, she pushes, ignoring them all because she can feel her. She's so close.

And then she's there. Jemma sets a wet, squirming, tiny creature on her chest and she wraps her arms around her. Phil guides her, his hands over hers. 

"There she is." 

She turns to him, trying to see his face, His tears join the sweat on her neck. Bobbi drops a blanket on top of the baby, brushing her cheek clean. The baby squaks, surprised by the air around her. 

"Hello little one."

Jemma sists back, tears in her eyes. "We'll give her a minute then you can cut the cord, Dad." 

Daisy mouths the word and grins, wiping her face. "She's so squishy."

And red and smooth and soft and her dark hair's stuck to her head.  The baby settles, flailing her arms before she sighs and the universe fits in her confused little eyes. 

"This is your dad." Melinda moves his hand, resting it on their daughter's tiny chest. "He's been waiting for you."

"Because your mom isn't actually good at waiting." 

"We waited enough." Her throat aches, raw like hr heart. "I see you."

"Oh she's more you, please."

Melinda sits up a little, trying to get more of the baby in the light. Her tiny arms are soft, so soft, and chubby. 

"When you're ready, mum, dad, I'd like to weigh her, but there's no rush." Jemma presses the sharp pair of shears into Phil's hands. "I've claimed the cord so you'll just need to cut it right here and she'll be free."

"The curfew starts now then," Daisy teases. "Look out, Baby Agent, mom's pretty strict." 

"Daisy-"

"She's beautiful."

Phil takes the baby, holding her so Melinda can hug Daisy tight, forgetting all about being naked and covered in mess, because it doesn't matter. Not now, maybe later she'll care, but it's hard to imagine that's important. The baby's important, family, her family, their family-- She came into so much love.

"I'm going to go tell Fitz."

"I'll weigh her when mom and dad here are ready."

How are they supposed to let her go? 

Phil passes her back, cradling her head. "She's perfect." 

"She's ours."

"Perfect is from you." 

She rolls her eyes and kisses the baby's head. "You can weigh her, Bobbi."

"Come here sweetheart." 

Phil leans back against the headboard, holding Melinda against his chest. They watch the baby's tiny feet kick in the blanket as the scale beeps. "I love you."

She takes the towel from Daisy, turning to look at his face before the baby comes back and she's all distracted. "This had to be with you," she says, too softly for anyone else to hear. "She needed to be ours."

"Yeah."

"I love you." She kisses him, crying into his cheek, resting her forehead on his. "Thank you."

"Melinda--"

"Shhhh."

And then she back, all soft and tiny. Her eyes are open now, wide and unfocused. "You have a great dad."

"You're mother's a superhero."

The baby wraps her fingers around Phil's finger. Her fingers can't possibly be that small, and they are. 

"We have so much to show you." 

[fan-fantasies]

Captain

Request: I would like to request a Captain America imagine with smut, angst, and fluff, where the reader is younger than him, joins the team and trains really hard because she wants to help people. Usually, around the others she is confident, funny, and loves to help the others, but she has a huge crush on Cap and she thinks that he may not like her back because she is younger and inexperienced, so for some time she locks herself up 

A/N: Thanks so much for the request! I hope you enjoy it :-) Heather

Word Count: 2K

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Rating: NSFW

Warnings: Swearing, SMUT (oral f receiving, unprotected sex, captain kink) 

Masterlist   Marvel Masterlist

“Your first mission is next week. Are you ready?” Bucky asked as you swung at him. He easily dodged your punch but wasn’t as lucky with your kick.

“Seems like I’m more prepared than you, old man,” you chuckled as he landed on his back. You held out your hand and helped him up.

“Nice work, (Y/N),” Steve said from the side of the ring. You turned around in surprise and in doing so caught yourself up on your shoelaces and fell flat on your face.

“Let’s just hope the enemy isn’t a shoelace,” Bucky laughed. Steve rolled his eyes at him and asked if you were okay.

“Yeah, yeah I’m great! So good! I’ll see you guys later!” You rambled while you stumbled out of the ring. You ran off toward the exit so you could hide away in your room for the rest of the day. Steve probably thought you were a clumsy idiot and you don’t dare show your face in front of him today.

You decided to watch a few movies on Netflix and only emerged from your room when your stomach demanded it. You made your way to the kitchen where Wanda had started on dinner.

“Hey (Y/N), care to help?” She asked. You loved learning different recipes from Wanda and always jumped at the opportunity to cook with her. “So I heard you got a bit flustered in front of Steve today in training.”

“Who told you? Was it Bucky? I’ll kill him,” you groaned.

“We all think you should just tell Steve how you feel. It’s obvious he likes you too,” she tells you. You drop the spoon you were holding and curse.

“It’s obvious that he doesn’t feel the same way and by telling him I would just make things so much worse,” you sighed.

“Why wouldn’t he like you? You’re smart, strong, funny, loyal, beautiful…I could go on forever,” she smiles.

“Did you wanna go out with me?” You smirk at her. She rolls her eyes and laughs.

“I wouldn’t steal you away from Cap,” she says. You shake your head and scowl.

You two finish dinner in silence and call everyone down to eat. You take your usual place next to Natasha and Sam and wait for everyone else to file in.

“How’s your face feeling, (Y/N)? Those laces really got the better of you,” Bucky smirked from across the table.

“I heard it was after she got the best of you, Tin-man,” Sam snaps. Bucky frowns at him but shuts up nonetheless. You nudged Sam and smiled and he just sent you a wink.

“Are you excited for the mission next week, kiddo?” Tony asked.

“I am actually,” you answered.

“I remember my first mission, it was so cool,” Peter joined in and wouldn’t stop talking. You all listened and laughed.

You had joined the team a little while after Peter had and you were a little older too. He was like a little brother yet he still had more missions and training under his belt. That was one of the reasons you knew Steve could never like you. You were one of the youngest ones on the team and he was like a hundred. Of course, he didn’t look a hundred but you get the idea.

You all continued to laugh and eat and you forgot about any worry that was in your mind. That was until Steve walked in.

“Sorry I’m late, guys,” he apologized.

Steve took a plate and sat next to Bucky almost directly across from you. He sent you a small smile that almost caused you to choke.

“We were just discussing missions, didn’t miss much,” Tony informed him. “Any advice for our young Padawan here?” Steve looked over to you and you wanted to crawl under the table.

“If you can kick Bucky’s ass, you’re gonna be fine,” Steve smiled.

“She didn’t kick my ass, I let her win,” Bucky whined.

“Sure you did, pal. We all know (y/n) is plenty capable of taking you down,” Steve joked. “Just don’t rush, don’t panic, and know that we all have your back.”

“Got it, Captain,” you nod. You see Steve’s smile fall a bit and his jaw tensed. Had you angered him? Should you have said yes sir instead? You started to panic and everyone noticed the frantic look in your eyes. You quickly excused yourself from the table and brought your plate to the sink, nearly tripping on Clint’s quiver. Why did he even carry that thing with him?

“Is she okay?” Steve asked. “Nerves for the mission?”

“She seems pretty confident about the mission,” Sam told him. His friend could be so oblivious sometimes.

“Why don’t you go ask her what’s wrong?” Nat suggested.

“I’m not sure I’m the best person to do that,” he mumbled sadly. He thought that you didn’t like him, were scared of him even. You always seem to rush out of the room when he enters and you get nervous.

“You’re most definitely the best person to do that,” Bucky said. He took Steve’s plate and threw it in the sink. “Now go.”

“Jeez, fine, I’ll go,” he said. He walked down the long hallway to your room and knocked. Friday informed you who the visitor was and you started to clam up.

“H-hey,” you said when you opened the door.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yeah..uh yes, yes, captain,” you said. Steve clenched his fist and took a deep breath. You looked up at him with your innocent doe eyes and frowned, Steve thought he was gonna lose it.

“You don’t have to call me that when we’re not on a mission. Steve is fine,” he told you.

“Yes, cap- I mean Steve.”

“Can I...can I come in maybe? I’d like to talk some more,” he asked. You move out of the way and let him in, watching him take a seat on your bed. Your heart was going a million miles an hour and you prayed that he couldn’t hear it.

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask.

“No, of course not! I just wanted to make sure that you’re really okay. That you’re settling in with the team.”

“Yeah, everyone’s great. I love it here,” you answer honestly. You really did love the team and the work, even if it was hard.

“No one makes you uncomfortable?” He asked awkwardly.

“No?”

“Not even me?” He asked. He finally looked up at you and you were shocked.

“No! You don’t make me uncomfortable,” you tell him. You sit next to him on the bed. “Why do you think that?”

“You always seem nervous around me and it feels like you try to avoid me,” he almost whispered.

“It’s not that you make me uncomfortable” you sigh. You really didn’t want to have this conversation right now.

“Do you not like me then?”

“It’s not that either,” you sighed. “I do… like you…”

“So why do you avoid me?” He questioned.

“Because I have a crush on you and it’s easier to avoid you than to confront it. I know I’m too young for you and inexperienced. I didn’t want to make things weird between us and I’m sure it’ll go away soon. I’m sorry, Captain,” you babble.

Steve isn’t sure what to say because he never thought that your behavior was because you had a crush on him. He thought back to all the times when you’d start to ramble or trip over things when he entered the room or how you whispered to Wanda sometimes when he was around. He now understood that when you would clench your thighs together when watching him train wasn’t because he scared you but because he aroused you. His long silence worried you.

“C-captain?” His eyes snapped to yours and they were filled with lust. He leaned forward and captured your lips with his. You froze in shock until he pulled away.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have! It’s just I like you too and you kept calling me Captain… I couldn’t help myself and that’s no excuse but-“ you cut him off by kissing him. You practically jumped in his lap and straddled him. His large hands gripped your hips and pulled you down onto his clothed, rock hard cock. You moaned into the kiss and he pulled away.

“Do you wanna go further?” He asked breathlessly.

“Yes, Captain,” you bite your lip when he groans. He begins to attack your neck, nipping and kissing all over. He pulled your shirt from your body and your bra soon followed. He lifted you from his lap and you whined, earning a slap on the ass from Steve.

Steve got undressed and watched you take off your shorts and panties. You both looked at each other before he nearly lunged at you. Your tongues were as entwined as your bodies. His hand worked its way to your pussy and your body jolted when his fingers found your clit. He rubbed slow circles while his other hand palmed your breast.

“More, please,” You whimpered and moved your hips for more friction. Steve obliged and plunged a finger into your core, a second one quickly following. His thumb continued to rub circles on your clit while his fingers quickly had you falling to pieces. “Fuck, Captain! Yes!”

“Cum for me, baby,” he whispered. With one final thrust of his fingers into your g-spot, you came undone. Goosebumps covered your skin as you began to tremble. When Steve was satisfied with his work he slowly removed his fingers from you. You tried to move so you could return the favor but he stopped you. “I need to be inside you. I need to feel you.”

“Fuck,” you moaned. He stroked his cock a few times before lining it up with your entrance.

“Are you ready?” He asked.

“Please, Captain, fuck me,” you told him. He didn’t need to be told again. He slid his cock into you inch by inch. You had never felt so full before.

Once he was fully seated inside of you he pulled back. This time he slammed back in causing you to gasp. He began to thrust into you at a relentless pace. Your name fell from his lips like a prayer and he peppered you with kisses.

Your body began to tense again, your climax building quickly.

“Steve, I’m gonna cum,” you whined.

“Wait for me, sweetheart,” he told you. His thrusts became harder as he was chasing your climax trying to earn his own. You pulled him down to kiss you and your fingernails dug into his neck. The stinging pain mixed with the feeling of you was enough to get him to the edge.

“Cum for me, Captain,” you whispered. His thrusts slowed to a deliciously slow pace, the tip of his cock nudging your g-spot with each thrust. The feeling of him releasing inside of you was more than enough to send shockwaves through your body. Steve continued to work his cock into you slowly until both of you were completely satiated.

“That was amazing,” he mumbled into your neck before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.

“I guess I should’ve been calling you captain sooner,” you chuckled. You winced when he pulled his cock out and he pulled you close to his chest.

“As much as I love hearing you come undone for your Captain, I think it’d be much easier if you called me Steve in front of the team or on dates so I don’t tear your clothes off every chance I get,” he laughed.

“So we’re gonna go on dates?” You asked nervously.

“Of course, sweetheart. I meant it when I said that I like you too. You’re young but that doesn’t matter to me. What matters is that you’re kind and caring and you kick ass” he smiled at you. You turned to him and kissed him. You never wanted to leave your bed, the feeling of your bodies twisted as one was too good to let go of. “I really think we have something here.”

“I think so too...Captain.”

Permanent for all: @lokilvrr @m-a-t-91

Marvel: @burberry13addicted @pixiehex1985  @supernatural-fanfic @thisismysecrethappyplace @lokilow-keystabbing @angelw1tch @yuvalpayne20@xbabyvalx @emcchi @scarletsoldierrr @latsyrc85x

[vaguely-concerned]

I’m back! Temeraire Let’s Read:Tongues of Serpents

- Tharkay literally shows up at the beginning of the second sentence; STRONG start, I highly approve, great improvement on every level

fsdafhsadkjlfh cooly tossing tables and throwing people’s drinks in their faces in the bar brawl fkjsdhfksdalfhasdj this ain’t his first rodeo huh

- these dumbasses having to clean up from the bar brawl before going home so their dragons don’t go out there and demand to have a word with the dudes who bullied their lil boys... oh my  g o d 

- “it was true, if one wished to be very particular about such things, that laurence was a convicted felon”  t e m e r a i r e... ~*technicality schmechnicality*~ it was barely treason at all really  

also temeraire being in super protective mother hen/older brother mode over the eggs is perfect  

- Jane Rolands bluff, jovial letter writing is Everything

- “Have Temeraire throw him overboard,” Tharkay had suggested laconically, when Laurence had escaped to his quarters for a little relief and some piquet . . . “He can fish him out again later,” he added, as an afterthought.

A VISIONARY. An unmitigated joy. “Have Temeraire throw him overboard”. He says what we’re all thinking. 

- AAAAAAAAH MUTUAL FIRST NAME BASIS!!!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL WTF HAVE THEY BEEN DOING ON THIS TRIP TELL ME IN DETAIL WHEN THE SWITCH HAPPENED PLEASE (also I really like that the first instance we see is “But Tenzing, I cannot trust myself” b/c that was literally the whole point of that scene in VoE. laurence... yes you can. tfw your crush is the goodiest of twoshoes and can barely move for it and doesn’t even knoooow)

- y’know if Laurence could get over this thought that asking a direct question to a friend is just ~*intolerably rude*~ he could get so much shit done 

(I guess tharkay, clearly a follower of the rosa diaz school of ‘no one is ever going to know shit about me’, is like fuck yeah I’ve struck gold with this one)

- “So spake the pot” oh I do love Actually Pretty Chill Dad William Laurence finally letting the snark out more frequently, it suits him very much (I guess his main claims to fame in a lot of circles is a) treason and b) spoiling his dragon rotten)

- rankin’s name is mentioned and everyone’s like HIIISSSSSSSS and RIGHTLY SO FUCK THAT GUY JUSTICE FOR LEVITAS

- temeraire is talking to the egg about consent and saying he’ll make sure it won’t have to do anything it doesn’t want to fjklsadhfkaslhfsd my heart

- lol lol lol weeeell in hindsight who could’ve guessed captain and second in command of the dragon pirates would have a materialistic superficial kid huh

- . . . Granby said, with a look half affection and half exasperation oh granby baby still carrying that torch huh

- lol lol lol just the implication of sara maden and laurence silently tops up his drink and he’s like ‘cheers’ and they’re both quiet for a moment flskdfs 

if you think about it that must’ve been such a wild day in his life tho -- like first  Laurence furiously fires him for being gone at a crucial moment and then immediately unfires him when it turns out he’s been chasing a lead and being the only goddamn person really working on solving all their problems (as is his wont), then he finds out his ex is getting married and steadfastly pretends it doesn’t even bother him, lol what are feelings I heard only losers have them (extremely relatable -- I guess he must have known it was in the cards though, because he specifically tells Laurence at the beginning he didn’t intend to go back to Istanbul, so it’s been over for a while?) then they go on a life and death chase through the sewers, and THEN, before he knows it, after half a book of being kind of a mistrustful dick to him, Laurence does a 180° and is there offering eternal friendship with big soulful eyes after seeing him get upset one time and y’know I guess I see why that got to him lol 

- aw man I know it’s never going to happen but I am getting sort of wistful and teary-eyed over this pirate (cough cough I mean legally sanctioned privateer of course) AU that’s going entirely to waste

here are some tags I left on this superb piece of fanart: #I just got to the part where tharkay makes the suggestion and like... I know it's not happening #but what a shimmering tender mother of pearl dream to carry in one's heart lol #just a lil pirate family out there wrecking shit #temeraire would get wind of what the east india company actually does and they'd inevitably turn against them and fuck 'em up... *sigh* #fix it fic: the boys kiss and the east india company is stopped from committing further atrocities! all is well

so that’s basically my position on that

- “I’m sure there’s nothing too dangerous out there, in the fucking untamed Australian wilderness,” Temeraire said, tempting fate to a frankly anxiety-inducing extent 

- hell yeah demane is the only one with presence of mind to actually find some food; you go buddy <3

- my boy tharkay slinking off in the middle of the night without telling anyone and solving everyone’s problems... *dabs at eyes* just like old times

- oh wow rankin really is just a piece of shit in every way huh

- fhasdklhfsadfsad temeraire being like ‘I know tharkay is a strong independent human who is perfectly capable of making his own decisions and don’t need no dragon... but also he’s clearly one of my humans tho why is he riding on another dragon :(’ THE CUTEST SHIT

- temeraire silently dissing his dad over refusing to believe in ghosts ~*except*~ for the holy spirit adslfhaskjdlhfs

- demane taking in the strange little hatchling... im crey... he truly hits me straight in the heart every time

also laurence steadfastly Doing The Right Thing and following his convictions is so deeply healing after all that bullshit he went through in the last book... makes me feel all safe and calm inside haha

- actually when you think about it it’s so fucked up that they apparently just straight up murder dragons with birth defects in england as a matter of course b/c like. dragons come out of the egg fully sentient and capable of understanding what’s being said around them. kulingile literally understood every word they were saying as they discussed whether or not they should be KILLING HIM.  j e s u s  thank god for demane and laurence’s stubborn insistence on being good

- temeraire going straight from mother hen to extremely impatient and jealous older brother the moment an egg hatches never gets old. all these dumb little babies just complaining and stealing his crew ugh (HOW FUCKING CUTE is him deciding kulingile could be a scholar or something tho #dragon rights)

- “I wish,” Temeraire said to Laurence, “I do wish that other dragons were not always thinking me peculiar . . . it makes one doubtful.” BABY BOY NOOOO he’s just so sweet and he’s so secretly scared that laurence might resent him a little after the whole treason business and OW right in the parental heart that fucks me up

- Temeraire’s indignant “Oh!”s always soothe my soul it’s so adorable

- little emily roland yelling “damn you all for cowards!” after a bunch of grown men fleeing while she reloads her gun and takes aim again is incredible poetic cinema (and also demane joining her... I love the bond they’ve got going on in the background here)

- aw poor sipho :( at least he still has temeraire to nerd out with and stuff but that’s some difficult shit to process for a kid

kulingile bobbing around tethered to temeraire like a small balloon at a fair is such an image, what a blessing, temeraire’s exasperated brand of babysitting is so funny

- laurence being a Dad to the kids in his crew... mana from heaven

- YESSS they crossed the endless miles of DEADLY AUSTRALIAN WILDERNESS so laurence could be MORTIFIED as the emperor’s adopted son at a party this is the content I am here for

- hell yeah let’s play a round of pimp my captain!!!!!!!!!!

“And,” Laurence said. “And you are certain that this should be appropriate for the occasion; not, perhaps, excessive?” I can’t  b r e a t h e  he can’t even say shit because his dragon boi is so happy fsaldfjsldhfasjlh and then granby making fond fun of him what a beautiful cherry on top of this sweet sweet laurence being embarrassed sundae 

- william ‘I’m here to kick ass and describe menswear in fastidious detail and I’ve already kicked my own ass twice today’ laurence strikes again

- this description of the dragons sitting around squabbling as they watch shiny sparkly things is the most endearing few pages in modern literature do not @ me

- it’s kind of fucked up that the emperor of china is giving laurence more of the sort of warmth and validation a father should than his actual dad ever did lol. u did good curing the dragon plague, weird european adopted son I am proud of you

- every time temeraire is really upset about something my soul suffers a small wound

thank god he doesn’t actually know what opium is really used for most of the time yet (also I am obligated to divulge that I am entirely charmed by tharkay’s sardonic yet clear eyed cynicism on the issue, I cannot be anything but what I am and he hasn’t had enough proper page time in this half of the book so I will take what I can get)  

- ...I kind of just realized that I imagine the sea serpents basically as long-ass gyaradoses... OH NO

I will say I respect the ‘give no fucks’ vibe they give off -- it’s a real ‘we’re here to eat fish & party and if you try to get in our way we’re gonna have you as a snack’ mood and I cannot fault them for it

- iskierka is such a fuckboi it’s glorious 

- nOOOOOO tharkay is leaving again fuck ;_______; is his life just an endless procession of semi-unwillingly having to go back to istanbul again these days 

Temeraire did not see why Tharkay should have to go so far, only to deliver news; and particularly when he did not seem as though he wished to go, very much. DDDDDDDD: THIS SUCKS you know that when a) he’s letting it show and b) temeraire notices it that he is dragging his heels big time over this lol

‘there can be very little to call you back to this part of the world any time soon’ LAURENCE YOU 24 KARAT IDIOT YOU ARE HERE HE CAME TO AUSTRALIA FOR YOU ALREADY WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS

all that said whenever I see a ‘Tenzing’ on the page my heart does a happy little dance. ah well now let’s settle in and wait for what horrible catastrophe will happen now that tharkay is gone... come back soon buddy

- ooooooooooooh that is so good, using the last chapter + epilogue to show how the... idk moral wound I guess laurence received victory of eagles has finally healed, that’s so reassuring. he just wants to do good things for good causes and can’t be badgered, cajoled, threatened or convinced to do anything less anymore and it’s all so sweet and well earned. that’s some good development through this book too, from ‘tenzing I cannot trust myself’ to this. excellent stuff

- while I did quite enjoy this book for the character moments it is incredibly weirdly structured? like the beginning drags a bit with the quite uninteresting colony politics and stuff but then they’re finally travelling and then... nothing really happens plot wise before the sea serpents freak the fuck out at the end there lol. I’m mostly a character-oriented reader tho so I’m pretty fine with it.

ETA: actually now that I think about it I’d say that my biggest gripe with this book is that it doesn’t engage at all with the perspective of the native australian people? even though one of the dragons settles down with one group? god knows it’s not like there was no time to dive into it, considering all that time spent in the fucking wilderness lol

we’re going to the inca empire next tho apparently fuck YEAH!!! that’s such an underexplored and extremely interesting part of history, my body is Ready

[thestuckylibrary]

Mod’s Reads: June 2018

Here’s the list of everything the Mods have read this past month!

Mod Iamnmbr3

in cayenne and honey, in vinegar and lime by alby_mangroves, Nonymos* (complete | 27,604 | E ) *Bucky/M’baku ; mutually clear endgame stucky and M’baku/Okoye 

M’Baku fought for T’Challa. But should he keep fighting for T’Challa’s vision? The king is professing change, such deep change, while the Jabari are supposed to be the guardians of tradition.

It’s a complex problem, which demands a cool head. So M’Baku could really do without an old love coming back to haunt him, an obnoxious royal teenager, and T’Challa’s secret one-armed guest.

Scents and Sensibility: The Working Assassin's Guide to Supersoldier Seduction* by galwednesday, silentwalrus, skellerbvvt (WIP | 52,925 | T ) *gender spectrum society AU

Captain America wakes up from the ice in 2013. The Winter Soldier wakes up in 2009, or rather defects from HYDRA, for a value of defect that’s closer to decimate. He ends up working for SHIELD. In April 2014, he’s assigned to Captain America’s mission as a sniper. Steve’s just trying to get some kind of life together. Bucky is too, or at least he was until tall, blond and Captain shows up and starts just - being there, all the time. It’s terrible. It’s the worst. He has to do something about it.

no way out but through* by hollimichele (complete | 9,515 | T ) *canon divergent catws AU 

Steve never sees it coming.

Lover's Eye by RedRowan (complete | 16,148 | T ) 

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in want of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. Yet for Steven Rogers, painter of miniatures, it is not the company of ladies, but the acquaintance of Captain James Buchanan Barnes, Royal Navy, that captivates his imagination.

Thyme and Tide by leveragehunters (Monkeygreen), seleneheart (complete | 21,630 | T ) 

Bucky might be only a one-armed ex-mercenary who'd washed up, half-drowned, on the shores of Sciatha with nothing and nowhere—never mind how hard Captain Rogers, head of Sciatha's Royal Guard, was trying to change that—but even he knew better than to get involved with the fae.

Unfortunately, that wisdom had somehow bypassed Sciatha's ancient kings…and fae bargains always came due.

Mod Blue

Death & Taxes by TheFemale_Accountant (WIP | 14,431 | E)

Bucky is a rich, good-looking partner at the accounting firm Fury & Coulson LLC. Steve is a new tax associate coming into the firm. One look is all it takes to ignite something they never saw coming.

Family Doctor by buckbarners, savepowbuckybarnes (Wholocked) (oneshot | 9,645 | G)

As a kid, Steve had more than his fair share of health issues. When his daughter, Sarah, was born she inherited all of them. After Steve gets a new job back home in Brooklyn, Sarah’s new doctor is much more than he was ever expecting.

Thyme and Tide by leveragehunters (Monkeygreen), seleneheart (complete | 21,630 | T)

Bucky might be only a one-armed ex-mercenary who'd washed up, half-drowned, on the shores of Sciatha with nothing and nowhere—never mind how hard Captain Rogers, head of Sciatha's Royal Guard, was trying to change that—but even he knew better than to get involved with the fae.

Unfortunately, that wisdom had somehow bypassed Sciatha's ancient kings…and fae bargains always came due.

A Sky Full of Stars by BrighteyedJill (complete | 15,124 | E)

The dappled sunlight played over Buck’s face, making him look like a magical creation, some kind of illusion. Steven reached out a hand to touch, to make certain he was real.

Buck started and pulled away when Steven’s fingers made contact.

“Sorry!” Steven snatched back his hand. “I didn’t--”

“No, don’t. It’s only that I have never touched a human before.” Buck captured Steven’s hand in his and guided it back to rest against his cheek. “Go ahead.”

an unfamiliar coast by brideofquiet (oneshot | 19,048 | M)

He doesn’t have a concept of how long ten years is anywhere. Not even before he’d been yanked out of a natural, linear progression. He’d been six years old once; he’d been sixteen and then he’d been twenty-six. But the breadth of time between those moments—what the hell is ten years?

A long, long time. That’s all he knows.

(Bucky goes to war. Ten years later, he comes home.)

Love You More by Loeily, Squeaky (complete | 36,477 | T)

Steve is fine raising his young son as a single dad. He misses his late wife, Peggy, every day, but his job with Stark Industries is fulfilling and he loves his friends. He doesn't need anything or anyone else. But then Pepper Potts hires Bucky Barnes, the new daycare provider for Stark Towers, and everything changes.

Steve knows that Bucky is attracted to him, but Steve totally, completely and utterly will not allow himself to feel the same. He can't. Because he has a million-and-one excellent reasons to not fall in love with the smart, funny, kind and sexy-as-hell Bucky Barnes.

If only his heart had gotten the memo...

The Stars They Sewed On Us by Khaleesi_onthemoon, Speranza (complete | 9,554 | not rated)

"Do you remember the time I was only Steve and you were only Bucky? Do you remember when we were only two boys from Brooklyn?"

who needs a bodyguard? by deceptivesoldier, moblit (complete | 14,658 | T)

“Rogers!”

The door whooshes open to reveal a lithe man with haphazardly messed up blond hair and squinty blue eyes, being swallowed by a blanket.

“No need to shout, Peggy. I told you I was awake,” he says, his voice low and rumbly. He looks to Bucky and hums approvingly. “That’s the ugliest suit in the world, but somehow you still look hot. If you wanna forget about being my bodyguard, you could just join me in bed,” he says flirtatiously, blinking at Bucky through way-too-long eyelashes.

Ooooh, Bucky is in trouble. __

Or, the one in which Steve is a flirty model, and Bucky is the bodyguard he doesn’t need.

Linger by evieeden (complete | 7,661 | M)

Bucky Barnes has always loved Steve Rogers. It's just a shame that he never felt the same way.

Written for the 2018 Captain America Reverse Big Bang!

Electric Hearts by crinklefries (complete | 73,625 | M)

Three hundred years ago, Earth was destroyed. Only by shipping offplanet and transitioning into robots does humanity survive--barely. Now, centuries later, what was once their saving grace, Androids, have become expendable. Distrusted, mistreated, and forcibly deactivated, Androids are under attack.

Steve, former human, political dissenter with an ardent love for fire, and now full Android with an inability to keep his goddamned mouth shut, is tired. Bucky, former human, war survivor who was rescued from a self-loathing spiral out of a literal trash can, and now full Android with emotional turbulence, is lonely.

When the two meet, they find that living is not about what makes them robots, but the spark that makes them human.

But is it too little too late? Because to survive the threat of this new world together, it's possible that simply feeling human may not be enough.

the last good day of the year by belovedmuerto, djchika (oneshot| 15,699 | T)

Just after the fall of the Triskelion, Bucky collects Steve from the hospital, and they go on a road trip.

Steve's just going with it, for once in his life.

A Week in the Life of Scott Lang: Superhero (featuring Steve Rogers) by djchika (oneshot | 9,591 | T)

“So what kind of mission needs all of you plus the Ant-man?”

“We are in need of your suit but, more than that, we need your expertise,” Shuri gestured at the others, “As you said we have a genius, a spy and we have our soldiers. What we need is a thief.”

If Scott was in a TV show he’d be staring straight at the camera right now.

The Voyager by notlucy (complete | 76,741 | E)

On the day aliens fall to earth through a hole ripped in the sky, Bucky Barnes is pulled from the rubble of the Battle of New York by a mysterious man wearing a costume and a cowl.

The next day, he wakes up in the hospital and makes a new friend named Steve Rogers - a certified weirdo with a deck of cards and plenty of time on his hands.

A postcard, a text, and a thousand miles of asphalt later, Bucky's still trying to understand the man who came from the stars.

Steve, meanwhile, is finally putting the journey ahead of the destination.

i'm flicking through the pages, written in my memories by Hazloveshisboo

Bucky has his first nightmare around Steve.

Part 14 of We Know Where We Belong

take my hand (take my whole life too) by layersofsilence, SgtGraves (complete | 36,848 | T)

HYDRA may have been revealed and taken down in the span of a few hours, but the repercussions are far more extensive. Steve Rogers, now ex-SHIELD agent, expects to be feeling them in his life for years. What he didn't expect was for them to reach into him and change the most fundamental thing he thought he knew about himself - that he doesn't have a soulmate.

Northern Sky by littleblackfox, WarlockInTraining (complete | 50,470 | M)

Bucky casts around the field, the light rapidly fading as the storm clouds grow denser, swallowing up the weak winter sun. The spirits are here, he can feel them, their amorphous thoughts, panicked and trembling. They can feel his own fear, rising in the back of his throat, fuelling their own terror. Bucky reaches for the chain around his neck, fumbling for his amulets. His fingers close around the two pieces of silver, fine and bright as the scars on his arm. Please. Please keep me safe.

We Never Had a Choice (But I Choose You) by capsiclemycaptain, DrowningByDegrees (complete | 37,360 | E)

When Bucky Barnes is abducted by political activists, the circumstances are simple enough. Desperation breeds all sorts of terrible decisions, after all, and Bucky's captor is clearly woefully out of his depth. Maybe, just maybe, he can talk his way to freedom, but the more Bucky learns about the circumstances of his capture, the more complicated things seem to get. On the run and forced to trust the man who abducted him, Bucky comes to realize that kidnapping is the least of his worries.

Of Dragons and Alchemy by EstherA2J, Lovesfic (me23) (oneshot | 5,235 | T)

In a world where skilled alchemists blend magic with science, an experimental "dragon procedure" is meant to end all weakness. But something goes wrong.

A Marriage of Ice and Fire by alby_mangroves, Mystrana (complete | 75,056 | E)

Steve Rogers hates James Barnes. The feeling’s mutual; their families have been at war for longer than they’ve been alive. But King Odin has had enough. He orders the two of them wed to end the fighting.

It’s not enough that they have to look at each other’s faces without spitting; the King has declared the year’s tournament in their honor. They’ll have to lead the events together. They’ll be wed in front of everyone.

They’ll have to share a gods-be-damned bed.

And if being married to their worst enemy wasn’t enough, now there’s rumors of assassins and talk of a new war and somehow, Steve and Bucky find themselves in the middle of it all. They’re going to have to set aside their hatred long enough to stay alive. And if they start to realize that they might have feelings for each other?

It might not be soon enough.

Mod Julia

hear your call by silentwalrus (oneshot | 6,348 | E)

“You can be rougher,” Bucky says. “If you want.”

They’re about four minutes post orgasm and Steve is still trying to figure out where his legs are. “Muh?”

A Real Boy by itsnotbleak (oneshot | 5,625 | T)

It took the Winter Soldier three weeks to remember that human beings needed to sleep and eat.

It took Steve far too long to realise the Winter Soldier was sleeping in his bed.

tezeta (nostalgia) by vowelinthug (oneshot | 20,139 | E)

Steve Rogers is a terrible tourist, and a lousy house guest.

Bucky Barnes waters his plants and tries his best.

__

set in that sweet spot between Black Panther and Infinity War, in a little valley in Wakanda

where the leaves fall not by dudewhereismypie, obsessivereader (complete | 23,239 | E)

“Sir.” At the uncharacteristic interruption from JARVIS, everyone falls silent. “There is an unauthorized person in the back left-hand corner of the room.”

Steve turns around, already knowing who he’ll see as everyone scrambles to their feet. Sure enough, it’s Bucky, curled up in an armchair, loose-limbed and relaxed as a cat. Long brown hair cascades around his shoulders and the tips of his ears are exactly as pointed as Steve remembers.

Nat whips a gun out from somewhere and points it at him. Tony has a repulsor on his hand. Wanda’s hands are up and surrounded by a red glow. Only Thor seems unworried—resuming his seat after an initial moment of battle-readiness.

“Bucky,” Steve says.

Bucky glances around with bright, inquisitive eyes. The corners of his lips tip up in a smile, as though amused by the chaos his appearance caused. “We meet again, Captain.”

Tony’s eyebrows are parked halfway up his forehead as he studies Bucky. “I see what you mean by Lord of the Rings, Cap.” Then, aggrieved, “JARVIS, how did he get in?”

In which Captain America meets a flirtatious elf...

just the right fit by deceptivesoldier, talkplaylove (oneshot | 3,234 | M)

“There should be a tetris vibrator. The blue line one! Or the other shapes if you wanna get kinky.” Bucky says, wiggling his eyebrows. He grins, maybe a little bit maniacally. “Clint, we gotta start a line of Tetris-themed sex toys. We could put it up on...on Kinkstarter!”

“We gotta find a designer.”

Famous last words.

A Midsummer Knight's Dream by cobaltmoony, GoldBlooded (complete | 29,050 | E)

Sir Steven, knight, alpha, and baron of a small countryside estate, receives an invitation to a Royal Tournament: It’s a winner-take-all competition, and the prize? The hand of Prince James, the kingdom’s most eligible omega, in marriage.

It seems like a lifetime ago that young Steven left the palace – and his best pal, the prince - to attend to his familial duties. Since that time, he’s dreamed of reclaiming his friendship with the prince; if not as a companion, then perhaps as a member of the prince’s guard.

Prince James, royal, omega, and heir to the throne is tired of being reduced to his designation and pressured into an arranged marriage like a political pawn. He devises the tournament as a means to an end: winner claims his hand in marriage, but if he wins? He’ll get to claim his own future.

Let the tournament begin...

We Never Had a Choice (But I Choose You) by capsiclemycaptain, DrowningByDegrees (complete | 37,360 | E)

When Bucky Barnes is abducted by political activists, the circumstances are simple enough. Desperation breeds all sorts of terrible decisions, after all, and Bucky's captor is clearly woefully out of his depth. Maybe, just maybe, he can talk his way to freedom, but the more Bucky learns about the circumstances of his capture, the more complicated things seem to get. On the run and forced to trust the man who abducted him, Bucky comes to realize that kidnapping is the least of his worries.

If a Train Leaves the Station at 60 mph, How Fast will Bucky Barnes Fall in Love with Steve Rogers? by jinlinli (oneshot | 24,369 | T)

There are three things Bucky needs to do to survive high school: 1. Ace the SATs. 2. Stop falling in love with Steve Rogers. 3. Fail horribly at number two.

Actual House Cat, Bucky Barnes by bisexualstarbucky (oneshot | 2,958 | T)

Bucky loves food and naps and Steve Rogers.

take my hand (take my whole life too) by layersofsilence, SgtGraves (complete | 36,848 | T)

HYDRA may have been revealed and taken down in the span of a few hours, but the repercussions are far more extensive. Steve Rogers, now ex-SHIELD agent, expects to be feeling them in his life for years. What he didn't expect was for them to reach into him and change the most fundamental thing he thought he knew about himself - that he doesn't have a soulmate.

Lover's Eye by RedRowan (complete | 16,148 | T)

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in want of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. Yet for Steven Rogers, painter of miniatures, it is not the company of ladies, but the acquaintance of Captain James Buchanan Barnes, Royal Navy, that captivates his imagination.

A Marriage of Ice and Fire by alby_mangroves, Mystrana (complete | 75,056 | E)

Steve Rogers hates James Barnes. The feeling’s mutual; their families have been at war for longer than they’ve been alive. But King Odin has had enough. He orders the two of them wed to end the fighting.

It’s not enough that they have to look at each other’s faces without spitting; the King has declared the year’s tournament in their honor. They’ll have to lead the events together. They’ll be wed in front of everyone.

They’ll have to share a gods-be-damned bed.

And if being married to their worst enemy wasn’t enough, now there’s rumors of assassins and talk of a new war and somehow, Steve and Bucky find themselves in the middle of it all. They’re going to have to set aside their hatred long enough to stay alive. And if they start to realize that they might have feelings for each other?

It might not be soon enough.

[thedepthsremember]

TRR 3.20 "A Warm Reception" what does that mean. does that mean FIRE i am on edge

I'm expecting it to go all nice and heartwarming, and then Anton shows up at the end. We shall see.

Officially longer than any other TRR book! We’re in uncharted territory now!

From what I saw from my roommate’s Liam playthrough, a lot of the carriage dialogue is mostly the same no matter who’s there, but, I do like this as a callback to awesome-storm Maxwell-Riley from the Homecoming ball, or Duke Whirlwind Dancemaster-Deluxe. With Maxwell, everyone keeps emphasizing how our lives together will be full of adventure and never be boring. ♥

You fools, take this chance to make out in the carriage! No! F O O L S 

Oh. Hello Ana! She’s got a new dress for us, of course. 

... Mehhhhh sorry not into that plasticy cutout look. Why do they keep doing that, it doesn't look like fabric. Sorry Ana, I’m gonna stick with what I've got. 

Maxwell says it doesn’t matter what Riley’s wearing, he and everyone else won’t be able to keep his eyes off her. :’) ♥ bro

Ana, a true friend (despite how I keep tossing out all her hard work) leaves us alone in the boutique. 

We are a storm... a hurricane… a mega punching robot... of love

sweet nervous boy. Riley literally said “I do” (well, ‘hell yeah’ in my case) and he’s still can’t help doubting a little. 

now makeouts?? nope, Madeline. Girl you are about to get stabbed. ANA, WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP HER, I’M SORRY, I’LL WEAR THE DAMN DRESS

(If we keep trying and then getting interrupted, only to finally succeed I will actually love that.)

Oooooo the reception hall is so pretty! Damn, they have really been outdoing themselves with the art lately. First the cathedral, now this. *__*

People coming up to tell us how we made them cry out our vows! Yessss tell us all about your tears! Our love is powerful, baby.

Took no screenshots of Hana’s parents so I can ignore that they came. 

NEVILLE?! WHAT THE F. RASHAD, DID YOU BRING HIM. DUDE. YOUR FRIEND IS SHITTY AND NO ONE LIKES HIM, STOP BRINGING HIM PLACES. 

You know, at the beginning of the tour we heard Neville wasn't even planning on coming to the wedding so I guess that's........ ssssomethingg..g..........…

like maybe he’ll get shot this time. aim better, assassins 

Anyway, better people now! Hello friends! 

Hana says we were like a fairytale! Even Drake is getting poetic. Liam sees how much we love each other. Maxwell has won the wife lottery. Excellent, so much love here. 

LMAO....... SAVANNAH EYEING BERTRAND LIKE, HUH.... MARRIAGE..... HOW BOUT..... THAT...…. :|

Me and Maxwell, poster children for impulsivity: YEAH, JUST DO IT JUST JUMP INTO MARRIAGE IT'S GREAT

Bertrand : *SWEATS BUCKETS* 

Hgnngggg I would stab a man for that wedding food right now. I picked Drake’s beef pork stew and oh my god...……. How do they always make it sound so good??? 

[pause to google feijoada recipe]

Time for toasts! Maxwell’s...….. awwww. ;___; 

He starts it as a Once Upon A Time story of how Riley was whisked away to love a prince, but her happy ending was swapped when she fell for the court jester instead. 

(Flashing back to the apple festival and Maxwell being excited to be jester. Good times.) 

My heart is bursting. I love our story too T_T 

Andddd he just blurts out about the hippo tattoo to everyone and covers it up with an awkward metaphor. That's a deeply Maxwell moment and I love it. ♥ 

Omg. Might regret it but I desperately want to hear Olivia's idea of a wedding toast.

EXCUSE YOU MADELINE, SCHEDULE SMEDULE. THE BRIDE DEMANDS TO HEAR EVERYONE RAPTURE ABOUT OUR LOVE

Olivia:  So soon after I met Riley I was like "I hate that bitch" Riley: a-awwww....thanks...…… 

I'M DEAD "LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENT" I WON OLIVIA’S RESPECT! :’D BEST DAY EVERRR

I mean we also got married but like. you get it. 

“As we say in Lythikos, you’re still alive, so drink!” never change. 

Liam: Aww...…. He tries but falls back on being super formal, referring to me as "Cordonia’s newest dutchess” and me “being a friend to Cordonia and [him]”

It's ok buddy, sneak out whenever you're ready. Hana and Drake can cover for you.

Hana: Hana wins the toast both for having the most insightful things to say, and also being LITERALLY THE ONLY ONE (besides Bertrand) TO TALK ABOUT MAXWELL. She also made me cry, so like, triple points. 😢 😭 I love her so muuuuch.

Drake: “I knew you were trouble when you walked innnn~” 

Those were some real nice things you said about me but YOU ARE THE BEST MAN. 

I know I'm great and we're all in love with me, but come on. 

Alright here’s Bertrand, he’s gotta talk about Maxwell. 

new big bro you will be NICE to your BROTHER or I STG

starting out rocky what with the “wow Maxwell made like so many mistakes” business. let him rest, it’s his day, good lord 

*snaps fingers in front of his face* BABS, FOCUS

OH. OH OKAY. HE TURNED IT AROUND. HE SAID HE LOVES HIS BROTHER IN FRONT OF EVERYONE. THE DANCING COMMENT AND EVERYTHING AND HE ADMITTED MAXWELL DOESN'T NEED TO GROW UP. I'M. OVERWHELMED. 

In which I will take any choice that turns Riley into a woo girl. And Kiara’s family continues to be my favorite. They’re coming over to Valtoria Revanasi all the time. 

After all that, my toast was … whelming. I did get my vows already, so I guess it’s whatever. 

First dance time! Aww this track is giving me HSS prom flashbacks. Michael I hope you're happy out there.

Apparently Maxwell picked the song, which can only mean he is a secret HSS fan. 

“Partners” is such a lovely title for these two. I've always loved the term, you're partners in crime, partners for life, but they're also dance partners.  

Number of times Maxwell has done the dip kiss: 4. This boy SMOOTH AS HECK. 

Bertrand is scandalized by our nonsense but Drake understands they should take what they can get.

(where are my boy’s damn jello shots) 

..... I think I just married Emperor Kuzco. 

Maxwell challenges Drake to a dance off, and holy shit Drake can dance. Or at least spin kick. I'm still fairly certain he has no sense of rhythm. 

....Drake did not dispute the best friend comment and I'm counting that as a win for Maxwell. 

time. for. CAKE????! 

Real life me is a little sad I don’t have cake. I do have fancy rice crispies from my friend’s coworker’s wedding. It’s no passionfruit cake tho :’( 

(they successfully distracted me from wait where’s Olivia with cake. How dare you take advantage of my short attention span.)

Maxwell and Riley have matching swords. I might cry. That's the best.

..... Incredibly tempting to fuck up and cut the table. But OUR CAKE ok doing this right. 

WHOA Bastien hello, where'd you come from.

Aww Madeline has pleased her goblin father.

Maxwell is so happy about the Cheetah cake SUCCESSSSSS [sneakily high fives Gladys]

[I hope Gladys gets cake. At least 3 slices for Gladys.]

Ooooh so Savannah and Drake's mom still came! She’s off taking care of Bertie. Bring forth the Walker matriarch, I wish to meet her. [ spoilers: we do not :( ]

Uh oh Savannah is pissed and I bet I know why~

Bertrand's only just noticed oh dear.

Savannahhhhhh pleeassssse. These two need to work on commutation so bad. I TOLD YOU TO BE DIRECT WITH THIS DUMBASS. YOU'RE STILL HINTING. 

Bride awkwardly hovers outside her own reception trying to get her fool friends to communicate AGAIN.

Like I'm pretty patient and Bertrand is family but oh my god I can't be there for everything

Riley is tired too, bless her. We could totally have snuck off with Maxwell at this point but no, here we are. 

Ok Riley's prize for taking the diamond option to help Bertrand one more time is that she gets to cause shenanigans. You know my girl loves a good shenanigan! 

Oh my god are we getting the band back together YESSSSS

Stop one: Drake. He knows Riley by this point and senses shenanigans a mile away. 

Drake: You don't need my permission, Savannah’s her own woman and all that.  Bertrand: But I'd like it. Drake: ok then FUCK NO. Bertrand: :’O

Bertrand making the shocked face is always funny. Same with his mad face. Really just Bertrand emoting = comedy gold.  

Drake fully won Maxwell's respect with the breakdancing, and he's won Riley's by realizing he has the power to make Bertrand do whatever he wants right now. 

Drake immediately regrets his abuse of power. Aaahaha ok, ease into it.

Somehow we talked Drake into singing. I'm just saying, this would have been so much easier with him last, when peer pressure was on the table.

Maxwell has been waiting for a moment like this moment his entire life, he'd pay to be part of this.

Liam would both do anything I asked and is always down for bromance time.

There is an option to panic and throw the bouquet at Neville. I have to try that at least once. But later. 

Man Riley should have demanded the boys reunite their quartet anyway. BEST WEDDING PRESENT EVERRRRR (after all their other gifts because those were actually really sweet)

Savannah: holy crap you're smiling  Bertrand: Well you make me happy so fukkin get used to it 

^Those are totally direct quotes. 

While I’m making other people happy - TIME FOR GIFTS! 

The book for Liam is a nice follow up to all his talk about how he wants to bring Cordonia peace. You’ve got faith that he can achieve his dreams! Aww.

Everyone else does surprised sprites but Drake is wary as ever. Smart dude.

Hana's gift............... Ok yeah let’s just...… move along. sigh. 

At least Riley succeeded through the roof with Maxwell’s gift, he was about to pass out with all the layers this gift has. Aww, that was so worth it. 

Honestly these were all kind of short. Meh. Maxwell’s was worth it, Liam’s was a nice second. 

Finally can we sneak off--??

MADELINE.............. I WILL STAB YOU WITH MAXWELL’S FANCY ACTION FIGURE, DON'T THINK I WON'T 

Time to see other friends! We go to Kiara first, which is good. I continue to be proud of her forever. 

Penelope is me at every party. Where are the dogs. I can people watch just fine next to the dogs.

HOOOOLY SHIT

DANIEL

D A N I E L

DANIEL IS HERE, TAKING SHOTS WITH LEO

What do you know :D I have friends! Well. One friend. And no family. They’re really determined to leave that open, huh. You know, I’m okay with it. 

Daniel, I admire your thrift, especially considering what it must have cost to come here on a waiter’s salary, but someone is definitely going to think you're here to serve food.

..... Whelp that came true immediately. Hey Regina. 

Leo goes off with him. I guess they're bros now! 

or .... well. I've seen the posts going around. Make this a trip to remember, Leo! ;) 

Awwww nice moment with Regina. Look how far we’ve come!  I've always liked her. She's a practical lady. 

GLADYS

GLADYS IS HERE TO LET US GET ALONE TIME, FINALLY. BLESS YOU GLADYS, I COULD KISS YOU but that’s for Maxwell 

Wait...... I'm getting suspicious. We're just. wandering away......… mmm :|

oh noOOOOOOOOOOooo--[all goes dark]

Aw mannnnnnnn Gladys D: Riley is never trusting anyone in this broke-ass country again. Remember how we kept talking about how in New York you can trust people to be upfront with their intentions???? 

[throws Daniel and Hana into a suitcase] COME ON MAXWELL, WE’RE MOVING BACK TO NEW YORK. 

IS THAT SOMEONE ANTON, GLADYS

:’((((((((((((

I’m so sad, I liked her. I hope we can still win her back to our side. She seemed so surprised every time we treated her decently, I think there’s a chance. She probably got into this plot before she got to know us. 

Things we know: 

Liam is the only LI who doesn’t meet you in the hedge maze if you’re his LI. On the one hand, getting the king to sneak out is a whole nother level, but also he’s likely to have a big part in next week’s plot. 

The poor guy is also still definitely in love with you, even if you softened the blow with the closure option. And he’s especially taking it hard if you’re with Drake. We’ll see how those things go together. 

Olivia disappeared! Before cake. For their plot to work, they still need her around to make her queen. She’s loyal to Liam no matter what, but I’m still holding out hope that befriending her or not is going to play a part whether that loyalty extends completely to you. 

She was also our strongest defense, what with all her knives and proclivity for stabbing. So Olivia is likely to be okay, but who knows if they will be. 

Do they have our friends? We didn’t see them after gifts. concern.

what do you think? 2 more chapters? Wrap up evil plots and then have good things, hopefully? or just keep adding chapters and then it doesn’t have to end hahaaaa 

[onisionquotes]

The Call/This Is Cray/etc

mirror of video Hi there, yeah, hi it's me. How you doin'? Hah. So, I gotta talk about the elephant in the room, the elephant you don't know is in the room, but I wanna talk about that elephant. You guys know I like sharing my personal life with you. I LOVE SHARING ITS SO FUN! It's kind of like I gossip but I dont really like gossiping about other people, I moreso enjoy gossiping about myself. So with that being said. I wanna talk about something that happened recently. First of all, my spouse manages my business emails. Laineybot [GROAN]. So after six years or uh, seven years… six sev six sev… seven years. I had somebody record videos with me a long time ago, over six years ago. And they're obviously enjoying being in the video, I mean they volunteered to be in the videos. And you know down the line that person and I, because we were dating and stuff, well I decided to end things with them and they went home to Canada. And then I decided to get back with them, for like the ninetieth[?] time and they were taking money from me so they could survive in Canada for a while, and they picked that money up that I sent to them on a regular basis with their "guy friend". But later on, one of my fans informed me that that "guy friend" who they were regularly picking up money in the car of at the money tree or whatevers in Canada. That person had actually gotten them pregnant while they were dating me and taking money from me. I, of course, fell apart and walked 6 miles to Dennys. And in that Dennys, I uh, there's nothing really that happened at Dennys I just fell apart more. I walked home, six miles or whatever, and eventually a person named Taylor my spouse put me back together. So I used to work with somebody in videos a long time ago and then they got pregnant with someone elses baby and recently I've been uploading those videos that I did with that person so long ago because even though they did that to me, even though they took my money and we were dating and then they got pregnant with someones baby. Like even though there's all that really like not-so-great feeling there, I still enjoy the art. You know, the work we did together. It's very… nice. It's wonderful really. That person was really very funny and I can see that, despite… having gone through those things with them. But I got an email, or Lainey got an email, because Lainey manages the business. And I can't show it to you, because the last time I showed you guys and email, I got in a lot of trouble on youtube. I don't know why I got in trouble, but I did. So I can't like, show screencaps anymore I just have to like, repeat them. Oh! But I will post this to the corteria[?] on onision.org/forums which only like six people have access too. It's a hidden forum within the forum. It's pretty cool. But I will post this screenshot there. Anyway, it says: "To whom it may concern, you are being advised that any and all material containing imagery, sound or likeness of that persons name is to be immediately removed from any public sites." NO. The answer is NO. Okay. You can't do that. When somebody volunteers to be in a video you can't just say "you know what, I revoke it" NO. The agreement was you are giving me property. It is mine now. There was never any talk of anything outside that. Just because it is years later and you no longer feel like "oh I love these things" you still did them, and you still volunteered yourself to be in those videos. To revoke the right for me distributing content that I made, with you as a volunteer, that is totally bonkers. If that person from over six years ago, wants to go and try take everything that's mine just because it slightly involves them, uh well, then I say you give me back the thousands of dollars that you took from me. You give me back the money I sent you when you were with that other guy, uh, you give me back all the money I spent on plane tickets for you, you give me back all the money I spent on outfits and food and housing et cetera. I think we're about… $50,000 by now? You give me back all that, and yes I will take them down. But here's the thing. I am not even really making any money off of most those videos. Reality check. And I am keeping those comedy sketches up because they're awesome and I love those comedy sketches. And I'm not going to just throw away all that wonderful stuff, because somebody who got pregnant with another persons baby while dating me, no longer enjoys the sketches as much as I do. Anyway, they say "You have not been given any rights to publish these." Yes. I was. They were in them! They were literally… UGH. Ok guys, so when you voluntarily collaborate with someone, when you play out characters in a video. Like lets say I got in a banana costume and I was featured in a DanIsNotOnFire video, or I was in a uh smosh video or I was in any of your favourite youtuber video ok? If I was in like a banana costume dancing around in the background, could you imagine just because I didnt like them anymore that I went and sent them a letter saying "you must remove all this immediately!" It just.. to me… it seems…. there's not better word than bonkerschnitzel. Tha-thats literally… its beyond bonkers. It's bonkerschnitzel to just - because you feel like it. To pretend you were never ever totally cool with being in a video and totally gave permission does not like "I JUST FILMED SOMEONE SLEEPING" it's not how it went. They say they expect to receive proof that everything is gone within five days, and it's like dude, come on. Wha? This just makes me think why do I work with anyone ever? Why do I have anyone in my videos ever? If down the line they are just gonna cause an issue. I just want to make awesome funny videos, and if I can't make an awesome funny video with someone without them worrying that later on they'll be like "I dont want this video out there anymore" its like ugh you're ruining everything!! Anyway they say if I don't comply with their demands it's going to result in a cause of action. I dont know what that means. It says I should govern myself accordingly. Again, question mark. Anyway, its cute that they think they can just pretend permission was never given to something even though it is beyond obvious that permission was given for something. But in no rational world does this hold merit. In fact I have my phone here, lets see if we can call call this guy (G = Greg, M = Manager) G: Hi I got an email that says I need to remove videos with an artist of yours. M: Yeah G: Yeah M: Greg? G: Yeah. M: This is her manager. Uh, hi Greg. G: Permission to use those videos is beyond obvious. M: uh, what is it written? Can you send me a document where she signed off to agree to do that? G: Are you saying I had a gun to her head? M: No I'm not saying I had a gun to her head, I'm asking for the agreement. Can you send it to me? Then we're good to go. G: Yeah, well to prove in any court that someone was unwillingly participating in a video I would be amazed to see that happen. M: Yeah well if you give me your address we can get to court if that's required. I'm asking you, one professional to another, uh, these videos are six years old to remove those videos completely from your site and to have some human decency to get that - G: You realise these are comedy sketches right? And when you volunteer to be in a comedy video sketch and its beyond obvious that someone is willingly volunteering in the sketch does that seem, uh, wait Ok lets be real and honest real quick ok? It's obvious she's voluntarily in the videos. It's obvious. Like there's no situation in which you say "oh that person wasnt willingly in a video?" cause they are. It's obvious! M: Oh.. ok I'm not interested in a debate - G: That's because the debate doesnt work in your favor. it's so obvious like do you understand that if somebody is doing something that they're either willingly doing it or they're not willingly doing it which means someone's holding them at ransom or something. M: okay well again - G: You know you're wrong is my point? M: Whether I'm wrong or right is not relevant to this discussion G: It's totally important. M: What I'm asking you to do is to simply take those videos down. If you wanna send me your information, if you want to escalate this, I am more than happy to escalate this to a court and lets see what they say. G: Oh my god, so you know for a fact that this person is willingly in those videos, yet you're gonna escalate this to a court because you're so dishonest? it's so obvious that somebody is in the videos willingly and you know this. Yet you're gonna try and take legal action against somebody despite the fact you are so obviously wrong? M: Greg, let me tell you something G: Just be a real human, just be a real person dude. You know they were willingly in those videos. M: So do me a favor and send me your contact information - G: you're trying to avoid the real conversation because you know you're wrong M: I'm not having this conversation because it's not a conversation I want to have G: because you're wrong. you are so wrong. you know they are voluntarily in that video. why would they be in costume? why would they be in costume? why would they be in costume, acting, playing a character unless they were voluntarily in the video? And they were compensated! They were compensated! M: if you're going to do all the talking, this is going to be a one way conversation. G: because your only response is "Send me your address" thats just creepy. M: No, I'm not asking for your address, send me your attorneys address and I'm happy to escalate this if you want too. G: why would I waste money proving on that someone was who was obviously in a video was obviously in a video voluntary? M: then simply take the videos down they're volunt- G: WHY WOULD I DO THAT WHEN I OWN THESE? Ok I paid this actor through housing, through food etc M: How much did you pay her, I'm sorry? G: Housing, food, et cetera, plane tickets, everything. M: Do you have a contract? G: Do I have proof that the person was voluntarily in the video you fucking idiot? M: No do you have a contract? G: YOU ARE A FUCKING IDIOT DUDE. THEY WERE OBVIOUSLY VOLUNTARY BECAUSE THEY'RE IN A COSTUME, THEY'RE PLAYING A ROLE. THERE'S NO GUN TO THEIR HEAD HOW FUCKING STUPID DO YOU HAVE TO BE? M: actually there was a gun in that video if i recall G: OH MY GOD YOU ARE SUCH AN IDIOT ITS OBVIOUSLY A FAKE GUN. Are you actually saying you're going to try and prove in court that they are actually held at gunpoint to do a video? You are so fucking stupid. You are a fraud. You are a fucking fraud. M: Greg, if you continue to disparage me, this conversation is over. G: you are not a real human. you're not a real human. you can't have a conversation M: Right, and the only person who has been talking is you. G: Actually you've been talking too Mr Technical. -CALL END- Alright, so that guy is a jerk [LAUGH] I have to make that whole phone call private, only patrons are going to hear it, it might not even be on there for long … patron only thing? I cant believe this. I just [exhales air] This guy, I'm on the phone with this guy. and he's literally saying this person wasn't voluntarily in there if i dont have a contract with them when they're obviously voluntarily in the video. they're in costume, they're acting out a character. Like this is the world we live in were someone who is obviously participating in something and someone is gonna be like "Well technically I'm taking this to court" ANYWAY. So I really really dont like that fella. In fact lets call him back. [VOICEMAIL] Aww he didnt answer. Darn it, anyway. So, feel free to let me know what you think in the comments. Should someone be able to revoke permission to be in a video because down the line they are no longer happy about the fact that they were in comedy sketches forever ago? Should people do that? Ugh I'm so frustrated. This is the differenc between honest, saying yeah, I volunteered to be in this video all that time ago so I can't take away that rights or anything like that, and someone who is like in the most not honest way possible, lash out at this person from so many years ago by taking away something that isn't even mine. I just can't believe that question. Is it in writing? As to whether or not that person was voluntarily in that video. Because are you not human? Can you not see with your eyes that that person is literally in costume, in character right there totally willing. Like what do they think happened? I'd like for them to explain a situation where that person wasn't voluntarily there. Like any proof whatsoever. That that person wasn't voluntarily there. if you look at comedy sketch after comedy sketch after comedy sketch, they are there, recording in different costumes and I have all the behind the scenes footage too! So I can literally prove all the conversations that we had, there was nothing except them volunteering to be there. In fact I have footage of that person asking to continue recording a video even though I had stopped recording with them, because I knew I could play the character better than they could in that scene. And they were like "no no no I wanna continue". It's one thing to have something in writing, but to have someones voice and face on film saying they want to be on video? You lost.

[virmillion]

Taxi Cab

Ok so this is a one-off thing, not related to As Above So Below, but I got the idea and couldn’t not write it. Also I’m not seasoned enough on tumblr to know the rules of tagging, so at the end I’ll put a tag list of some people I hope see it, but it won’t be the AASB list because I don’t know if you guys will actually care to read this

Ship(s): Logicality, Prinxiety (but with some of that good angst), platonic Moxiety

Warning(s): Swearing, intrusive thoughts (?), I’ll tag it as that and OCD anyway just in case because I know that’s how it is for some people, if you need anything else tagged hmu

Word Count: 8051

    The rain pours down in sheets, soaking me to my core, drenching my socks through the holes of my worn-through tennis shoes. A good twenty feet behind me, a large house seems to pulse with party music, warm light glowing through the shuttered windows and casting a bright yellow through the curtains inside. I turn up the volume in my own headphones, drowning out the house music with the sad sounds of Amber Run. Drown. What a funny word, if you think about it. Traditionally just meaning to die by over-inhalation of water, but it’s come to mean so much more, since English as a language can never just leave well enough alone. Drowning out sound with more sound, drowning in water, drowning in too much work to do, submerging anything in something else. Drown. Drroooowwwwwn. I mumble the word a few times to myself, admiring the way it boomerangs through my mouth, from teeth to lips back to my molars and jaws, then forward to lips and behind my teeth.

    The next song comes on, oddly appropriate in its name—“Waves”—only a whisper in comparison to the other one. I lift a hand to turn up the volume, ignoring the immediacy of cold and wet against the black glove encasing my hand. Vaguely, I hear someone yell something in the house, too muffled to be coming from outside. The voice clears and separates into two distinct ones, a boy and a girl, as the door opens with a bang. The pair carries on cursing at each other, until I hear angry footsteps heading away from me in either direction—the telltale clicking of high heels to my right, shuffling sneakers to my left. The door opens again, creaking and obnoxious, carrying the sounds of even more people having a good time. Without me. Not surprising. A sound of shattering glass, and the door closes.

    I suppose I should probably figure a way home from here, or at least to a place that isn’t a stupid house full of stupid people who don’t want to stupid talk to stupid me, stupid stupid stupid! On my stupid phone, I pull up the stupid uber app and request a stupid driver to take me to an unspecified stupid destination, pausing to marvel over the word stupid. I remember in elementary school, that was the sort of word to be giggled over on the building wall, watching a game of four square and whispering ‘stupid,’ praying the teachers wouldn’t notice and scold us. Well, not so much scold us as scold them. No one ever really seemed to notice me on the building wall, watching the same four square game as them, repeating the same word as them, but somehow still miles away. Stupid. Stu pid. Stew pit. Pit pit pit pit pit puh-pit puh-pit pit puh-pat puh-pat boom boom clap buh-boom buh-boom clap. I shut my eyes and hold my headphone cups, letting the rain beating down absorb into the song’s bass, nodding my head along with it. My lips stumble over the rap verses every time they come back, not trained enough to know how to keep up with the words as they trip over themselves, alliterating running sprinting bouncing everywhere.

    Beep, beep. I open my eyes, ripped from the trance of the music as a car rolls up. Bright blue, a stark highlight in the night and lit further by the house pulsing behind me. The passenger side window rolls down, and some guy in glasses leans his head across the seat to wave at me.

    “Hey buddy, I’m your uber,” he says before letting the window close. I nod, climbing in the backseat while maneuvering myself through the air above it to avoid the water. He didn’t close the window fast enough for the rain. “So where are we goin’?” I hesitate to answer, distracted by both the song change in my headphones and the sweater tied around his neck. Why doesn’t he just put it on if he’s wearing short sleeves anyway? It looks like the makeshift kilts people would wear in third grade, tying sweaters around their waists and pretending they thought it looked lame. If they really didn’t like the aesthetic, why didn’t they just wear them like normal?     “I kind of need a destination before I take off, pal,” the driver prods, turning around to look at me for a second. I wonder what he sees first. My slouched posture to disguise my height, while also avoiding a collision between my head and the ceiling? The bags under my eyes from staying up too late listening to music? Maybe he notices my sopping hoodie and hat, or my refusal to take them off now that I’m somewhere dry. If he can see really well in the dark, maybe he’ll see the tiredness behind my face, the exhaustion with daily tasks and relationships and people and thoughts and fears and—

    Wait, he asked me a question. I’m supposed to answer those, that’s a rule of being social. Or if not a rule, at least a generally required etiquette. I pull my wallet from the pocket of my hoodie and peer inside at all the money I’ve saved specially for tonight, for that party, for that party’s host. It’s not a small sum. “Anywhere. Just drive.”

    The driver clicks his teeth with a wink and a head tilt, pressing his foot on the gas and pulling away from the curb and the party and the noise and the lights and the person and everything. Just get me out of here.

    For a few treasured moments, the car bounces over potholes in silence, the only sound coming from my headphones and the car radio. Headphones, headphones, sound, I’m supposed to be doing something with these, I know it. Etiquette, something, something, rules, something, my mom, something, take those off, and I remember, pulling the headphones down to hang around my neck, the cat ears on top gently prodding into the back of the seat. As I switch off my music, descending further into the quiet, the driver cuts in over the soft sounds of Ed Sheeran on the radio.

    “So I know most people typically like to sit in silence on these things unless they’re drunk, but you just pulled down your headphones and aren’t wobbling, so I’m guessing you’re sober,” the driver says, “and I’m rather lonely tonight so I’d prefer to have more noise in this car than someone singing about perfection.” I press my lips together, tempted to pull my headphones back up and drown out his conversation. Drown, drown, drown, the word returns.

    “Anyhoodle, my name’s Patton,” the driver continues. Or Patton continues, I guess. Would it really be guess? It’s not a guess if he told me as much. Maybe it’s a guess because I don’t know if that’s really his name. I mean, if he uses words like ‘anyhoodle,’ how reliable can he really be? What kind of name is Patton, anyway? Pat on? Pat on the back? An overly enthusiastic dad looking to encourage his son with a back pat after a sporting game? “What’s yours?”

    What’s my what? My sporting game? My dad’s enthusiasm? Of its own volition, my mouth replies, “Angel,” somehow understanding the question before my mind does. Not entirely, though. Angel isn’t my name, why did I even say that? Not like I can correct it now, that’s the polar opposite end of the alphabet from my actual answer. It’s not even the right number of letters. It’s got the right number of vowels, though, and the last letter matches. Convenient, perhaps, but wrong? Absolutely. Maybe I could correct myself if I’m quick enough, but no, the driver, Patton, he’s saying more.

    “Nice to meet you, Angel. Want to tell me anything about where you’re coming from tonight?” This is it, I could redeem it, I could say my real name, demand he stop the car, apologize, walk back to the party, pretend this whole thing never happened. “It doesn’t even have to be true,” Patton says. “Just make up a story to fill the silence, or at least to drown out the radio.” Drown. Why that word? Why drown, why that word, drown drown drrooowwwwn drowning.

    He said something, asked for something, a story, make-believe, something imaginary, something not real, something I can supply. A story, a bundle of words, a stream of letters that have no real reason to exist without me stringing them together, string string strung string stirring strrriiiiiiiinging ringing bells string string drowning pull on a striiiiiiiinnnnng.

    “A made up story,” I mumble, rubbing a sore spot on my shoulder. “I can do that. Any preference?” Goddamnit, why can’t I say more than four words in a sentence? This bull from someone who took a college level English class their freshman year? Get it together.

    “How about tuh tuh tuh,” Patton says, rolling the t back and forth across his tongue, “something involving a hedgehog, a balloon, and a peacock. Any stories like that?”

    I’ve had worse prompts, most of them from myself. Maybe out of a desire to please, a shared distaste for the silence, or a sheer need to prove I can, my lips part, and a story spills from my lips, not even passing the barrier of my mind to ensure it makes sense.

    “Okay, so there’s this hedgehog, right? And he’s got this crush on this really pretty peacock, we’re talking gorgeous and stunning, but the peacock doesn’t know the hedgehog exists. They just go about their day, showing off their feathers and being great without even knowing it, but the hedgehog knows, and the hedgehog has this plan. See, it’s the peacock’s birthday, okay? And maybe they’re gonna have this party or something, I don’t know, but then they worry that they’re taking too much attention, so they cancel it, so no one has to go through the trouble of showing up to the party. And then there’s like, an internet crash or something, so the original invitation doesn’t go out for some reason, but the hedgehog doesn’t really use the internet, so he gets the invite on paper in the mail from the peacock, and he’s like, ‘this is my chance!’ So he drops by the party store and gets a balloon and asks that it’s put in a box because, y’know, spiny things that could pop the balloon, quills or whatever, and off he sets for the peacock’s party, but the peacock isn’t at the address. And so the hedgehog is like, ‘aw shoot, I know why they’re not here! It was a fake invitation, and everyone is probably laughing at me or something from behind some bushes! Ha ha, look at hedgehog, he can’t even tell when we’re making fun of him, what a loser!’ So he opens the box up and away from him, letting one of his quills poke it so it deflates slowly, in a way that he knows that somehow it won’t get to the ocean and choke a turtle because it will deflate too early, and he watches the balloon drift away. At this other fountain in the middle of town, the peacock is just chilling out, watching the clouds go by, when the deflating balloon lands on their head, so they peel it off and it’s a peacock birthday balloon! And they’re all excited and see their friend the hedgehog walking by looking all sad, so they run over to show him in excitement, their rainbow feathers all bouncy from their happiness, and the hedgehog smiles, not telling the peacock that the balloon was actually from him because he’s certain that the peacock wouldn’t be as excited if they knew it was from him. The end.” I blink, recentering myself for a second, realizing how many words I just spouted to a random stranger. Not a stranger, Patton, but still. Stranger. Strayyyyngerrrr. Stray stray cats stray dogs stray stray strayyyyy stray away stay away hey stray stay stray bay day ssstraaayyy.

    “That wasn’t a very happy ending at all!” Patton exclaims, again shaking me from my head. “Why didn’t he tell them it was his! They could have lived happily ever after with the balloon and opened a flower shop and at least been friends forever if not gotten together!”

    “I guess you could tell that story, if you wanted,” I offer with a shrug. I’m admittedly not the best at writing happy ending. A bit of a flaw, given how often people criticized my works in school for exactly that reason.

    “I’m no good at telling stories, but I really liked yours,” Patton answers, rolling the car to a stop as a light in front of us turns yellow. I watch out the window as the rain pours ever heavier, some of the droplets racing to be the first one to reach the door. Dripping down, washing away the dirt on the window, cleaning what wasn’t tainted to begin with. “Speaking of like, I love that hat you’ve got on.” I reach up to feel the still-soaking beanie on my head, a little crown going around the outside. “Isn’t that the one Jughead kid from those Archie comics?” Simply put, I don’t have the heart to tell him that it’s actually more from the overly dramatic Riverdale remake, so I just nod to placate him instead. Is it too personal to tell the guy I just met that a lot of my friends call me Jughead, too, since I never take the hat off?

    “I guess since I just made you talk so much, maybe it’s my turn to share,” Patton admits, fidgeting with the radio dial. “Are you sure you’ve got nowhere you need to be going tonight?”

    “I’m sure,” I affirm, thinking back to the house of too many brights lights, too many people, too much sound. Sound. Ssssoowwwwwwwnd. I wonder who made up the word sound, with that little ‘ow’ in the middle. Was sound too much for them, too? Did they wear a hat to help block out some sound? Ow-t, S-ow-nd, ow ow ow, pain and suffering from something everyone else can tolerate perfectly fine? A word of soft noises, small vowels and close consonants, save for the one ‘s’ at the beginning, clipped and harsh and loud. Loud out sound vowel ow ow ow ow.

    “In that case, we’re stopping at a coffee house. Don’t worry, I won’t run this against your costs,” Patton decides, jerking the wheel to get in the left turn lane. My heart leaps into my throat, immediate terror at the thought of the car careening off of the road, spinning over a chunk of winter ice, made slick by the rain, a flipping car over road barriers setting grass ablaze with yelling and sirens and crying and only thoughts of hedgehogs and peacocks and balloons left to linger behind with no words to bring those thoughts to life only sounds and drowning drown ow ow too damn loud too damn fast and too much and spinning flipping tumbling whipping—

    “Hey, Angel, you okay?” Patton asks, twisting around in the driver’s seat as cars whiz by on the left, no openings to turn in sight. I flash him a thumbs up, shaking my head a little bit to force the image of a smashed car out of my mind. What seems like eons later, as the car fills with tension and the sound of rain thumping the roof and Kesha singing about prayers, an opening finally reveals itself, allowing Patton to pull the car into a drive through at some coffee place, where he orders himself some long and complicated drink before looking back to ask what I want.

    “Oh, no, that’s okay, I don’t really need—”

    “I insist.” Judging by the look in his eyes, I’m pretty sure this is a non-negotiable request on Patton’s end.

    “Just a black coffee.” Patton repeats the order to the little black box, not seeming to mind how wet his hair is getting from the rain slanting into the car. He pulls forward, paying at the window and tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel to the music while he waits for some underpaid barista to bring our drinks out. With the lights shining down from the building’s roof, I can see a slight tint of purple to Patton’s hair, while the sides are still brown. Funny, my hair is done almost the same way, just with longer bangs. Honestly, so many people downplay the pros of bangs, and how well they work at blocking out others when you want to be alone. Especially when those others don’t understand what a raised middle finger and loud headphones mean.

    “Here you go, Angel,” Patton says, passing back a large cup with steam drifting from the opening on top. I take a large swig, relishing the feeling as my throat burns in protest, the heat passing all the way down, so hot it’s almost cold, but still bitter enough to sting. Bitter enough to remind me I can still feel something.

    “So anyway, I said it was my turn to tell a story, right?” Patton maneuvers the car through an overcrowded parking lot and onto a back road, considerably less traffic-heavy than the one we took to get in. “I’ll be honest, I’m not great at imagination, so I guess I’ll just tell you about my day, sound good? I mean, if you don’t really want to talk anymore, that’s fine, but I can’t stand sitting in silence, so if I’m bothering you too much, feel free to listen to your headphones. Those are really cool, by the way. I love the cat ears, and how the ears and cups both glow.”

    “Thanks,” I reply, leaving the headphones around my neck to admire the color flashing from them. “The ears are actually speakers.”

    “Shut up, that is so cool!” Patton exclaims, actually slamming the breaks to whip around and look at the headphones again. The relief I feel that we aren’t on a main road is indescribable. “Show me!” I smile a little, pressing a button to switch the output from the ear cups to the cat ear speakers, letting a song about battle scars play from them. “That is so much better than the radio, and I am absolutely on board with having your speakers as the music for the rest of the ride if you don’t mind.” When I don’t turn the volume back off or make a rude comment about it or something, Patton smiles bigger before pressing on the gas again.

    “Anyhoodle, so my day. So I woke up bright and early this morning to make breakfast for my partner, Logan, who is just fantastic, let me tell you. He’s got these glasses like mine that he refuses to get resized, so they’re always falling down his nose, and this one tie he wears all the time that’s really nice that he’s always adjusting, so I got him this present that’s like chapstick but you rub it on your nose so your glasses don’t fall down! Cute, right?”

    “Cute,” I agree, half listening as I toy with the word. Cute. Half of those letters don’t even belong there like that. Cute. Kyoot. Seventy five percent of them, even! A single direction word, too, from the back of my mouth to my lips. Direction, like a vector. Vector the villain, because he has both direction and magnitude. Vector. Vvvectorrr, with di-rection, and mmmag-nitude! Vector isn’t cute, but vectors as objects can be kyoot, or used to create something kyoot cute boot noot doot snoot. Why do ‘oot’ words get to be cute things? What about other sounds? Like lamp, or elbow, why don’t those words get to mean cute? Who decided that? Maybe words like bounce and blanket feel left out, underappreciated.

    Patton hasn’t stopped rambling, maybe not even noticing my derailed train of thought, as he blathers on, “I made him toast this morning with coffee, and he didn’t seem too impressed, but then I brought out the Crofter’s jelly for him to spread on his food, and you would have thought I’d given him the remains of the Library of Alexandria! He talks about that a lot too, but don’t worry, I love hearing anything he has to say. He had this big research deal he was supposed to finish tonight and said I had to be somewhere that wasn’t near him for tonight, but that’s okay because he’s just really blunt, so I got on uber so I could talk to someone else!” I give a nod to confirm that I’m still listening, at least for the most part. Still most listening. Why doesn’t ‘st’ get to make a sound in listening? Why is the ‘t’ silenced there, but not in the other two? Maybe it’s because listening stays centered, it only moves once, from the middle of my mouth to the back for the quiet ‘g,’ but even that isn’t true—I could fade out on the second ‘n,’ and it would still be understood what word I was saying.

    “Do you have anyone special you might see tonight?” Patton asks, evidently done gushing about Logan. Frankly, I could listen to it the whole car ride. I’ve never seen anyone so enthusiastic about something as Patton is about this guy. They must really care for each other. Gosh, I hope they do. One source of shining light in this dreary rain is all I’m asking for. “I know you said you don’t have anywhere to be tonight, but I don’t want to send you to an empty house alone or anything. At the very least, maybe you could come hang out with Logan and me?” Before I can politely decline, Patton rescinds the offer. “You know what, that’s a bad idea. I’m just some uber driver, that’s probably really suspicious, and I’d hate to make you uncomfortable or nervous. Truthfully, I just like to be able to see someone’s face when I talk to them. Would you mind terribly moving to the front, just for my own sense of security? I know that’s not the typical arrangement in this sort of car service, but still.” Rather than answer as he stops the car, I undo my seatbelt and pull the door handle twice, slipping around quickly to the front seat. Despite my speed, I’m still soaking from the three seconds I spent outside, leaving my to wring the hem of my shirt over the floor as I buckle myself in.

    “There’s your face!” Patton exclaims, smiling brightly. “I love the hair, by the way.” He indicates my matching mop with a laugh, before sipping lightly at his frozen coffee. I glance to the backseat, where I forgot my own cup of black coffee. Not worth it anyway, it’s already almost empty. I’ll grab it when I get out to throw it away. I wonder when I’ll decide to tell Patton where to take me. I wonder where I’ll tell him to take me.

    “Now that that’s settled, you can’t expect me to believe there’s no one expecting you tonight? No family, no dates, no nothing? I saw that party behind you when I picked you up, don’t tell me you wandered to there by coincidence?” I avoid most of Patton’s questions, deciding to share the happier parts of myself with him. Besides, it’s not like I’ll see him again, so what’s the harm in sharing? With any luck, most of my words will get drowned out by the music drifting out of my headphones.

    “So there’s this guy,” I begin, already interrupted by Patton’s squeals.

    “The peacock?”

    “The peacock,” I confirm. “So the peacock—”

    “Oh come on, what’s their name?” Patton pleads. For some reason, I suddenly don’t want to tell him that much. I never told him my real name, why would I share this person’s?

    “We’ll just call him Russ,” I concede. Just like his name, another empire, only shortened. “So I met Russ in elementary school—we had the same last name, super common, so we were put next to each other on every seating chart. That’s how I met most of my closest friends, actually.” All two of them. “He was one of those cool kids, the ones that stuck to the building’s wall at recess, so I hung out over there, too, trying to look cool with them. Didn’t really work, but I got to watch him from afar more because of it. He was pretty easy on the eyes, but his English skills were shit. I wasn’t very good either, but I studied it like crazy so I could help him with it.” I smile a little at the memory, five year old me frantically reading every wikipedia article and big textbook I could find to extend my vocabulary and grammar skills, just to impress one guy. I’m not surprised he never really liked me, looking back on it now.

    “Funny, Logan’s kind of like my own Russ,” Patton admits. “He’s really into anything to do with learning, but he really loves astronomy, so I always try to find more fun facts about it so we have something to bond over. Sometimes, he’ll even come into the kitchen while I’m baking or cooking or something, and talk about all the origins and uses of each of the ingredients. It sounds like utter gibberish to me, but he’s really trying, and I love that about him.”

    “That’s really nice, actually,” I say, watching my thumbs chase each other in my lap. “I don’t know that Russ has ever returned my attempts to connect with him, but that’s okay. One time, he said that my shirt looked nice, which was cool, I guess. My mom had just finally ripped my hoodie away from me, so I didn’t have anything to cover up.” Remembering, I pull my sleeves down further to cover my palms, ignoring the slight lingering dampness. “It seemed a little backhanded, like he thought the hoodie was silly, but I didn’t mind. He never really said anything else.”

    “Oh, kiddo,” Patton mumbles, glancing sideways at me with pity in his eyes. I hate pity, but I’m just pathetic enough to still crave the comfort without the embarrassment. Just a simple hug, even a little acknowledgement, but not here, not from Patton. “Listen, if you need me to—”

    The car swerves suddenly, the front end wrenching to the left, as the wheels skid across the road. Black ice from the rain over the freezing ground. I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my jaw, inhaling sharply as the world spins around me, coffee flying, a yell, air hissing over teeth, a cried name. When everything stops wobbling, finally at a standstill, I hesitantly open my eyes, terrified of what I might see—a flipped car, animals, Patton, no Patton, a partial Patton—but it’s just the windshield, rain still beating down, and and outstretched arm—wait, two arms. Somewhere beyond my consciousness or will, I whipped out my arm to hold Patton against the seat, to try to protect him, which he’d evidently also done, as I look at the hand pressing against my chest. We both pant softly, slowly glancing around us and outside the car. The only damage done is Patton’s spilled coffee—the rest of the road is empty, and we both appear unharmed.

    “Are you okay?” I ask, turning to face him. The last thing I need is for him to be hurt, one more problem that I caused, one more thing I can’t fix, oh God this is my fault what do I do—

    “I’m fine, I promise, but what about you?” Patton pleads, “are you okay? I can’t believe I didn’t see that ice, with all this cold weather and now the rain, I should have been more careful, I’m so sorry—”

    “Patton, hey,” I say, trying to calm him down. I press a hand to his chest, lifting it lightly to indicate when to breathe. “We’re good, yeah?”     “We’re good,” he sighs. “We’re good.” Finally, he looks me in the eyes, and something in his face, the trembling lip, the wobbly eyes, that little bit of snot trying to fall out of his nose, makes something bubble inside me. I open my mouth, about to reassure both him and myself, but the something rises, growing and filling from my stomach past my heart and into my throat and over my tongue and I’m laughing, gut-wrenching laughter, uncontrolled and spilling out and filling the car and I can’t stop and Patton joins me and we’re just two weirdos on an abandoned road in a bright blue car in pouring rain laughing our butts off as some cat headphones sing a song of drops in oceans. Through his laughter, Patton manages to eek out, “maybe we should get going, before someone else shows up.”

    “Maybe,” I agree, leaning back into my seat. “Tell me more about Logan. How did you meet?”

    “He was arguing with some barista at the coffee house I always went to. He showed up every day, three in the afternoon on the dot, asking for a medium black coffee. I don’t think I know when he started, he was always just a fixture. One day, there’s this new guy working there, and he doesn’t get what Logan means. What kind of nut orders plain black coffee when you can have a bunch of special fixins like caramel and hazelnut and vanilla?” Patton laughs again, smaller this time, wiping a hand across his eyelid. “I guess I should’ve known then, when they called him a nut, right in front of everyone there. To myself, I whispered, ‘a hazelnut?’ but I guess he heard me, because he storms on over after placing his coffee order and slams a hand down. He goes, ‘did you seriously call me a hazelnut,’ and of course I admitted to it. ‘Explain,’ he said, so I did, that it was a dad joke. This guy, something in his eyes wanted to laugh, I swear it, but he just stared at me for a second before heading back to the counter where his plain black coffee was ready, and out the door he went.

    “The next day, he’s back in the same outfit at the same time, but I’m ready today. As he passes by my counter table with his plain black coffee, I poke him on the arm and hold out a closed fist. Into this guy’s hand I drop a hazelnut, then return to my fancy iced drink and people watching. He says nothing, just vanishing out the door to wherever he goes, and I do the same thing the next day, and the next, and the next. After maybe a month of me giving him hazelnuts, this guy finally takes a seat across from me at the counter.” Patton smiles as he recalls it, running his thumbnail over his fingers while keeping the other hand on the wheel. I smile back to myself, enjoying Patton’s story as it fills the car, battling with the rain outside. The car radio, silent, informs me that it’s almost midnight already. Hm.

    “He sits down and says, total deadpan, ‘why.’ So of course I say ‘because you’re a hazelnut.’ He didn’t seem to love that. ‘My name is Logan,’ he tells me, fixing his glasses to sit higher on his nose. ‘I am not a hazelnut.’ ‘Neither am I,’ I tell him, ‘but here we are, anyway.’ This Logan guy kind of looked at me for a second before leaning back in his chair. I ask the obvious question, ‘why have you never sat down before,’ and he goes, ‘today is my day off, so I decided to do something interesting. Talking to you is more than sufficient.’ Let me tell you, that absolutely sold me on this guy. I gave him the hazelnut, and he was off on his merry way, but for every day after that, he kept sitting down with me. I loved it. We got to talking a little more—he knew a lot of fun facts about everything—until one day he gave me a hazelnut! And this one had a piece of paper taped to it with a phone number, so of course I texted it, expecting it to be his number, right? But no, it was to this free subscription number that sends out a random fun fact every day! Adorable.” I grin, already pulling out my phone to enter the number as Patton recites it from memory. “One thing led to another, I finally got his actual number, and here we are now, happily ever after.”

    “That sounds awesome,” I admit. “I wish I could talk to Russ that much, but I don’t think he knows I exist. Your story sounds perfect.”

    “Not perfect,” Patton sighs.

    “A lot better than mine.”

    We wallow in self pity like that for a while, letting the drumming of the rain take over again. Drum buh bum, hum duh dum, drum duh-duh dum bum bum bum bum. Boom buh duh dum bum bum bum bum, boom buh duh dum bum bum bum bum. Maybe if I’d ever pursued something outside of English, he’d actually notice me. Music, maybe, so I could be his backup in all those musicals he does. But no, just English, and here I am now, years later, and no closer to him than I am to finished one of many incomplete books. Just wasted potential that no one asked for, and no one wants to keep.

    Patton starts with a whisper, slowly crescendoing as the music from my headphones picks up. “I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad,” he mumbles. Without my consent, my voice joins him, an undercurrent lifting his own up to carry over the tides of the rain, calling out into an empty night of clouds and rain and memories, “the dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had.” Soon enough, a tear spills over my eye, angry and sad and lost and alone but with Patton but still gone unwanted but unbidden and hopeless and missing but just a little bit found, and I’m yelling and Patton is yelling and we’re both drowning out the world in singing that neither of us asked for but both of us needed, “I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take, when people run in circles it’s a very very,” and our voices are screaming and my throat is running ragged and tears are streaming down my cheeks and I want to stop but I can’t but I don’t mind as we carry on pitying the “mad world, mad world.”

    The song’s piano taps out, drifting into silence and allowing the ringing of our voices to fill the car, a feeling that neither of us wants to break as the rain beats louder, louder, louder, and I’m in a car with a stranger dumping all of my feelings for no reason but it doesn’t matter because we both did and I might not know his life but that’s okay because maybe I don’t know my own.

    “Sorry,” we both mumble, before rushing to say, “no, don’t be sorry, really, I just, stop copying me!”

    “Why don’t, um, why don’t you tell me more about Russ?” Patton asks, gripping his hands on the wheel and not looking at me. I nod once, twice, before starting far beyond elementary school.

    “It wasn’t the complete truth when I said that he never noticed me,” I breathe out, wiping a tear stain from my cheek with the sleeve of my hoodie, which only serves to make it more wet as I realize too late how drenched the jacket still is. “We both did marching band in high school, him in the saxophones and me in color guard, so we got to see each other a little more there. Not too much, since the winds were separated from the guard were separated from percussion a lot, but still. I didn’t get made fun of too much for being a guy in the color guard, but I was definitely the only one. Anyway, he messages me one night for relationship advice, asking if it was weird to always be thinking about the same person he liked all the time—a girl, mind you. I replied something like ‘that isn’t weird, that’s how it is for me sometimes,’ which was the wrong thing to say, let me tell you.” I still have that conversation on my phone, actually. I look back at it sometimes when I’m feeling particularly masochistic. “Usually those conversations go away after opening them—it was on snapchat, by the way—but he’s one of those people that saves everything in the chat. Anyway, he moves over to text messages, which are, y’know, more permanent, and he’s like ‘wait who do you like?’ So of course I stall because it’s not like I can tell him, but I’m weak so eventually he gets it out of me and by some miracle he asked if I wanted to be his boyfriend.” I sniffle a little, remembering how happy I was for that one moment. Everything seemed right, we were finally together, I had finally gotten my happy ending. “Not a lot changed after that conversation, we just had an empty title full of empty promises. We’d walk back from the football field after practices together and hold hands and I was actually happy for once, but then school starts, so football games start, so the marching band goes to play at halftime, and as someone in guard, I had to do basic eyeliner eyeshadow stuff to match the uniform, right? So I go in the bathroom before one game, and Russ is in there, and I wave hi with a big smile because I love to see him, and he asks to talk to me outside the bathroom, which everyone knows is a bad sign, so he takes me outside and he’s like ‘look I just don’t think that you want what you think you want’ and now he’s like ‘oh actually it’s not gonna work’ so my only thought is that I can’t start crying or else my makeup will run before this football game and that’s not the end of it because then he goes ‘also I got tickets to this concert for my birthday do you wanna go’ and obviously I say yes because I’m weak and have no willpower and then my pathetic self goes ‘can we still be friends’ and he’s like ‘of course’ but then he leaves without a hug or a reason or anything and he still thinks it’s normal what our so called friendship is but every night I cry myself to sleep because I had the one thing I wanted most but I had to go and fuck it up.” I let out a shuddering gasp, my hands shaking and the car suddenly silent. The rain rushes down from the sky, pouring out everything as it beats against the car of the roof. I wish I could beat it back.

    “Hey, Angel, buddy, look at me,” Patton says. In spurts, I take in my surroundings, grounding myself in the present again. The car isn’t moving, the moon is peeking nervously over a veil of clouds, the rain is never ending, Patton is here, and Patton is real. “It’s gonna be okay, buddy. I’ll go beat up that stupid Russ kid if you want.” Stupid again. Stupid stupid stuuupiiiid stew pit.

    I give a vehement head shake, no, knowing without reaching up that my cheeks are a burning shade of red. What kind of loser can’t keep his stupid emotions in check enough to not give his entire stupid backstory to a complete stupid stranger? Stupid me, that’s who. This guy probably doesn’t even care about me, he’s just the unlucky uber driver that got stuck driving me around the whole city just because I’m an indecisive, whiny little snot.

    “Well, it’s not exactly as good as me punching that kid in the face,” Patton begins, “but I could tell you how I’m not perfect either. Just today, in fact, I told you that Logan asked me to leave, but it was less of a friendly agreement than him yelling at me for interrupting his work with cookies I made.” He laughs a little, tapping the steering wheel with his palm. “I think he was so preoccupied, he didn’t notice that I wrote ‘good job’ all over them in different languages.” I glance over at Patton, still sniffling heavily, but grateful for the distraction. This random person, who didn’t even know me before a couple hours ago, is baring his soul and personal life just for my own comfort and security. “One time, he had this really big project to finish that he was talking about at the coffee place, and he showed it to me and was talking about how nervous he was, so the next day I brought him cookies baked with hazelnut. I don’t think he’s ever smiled as big as he did when he took one and told me about how well the presentation went.” Patton bites his lip and looks back at me, and seeing that I’ve finally calmed down enough to make intelligible conversation, invites me to share some happier thoughts to pass the time.

    “One time, he took me to this roller coaster park, and his first demand upon hearing that I’d never been before was to take me on the biggest, fastest coaster,” I start, letting the story warp me away from this car, from the rain, from everything now that seems to be getting worse. “I wasn’t very nervous or anything, but he must have mistaken my discomfort with so many people for being scared of heights, so he leans over and tells me to count how long it took the car to get to the top while we watched in line. Then, when we boarded, he said to count to the same number but slower this time, so that by the time I reached it, we were already at the top, so I wouldn’t have to worry about how much longer it would take to speed up.” That was a really fun day, actually. Maybe worth a few more tales for Patton before I tell him where I should really be tonight. “At one point, he could tell all the crowds of loud people were getting to me, so he takes me over to the games and wins me a giant stuffed elephant, one of the good soft ones, not the kind that’s really stiff and cheap.” That elephant is still on my bed, given as a prize when I couldn’t beat the game myself. “I know it’s really cheesy and lame, but I actually did have a lot of fun just being his friend that day. He still thinks everything is cool between us, and talks a bunch about his latest crushes, like he doesn’t know how much it hurts. I don’t think he realizes that every word out of his mouth is a dagger to my heart.”

    “Aw, kiddo,” Patton sighs, at a loss for any better words of consolation. “Look, I know you said to just get you away from that house, but are you sure there’s nowhere you need to be tonight? With today being so special as it is—”

    “I’m sure,” I cut in. Even if he’s just trying to help, I don’t need him to be worried for me. I’m perfectly fine as I am. “I mean, if you need to be home tonight, you can just drop me off anywhere and I’ll walk back or something, or find another uber person. I won’t rate you down or anything.”

    “That’s not what I’m worried about, Angel,” Patton says. “I don’t care about my driver ratings, I just need to make sure you get somewhere safe tonight. You really can’t be certain of anyone’s trustworthiness out there on a night like tonight. In the pouring rain, any trace of you might vanish with the water.” Vanish. Vaaaaaanissssh. Vaaaaain. Vaaanityyyyyy. Vaaapid. Vaaague. Veeeengennnnce. V. V. V. V. Vvvvvvv.

    “I won’t vanish,” I mutter, turning to look out the window. The rain hasn’t let up at all. Maybe if I stand outside in it without moving, I’ll melt and drown and wash away into the sewers and live on as water that no one has to bother with and I won’t have to see him anymore and everything will be the way it’s supposed to be without a glitch in the system like me screwing everything up.

    “I can’t be certain of that until I see you inside of a house safely with someone I know you trust, even if it’s that Russ loser,” Patton insists. I want to argue that Russ isn’t a loser, that he’s amazing and gorgeous and all of that, but if that’s true, why can’t I tell him as much? Oh, right, because I’m stupid. How do I keep forgetting that?

    “Okay, just, just turn right up here,” I say, pointing to an upcoming light. Another car waits to turn left, the first we’ve seen since stopping for coffee. I’d almost forgotten this wasn’t just a special world of a car, Patton, and me, sealed off from everyone else who could pop our bubble of solitude.

    Patton complies, following each of my directions as I lead him around the city, back to where this whole mess started. Too quickly, but also not soon enough, we’re back at the house of bright lights and sound and people and partying, but it isn’t the same house, either. The harsh yellow lights are all out except for one, glowing a soft golden in the night and illuminating the raindrops, seeming to freeze them in the air. The sound is gone, the party and people have cleared out, just the one window framing the door, inviting me back in. The light is splintered through as the door opens a little, allowing someone to slip outside. A boy, dressed in red and white, his hair shot through with purple, and even from here, I can almost see the warm light reflecting in his brown eyes.

    “The peacock?” Patton asks.

    “The peacock.”

    The peacock spreads his arms, stepping further out of the door in a show of peace, an unmet embrace.

    “If you don’t want to stay here,” Patton begins, but I shake my head, sliding my headphones around my neck and pulling my beanie lower over my ears. With no small amount of awkwardness, I give Patton a one-armed hug before pulling the door handle twice and stepping into the torrential downpour outside. He rolls down the window and leans out with a wave as I back up to the sidewalk, my phone already out to pay him.

    “It’s on the house,” he calls, tapping away on his own screen. I don’t know how he does it, but my phone shows the ride having been paid for. Huh. “And Angel?”

    “Yeah?” I say, halting on my way to the door.

    “Merry Christmas!”

    “It’s Virgil,” I correct with a smile and wave. “Merry Christmas. I hope the thing with Logan solves itself.”

    “Virgil. I like that. You too, with that Russ peacock guy.”

    “Roman,” I sigh, looking back at the offending figure at the door, his arms still open wide.

    “Virgil,” Roman murmurs at the door, wrapping me up tightly. “I thought you’d been kidnapped or something, I sent everyone home and was about to send out a search party, you weren’t answering your texts or calls or anything—”

    “I blocked you,” I admit, showing him as much on my phone. “Sorry.”

    “I don’t care,” Roman replies, hugging me closer and pulling me inside, out of the rain. I turn back for one last glance as Patton drives away, and I don’t think I have to imagine the smile on his face. As the door clicks shut, I remember.

    I forgot my coffee cup in the backseat.

Tag List (basically just some people that I hope see this and don’t hate it):

@asexual-trashbag @princeyandanxiety @prinxietys @tinysidestrashcaptain @notafeeling @the-prince-and-the-emo

[marauders70s]

#9. Fred & George Weasley [17/25]

"Oh, are you a prefect, Percy?" said one of the twins, with an air of great surprise. "You should have said something, we had no idea." "Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it," said the other twin. "Once-” "Or twice-" "A minute-" "All summer-" "Oh, shut up," said Percy the Prefect.

‘Merry Christmas!’ ‘Hey, look – Harry’s got a Weasley jumper, too!’ Fred and George were wearing blue jumpers, one with a large yellow F on it, the other with a large yellow G. ‘Harry’s is better than ours, though,’ said Fred, holding up Harry’s jumper. ‘She obviously makes more of an effort if you’re not family.’ ‘Why aren’t you wearing yours, Ron?’ George demanded. ‘Come on, get it on, they’re lovely and warm.’ ‘I hate maroon,’ Ron moaned half-heartedly as he pulled it over his head. ‘You haven’t got a letter on yours,’ George observed, ‘I suppose she thinks you don’t forget your name. But we’re not stupid – we know we’re called Gred and Forge.’

Fred and George, however, found all this very funny. They went out of their way to march ahead of Harry down the corridors, shouting, ‘Make way for the heir of Slytherin, seriously evil wizard coming through …’ Percy was deeply disapproving of this behaviour. ‘It is not a laughing matter,’ he said coldly. ‘Oh, get out of the way, Percy,’ said Fred, ‘Harry’s in a hurry.’ ‘Yeah, he’s nipping off to the Chamber of Secrets for a cup of tea with his fanged servant,’ said George, chortling.

‘Oh, that,’ said Ginny, giggling. ‘Well – Percy’s got a girlfriend.’ Fred dropped a stack of books on George’s head. ‘What?’ … ‘You won’t tease him, will you?’ she added anxiously. ‘Wouldn’t dream of it,’ said Fred, who was looking as if his birthday had come early. ‘Definitely not,’ said George, sniggering.

‘Harry!’ said Fred, elbowing Percy out of the way and bowing deeply. ‘Simply splendid to see you, old boy –’ ‘Marvellous,’ said George, pushing Fred aside and seizing Harry’s hand in turn. ‘Absolutely spiffing.’ Percy scowled. 

George: ‘We tried to shut him in a pyramid,’ he told Harry. ‘But Mum spotted us.’

‘The Ministry’s providing a couple of cars,’ said Mr. Weasley. Everyone looked up at him. ‘Why?’ said Percy, curiously. ‘It’s because of you, Perce,’ said George seriously. ‘And there’ll be little flags on the bonnets, with HB on them –’ ‘– For Humongous Bighead,’ said Fred. Everyone except Percy and Mrs. Weasley snorted into their pudding. 

‘What are we doing [in the chimney]? Has something gone wrong?’ ‘Oh, no, Ron,’ came Fred’s voice, very sarcastically. ‘No, this is exactly where we wanted to end up.’ 

‘Yeah, someone might slip dragon dung in it again, eh, Perce?’ said Fred. ‘That was a sample of fertiliser from Norway!’ said Percy, going very red in the face. ‘It was nothing personal!’ ‘It was,’ Fred whispered to Harry, as they got up from the table. ‘We sent it.’ 

‘Anyone can speak Troll,’ said Fred dismissively, ‘all you have to do is point and grunt.’ 

‘Don’t be a prat, Neville, that’s illegal,’ said George. ‘They wouldn’t use the Cruciatus curse on the champions. I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing… maybe you’ve got to attack him while he’s in the shower, Harry.’

‘Who’re you going with then?’ asked Ron. ‘Angelina,’ said Fred promptly, without a trace of embarrassment. ‘What?’ said Ron, taken aback. ‘You’ve already asked her?’ ‘Good point,’ said Fred. He turned his head and called across the common room, ‘Oi! Angelina!’ Angelina, who had been chatting to Alicia Spinnet near the fire, looked over at him. ‘What?’ she called back. ‘Want to come to the ball with me?’ Angelina gave Fred an appraising sort of look. ‘All right, then,’ she said, and turned back to Alicia and carried on chatting, with a bit of a grin on her face. ‘There you go,’ said Fred to Harry and Ron, ‘piece of cake.’

‘Hello, Harry,’ said George, beaming at him. ‘We thought we heard your dulcet tones.’ ‘You don’t want to bottle up your anger like that, Harry, let it all out,’ said Fred, also beaming. ‘There might be a couple of people fifty miles away who didn’t hear you.’

‘Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?’ enquired George, pulling a long and lethal-looking metal instrument from inside one of the Zonko’s bags. ‘Or any part of your body, really, we’re not fussy where we stick this,’ said Fred.

‘But you get these massive pus-filled boils, too,’ said George, ‘and we haven’t worked out how to get rid of them yet.’ ‘I can’t see any boils,’ said Ron, staring at the twins. ‘No, well, you wouldn’t,’ said Fred darkly, ‘they’re not in a place we generally display to the public.’ 

and finally, this iconic scene:

Umbridge: ‘You two,’ she went on, gazing down at Fred and George , ‘are about to learn what happens to wrong-doers in my school.’ ‘You know what?’ said Fred. ‘I don’t think we are.’ He turned to his twin. ‘George,’ said Fred, ‘I think we’ve outgrown full-time education.’ ‘Yeah, I’ve been feeling that way myself,’ said George lightly. ‘Time to test our talents in the real world, d’ you reckon?’ asked Fred. ‘Definitely,’ said George. And before Umbridge could say a word, they raised their wands and said together: ‘Accio brooms!’ … ‘We won’t be seeing you,’ Fred told Professor Umbridge, swinging his leg over his broomstick. ‘Yeah, don’t bother to keep in touch,’ said George, mounting his own. Fred looked around at the assembled students, and at the silent, watchful crowd. ‘If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley — Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes,’ he said in a loud voice, ‘Our new premises!’ ‘Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they’re going to use our products to get rid of this old bat,” added George, pointing at Professor Umbridge. ‘STOP THEM!’ shrieked Umbridge, but it was too late. As the Inquisitorial Squad closed in, Fred and George kicked off from the floor, shooting fifteen feet into the air, the iron peg swinging dangerously below. Fred looked across the hall at the poltergeist bobbing on his level above the crowd. ‘Give her hell from us, Peeves.’ And Peeves, who Harry had never seen take an order from a student before, swept his belled hat from his head and sprang to a salute as Fred and George wheeled about to tumultuous applause from the students below and sped out of the open front doors into the glorious sunset.

[explanation] alright, alright, i know I posted wayyyyy too many quotes, but honestly fred & george are some of my favorite harry potter characters of all time, and I still cackled rereading these. I grew up lowkey in love with Fred Weasley (and still captain my proud little Fredmione ship). More than that, I love what good brothers the twins were. It doesn’t seem it at first, but please consider that Harry was their brother as much as Ron. They watched out for him during quidditch games, made fun of the people making fun of him, stuck up for him when people called him a liar, and were generally the kind of witty, kind, and ride or die loyal people who you could count on to get you out of an abusive situation - even if they had to steal a car to do it. There aren’t many people you can count on for things like that. I will never, ever forgive J.K. for killing Fred, and in a way killing George. The Weasley twins were no more...only one brother, left without his whole self in more ways than an ear. 

25 Days of “It wouldn’t feel like Harry Potter without…”