#no bee movie rant right away unfortunately

[pb-dot]

Film Friday: No, Thanos is not Right, and did in fact, do Quite A lot Of Wrong

(Warning: This one is loooooooooong)

Another Essay this week, and I've chosen to go back in time a couple of years. The target year this time is the halcyon days of 2019, back when I still gave a shit about the MCU, when the ongoing energy of the Marvel movies still pushed engagement forward. You didn't have to watch all of the movies, but they were for the most part fairly well made and there were enough references and jokes that relied on them that you kinda wanted to anyway. Granted, they worked their CGI guys pretty hard, there was a certain cynical glibness to the humor, and their politics weren't great, but these problems had not metastasized into the massive fucksy-doos they are today yet. These were good days to like zoom punch action stories, and it was all leading up to something. The confrontation between Earth's Mightiest Heroes and the Objectively Scariest And Evilest Guy. The Mad Titan, Thanos who wants to kill half of the universe for... reasons.

Backstory and Adaptation, Or; You Can't Have a Big Titted Skeleton Nowadays

For the uninitiated, Thanos was a relatively big deal in Marvel Comic history. The Mad Titan, to put it plainly, LOVES Death. Now to be clear, when I say Thanos loves death, I don't mean that in the abstract "oh, motherfucker just loves killing" way. He is romantically attracted to the anthropomorphic representation of Death, who at the time was most often represented as a big-titted skeleton, although more conventionally attractive Goth Girl variants are available depending on who's illustrating.

Now how would a big purple demigod man from Saturn's moon Titan go about wooing a fundamental aspect of the universe like that? There's always dying an reincarnating a lot, but that seems risky even in a universe where the afterlife seemingly has revolving doors. No, Thanos decides that a way better way to get Death-Sempai to notice him is to kill a LOT of people. Now obviously you can't kill the entire universe because 1: that would include yourself which isn't ideal, and 2: if everyone's dead nobody will get born and thus nobody will ever die again, which one has to imagine Death would not be too chuffed about.

So, what grand gesture does the ube-colored kronian lad settle on? Why of course, gathering five artifacts of immense cosmic power, the Infinity Stones, and using their combined magic juice to kill half of the universe's population with a literal snap of his fingers, which he does. Now, thanks to some internal family politics and the appearance of one Adam Warlock this whole thing got undone, but it was a pretty big deal for the duration.

So, Thanos is one of those larger-than-life fuckers that's just hard to structure a modern story around because of the sheer byzantine bombast that surrounds him. To have a true-to-comics version, you have to introduce Mistress Death, as the big-titted skeleton is often called, and the worldbuilding implications of that, the thing that makes Thanos purple also makes him one of the Eternals so you have to introduce all of that business, the sheer cosmic vastness of the Infinity Gems (née Soul Gems) requires a bunch of explaining, and when it all comes down to it his plan is kind of shit.

Like, this isn't a joke. Thanos has one goal and one goal only and that's to clap some skeleton cheeks, and he doesn't even succeed. Notorious self-aware joke-man Deadpool starts developing a relationship to Mistress Death, which is a thing that can happen if characters meet up a lot, and few are as experienced with exploring dying and getting better than ol' Mr. Pool. Of course, Thanos curses Deadpool to never be able to truly die since he can't have this Undying Chucklefuck upstage him, but it only further underlines how entirely Thanos doesn't succeed. He's a bit of an incel, really, cooking up these grand romantic gestures for a person he isn't really in a relationship with.

Now, I don't know for a fact that there is some sort of editorial fiat in the MCU stating that villains have to be critical of one aspect of society but be Too Extreme About it as opposed to our Good Liberal Heroes Who are Just Right About Every Social Issue, but it certainly fits as an explanation for why that keeps happening. My point is, there isn't really a greater point about society being made with Thanos here, my heroic stretch to try to make it fit in the schemas of gender and sexuality politics in society as interpreted by the Profoundly Deranged notwithstanding. So, what do you do? Why, you make this lumpy space potato man an ecofascist, of course.

Ecofascism, Or; When All You Have Is A Hammer Everything is a Nail

Ecofascism is a relatively recent term, but the trend that it is built upon is as old as fascism itself. In essence, I would describe it as using enviromentalist rhetoric and buzzwords to further an agenda of authoritarian discriminatory and genocidal politics. You see this idea pop up a lot. There's too many people on earth, and just everyone can reproduce which is bad. We eat and we eat until everything is ruined. Humanity is the virus. We need a new plague, etc etc.

What's so insidious about these lines of thinking is that it exploits the hopelessness of attempting to fight for the climate and further habitability of this particular biosphere and boils it down to a very, very simple thought. There are people who are undesirable and if we could just remove them (somehow) then we would save our people the planet.

You see this most clearly here in the west when we discuss the weight of the various climate sins of various countries. China keeps popping up a lot, as the Chinese economy grows towards the point where it can supply its middle class with similar levels of excess that the middle class in the west can enjoy. Now, yes, that leads to growing un-sustainability as the excesses of conspicuous consumption are... well documented to say the least. Where the ecofascist plies his insidious trade is in framing this data in the terms of "there needs to stop being so many Chinese people because they are as bad for the environment as Western People and there's More Of Them," and not, say "the way the middle class in the west consumes is hella unsustainable and we should fucking stop it before this standard kills us all." I.E "The current System is fine as long as it only benefits the Right People" and not "The Current System is Bad And Unfair and balanced on a razor's edge over the abyss and Maybe We Should Change That Somewhat."

For further reading on the topic, I think Philosophy Tube's "Climate Grief" video covers things rather well (I should also warn that this video is from PT pre-coming out/ public transition, just in case you're unfamiliar with her earlier work.)

For a good and very relevant example of how ecofascism might be expressed in practice, look no further than the Malthusian Problem and it's originator Thomas Robert Malthus. Malthus had the idea that while humanity's ability to produce food scales linearly with population, population growth is exponential. This implies that at some point it is inevitable that population growth outstrips humanity's ability to feed its teeming masses, which, if prolonged by, you know, giving a shit whether poor people die of starvation, could lead to even greater disasters up to and including total collapse of society. Intense stuff, but also not really backed by data. Part of that, of course, is that we've learned some REALLY neat tricks in agriculture in the years since Malthus famous wrongness ended with his death in 1834, but even without that, the self-interested callousness of this analysis should be self-evident.

To bring this back to Marvel Land, Thanos in the MCU is motivated by the same kind of merciless quote-unqoute altruism that lay behind Malthus ideas. There's just too dang many people, according to Thanos, there's only so many Resources (nonspecific resources) available in a finite universe. It is an act of mercy, according to this grape Koolaid motherfucker, to kill half of all people, and things will be fixed (somehow, more on that later.) All it takes, no, all it requires is a big enough, bad enough, sad enough dad.

The Rad Bad Sad Dad, or; The New Masculinity in pop culture

There's been a shift in what being a man means in pop culture this last decade. You can most easily detect it in video games, in part, I would argue, because demographic trends have lined up in such a way to shift perspectives that inform the writing, and in part because video game writing being younger and less refined, thus the most open leaving its tropes in the open. Keep in mind, this is not a diss, just an observation, the genre of text for video games is younger than its closest comparisons by quite a lot, it stands to reason there's less generational knowledge and nuance to it as a result.

You can tell this shift, I would argue, because the standard male protagonist has stopped being a white brown haired man in his late 20s who navigates worlds of wild and untamed violence with smug detachment and every-man-like charm, the kind of character one might expect a 20-or 30-something who is single and ready to mingle to write, if I may be uncharacteristically judgy for a bit.

When we now imagine a stock-standard video game protagonist, though, things have changed. Not so much demographically, no, these characters are still written by the same 20- and 30-somethings, they're just pushing 40/50 and have a family now. So, instead, we get what I call the Rad Bad Sad Dad. You know this guy. He's good at violence, REALLY good at it, the Rad and the Bad, but he's disillusioned by a cold and uncaring world, that's the Sad part, and he is the father, or father-figure of some variant of Innocent, and he is willing to burn the world to the ground for their sake if it comes to that, that's the Dad part.

Now this isn't me criticizing this trend either for the record, just pointing out that the change reflects a perspective change in the average creator. It has led to some very good stories. The Last Of Us, for whatever other flaws that game had, squeezes a LOT of pathos out of a cynical, dangerous man growing to love a young girl like she was his daughter. Unfortunately, I would argue, it has also led to Earth's Mightiest Heroes staring slack-jawed at a genocidal madman rather than rebuking him with any of the MANY readily apparent counterarguments to his bullshit.

A truncated list of the ways in which Thanos 1: Is Wrong and 2: Does Wrong

Here, I would argue, we come to what is wrong with Thanos in the MCU. It isn't bad to have a villain with genocidal goals per se, punching nazis is as important today as it was in the 40s after all, but having a villain you're supposed to empathize with in his quest to preform a genocide is generally considered a bad move. A move so bad, in fact, that one of the funniest comedies in the world, is about exactly this.

And yet, the MCU can seemingly not help itself but make an unironic Springtime for Thanos. "Isn't he sad," says Infinity War, "this lumbering purple space dad, willing to do what nobody else can do, what needs to be done?" "Look! He cries because he had to kill his own daughter on Planet Fridge to get the requisite number of Magical Space Tic-Tacs with which he plans to kill half of all life in the universe." Oh, except she's his adopted daughter because he killed half her planet's population and enjoyed her 'tude. Also, she's the last survivor of her people now (feel free to fact check me on this, Guardians Of The Galaxy 1 refers to Gamora as the last survivor of her species in the lineup), turns out killing 50% of the population had the side effect of... killing the other half also over time. Great, huh?

Now this here is what kills me about these fucking movies. There are several Doylist reasons why Thanos and his so sad and serious genocide quest is unconscionable, but even from a Watsonian perspective his shit does not make sense. But OK, maybe the Gamora thing is a plot hole. James Gunn didn't read the Lore Notes all the way through and ended up introducing a near-ironclad counterargument to Thanos' bullshit by accident. These things happen, and the most readily available fix is to pretend they never happened and/or the character who said it was Just Wrong. It doesn't end there, though, not by a long shot.

Let's talk numbers for a second. If you, today, were to halve the population of the earth. Do you know how many years that would set back the population growth, provided, of course, that the trauma of such an event didn't kill off or cripple humanity outright of course? It'd bring us back to the population level of the mid-70's! After a genocide that'd outshine even the most horrid acts of violence against humanity in sheer scope, you'd have pushed earth's theoretical kill screen back about a man's age. Good job, you Malthusian fuck. Round of applause for the Difficult Man that makes the Hard Choices, everybody clap for the edgy clown.

There is, of course, also the ethical arguments against killing functionally incalculable masses for an ill-defined goal of a thankful (and somehow sustainable?????) universe, but I'm not going to say much on that, in part because this is one the Infinity War duology mostly covers on it's own. Say what you want about Captain America, he at least knows to on occasion say Good Guy shit.

Now to be clear, my issue here isn't that the primary movers and shakers in Infinity Wars doesn't read Thanos to filth on how shit his plan is. That's fine, the main protagonists of the MCU are Moral People first and Smart People second, but what kills me is that NOBODY, and I mean ABSOLUTELY nobody comes with a single question about the practical or mathematical realities involved here. Like Spider-Man wouldn't be web-slinging around the city bus Thanos threw at him going "You are aware that earth's population has more than doubled since the early 70's right?" and making some sort of crack on the math curriculum on Titan, or War Machine or one of the more practically-minded heroes wouldn't at least ask earnestly "wait, why can't you use your functionally infinite power to create ways for life to live sustainably?"

Mais non. Nobody questions a single of the extremely rickety axioms in Thanos' plan. Not once. Not a single time. There's more time dedicated to why the Avengers, now equipped with a time machine, don't just go back to murder baby Thanos in the crib than whether the big bad space man's plan makes any fucking sense.

Breaks in formula, Or; Why Endgame kind of cocks it up

So, what's the big issue. The villain is REALLY bad and his plan doesn't make sense, big woop, right? Well, I would argue that the Thanos problem doesn't arise from how bad and wrong Thanos is, but rather how the heroes of the Marvelverse react to him, or rather should I say, how they don't.

Superhero conflict in the MCU can, I would argue, be understood as dialectic. The hero has a Thesis about the world at the outset, T'chala considers himself a righteous king in a line of righteous kings tasked with upholding the world his forefathers created for him and is then confronted with an antithesis in the form of the play's villain, Killmonger views the previous rulers of Wakanda craven isolationists content with stacking up their utopia while the world burns and people suffer. While the hero and the base kindness that informs their actions win out in the end, their perspective on the conflict is a meld of their own and the villain's, a synthesis if you will, T'chala will reign as king, but he will do what he thinks is right for Wakanda, to take her out of isolation and seek to better the world through their superior technology.

In Infinity War this doesn't really happen, neither for the overarching story with the protagonists, nor for the Thanos-headed sub-story. There's no real meaningful compromise that can be made between "Killing half of the universe is good, actually :)" and "Killing people is wrong :(" after all. This isn't a problem on its own, I'd claim, but the fact that the movie low-key presents itself as an attempt of finding such a middle ground is... disappointingly evocative of modern political discourse, let's just say.

It is jarring, is the thing, to see Steve "Captain America" Rogers be unable to say anything of moral weight against a genocidal space ube. To see Tony "The only expert on Unlimited Free Energy" Stark not even question the axiom that there's no such thing as a sustainable universe without this barbarous culling. They oppose Thanos on account of all the killing, but when it comes to the ideals side of thing they let the man win on walk-over. Part of this probably arises from how Infinity War does the whole "penultimate part is dark as FUCK bit, as Thanos' quest to attain all the Infinity Stones succeed, and not even a Hail Mary attempted murder from Thor manages to save the day. What exacerbates the problem, though, is how much of a mess the follow-up finale Endgame is. Now don't get me wrong, it's a fanservice all you can eat buffet, and in terms of honoring the legacy of the MCU and all of that it does what it's supposed to. As an answer to Infinity War, though, it is a mess. Our heroes never get their footing back in the moral department, as timeline shenanigans see "our" Thanos dead within the first 15 minutes, and a separate, but functionally identical mad titan brought over from a parallel timeline.

Now time travel bullshit in superhero media is about as old as the genre itself, but let's just look at this choice for a moment. The "new" Thanos is from a diverging timeline before he gathered all of the infinity stones. "New Thanos'" big plot is essentially, upon seeing that the universe is indeed not thankful but gearing up to kick his periwinkle ass post-snap, decides that if that's how they want to play he'll just destroy the entire universe this time around and see how they like that. Now, this works as a response to Infinity Wars Thanos only in that it confirms the very "no duh" notion that nobody will be particularly grateful to someone who killed half of their friends pretty much regardless of the quote unqoute facts they cite to justify it. The fact that this new reality isn't a lick more sustainable than the old one? Not commented on. Any meaningful consequences of Thanos' action outside of the particular ways it has touched the lives of our heroes? I guess there are signs here and there, but largely not commented on.

See this is what kills me with the New Thanos and that time travel nonsense. It's a get out of plot consequence free card. The MCU wanted to have its cake and have a larger-than-life villain with conviction, and eat it too, have a villain audiences can in part sympathize with, and even think is cool. This process leads us to such farce as Endgame having Thanos musing "You couldn't live with your failure and where did it bring you? Back to me," like he isn't throwing a fucking omnicidal tantrum at not being worshiped for being willing to kill a truly staggering amount of people make the Hard Choices. And again, absolutely nobody calls him on this. For all the quips in the wold, not even iron man notes that this is the pot calling the kettle black, because Thanos is Beyond Quipping. He is a Serious Man with a Serious Plan (a Serious Plan, incidentally, plotted by a cabal of murderous clowns, but I digress.)

Love Me, I'm a Liberal, Or; The Limits of Superhero Storytelling

I think I have been a mite charitable when it comes to describing the typical MCU plot to be dialectic in nature. The better movies, like Black Panther, Iron Man 3, and Thor Ragnarok fits this description rather well, but a lot of the time the plot follows a more mealy-mouthed liberalism of sorts. The hero represents the status quo, and the villain comes in as a radical who Might Have Some Good Ideas but Goes Too Far, requiring the hero to come in to Save The Day! It is hard to not notice that a lot of MCU antagonists are motivated by real-life problems, but just decides, usually somewhere in act 2, to just become Dumb And So Goddamn Crazy about it to justify the hero fighting them. This way, the hero can fight to uphold the Status Quo without calling their opponent a radical freak, or put any focus on how they are, indeed, upholding the status quo, warts and all.

The thing about the Infinity War duology that's so frustrating to me is that the movie clearly wants to be perceived as a dialectic kind of thing, but so transparently is one of the latter. Just look at how Cap, when discussing the topic of whether it's morally justifiable to destroy the infinity gem that powers their friend Vision states "We don't trade lives," and then goes about starting a massive bloody ground war to attempt to stop Thanos' forces from seizing Vision and the infinity gem, only to fail and they have to kill Vision anyway, except Thanos can time travel now, so he just Ctrl-Zs the entire moral choice and takes what he needs. L for the good guys, there, but more importantly, I think, this is supposed to be support for Thanos' antithesis of "some time killing is Good Actually."

The problem here is that this is a ludicrously uneven playing field. Yes, killing your friend to stop someone else from killing him AND ending the world is one of those trolley problem moments, but they're also functionally useless in this case. Thanos can control time now, so who gives a shit? If he doesn't like the outcome he'll just "Oop" a skootch back in time and never mind that. Even if the amethyst asshole didn't have time travel, what were we supposed to take away from this thing? All violence is the same? A kill is a kill? How is this a moral failure for Team Cap exactly? Like yeah it is wacky that superhero violence somehow is only lethal when someone is Dangerous And On The Edge and possibly even Dumb And So Goddamn Crazy, but you're not going to make that point in the big ol' crossover event are you because that'd make the audience feel weird about enjoying the punchman action. Never mind, I suppose, that Disney and Co here are giving the thinly-veiled fascist the "agree with him or no you have to admire his gumption" treatment like you're a fucking human interest story about the Young Hip White Supermacist in a self-declared news publication ca 2016.

In Closing, or; It's Not Real To Me Any More

So what do I want to achieve with this little essay? Do I want to hashtag cancel hashtag disney? Not so much no. Hell, my own stopping paying attention to the MCU was more recent, and chiefly motivated by the absolute hash that they made out of that Falcon And Winter Soldier show on the villain side if I'm honest. Do I want to change the way we talk about Disney or the MCU? I don't think that's within my power nor something I'm all that fussed about, either.

No, what I wanted most of all is to vent. To let off some steam that's been brewing for literal years, only further added to every time I see one of those stupid fucking "Thanos Did Nothing Wrong" memes that redditors used to love, only turned sourer every time I wondered how many actual, unironic ecofascists use these memes to make their ideas palpable, how I'd even tell the difference, and whether it made any difference who was ironic and who was not.

As anyone who's done a bit of writing might be able to tell you, there's no concept so good it can't be read into something terrible with a bad faith reading. This, I hope you agree with me, is not what happened here. The actual text has these flaws, and if it didn't end up boosting a rather insidious con from the worst political philosophy currently extant, I'd probably let it slide. When you create a story, I do not think there are all that many moral obligations on you in the act itself, but if you can not at the very least be honest and (inasmuch as you can) tell no overt lies.

Lack of resources is not what causes suffering on this planet today, nor is it likely to do so in the foreseeable future. That they do is a lie that the story of MCU Thanos tells.

Capitalism, neo-colonialism, conspicious consumption, these things cause poverty, strife and suffering. These things causes ludicrous food waste in a world where people still starve. These things causes cheaply produced medicine sold at exorbitant prices. These things cause empty housing being passed from investor to investor in some hellish shell-game while people live on the streets. These things cause famines. These things cut rainforests at an unsustainable rate. These things bleach the coral. These things cause hilariously insufficient deep water subs. These things causes stupid fucking superhero movie sequels.

The truth? We are capable of feeding the world, more than capable. There is enough room on this earth to house its every inhabitant with room to spare. Ok, maybe not everyone can have a new iPad every year on account of rare earth minerals being, well, rare-ish, so that's one of those things we may have to be a bit cost-benefit about. My point is this: Thanos isn't out here saying everyone can't have an iPad or a new phone every year, the kind of restrictions resource scarcity could conceivably bring. He keeps harping on the shit ideas of a long-dead British upper class twit like they could be used to justify his mega-genocide, so in that regard I suppose he's fulfilling a proud fascist tradition. I just wish that the superheroes we're meant to admire didn't stand by and let him, is all.

[fckwritersblock]

Protection Forever - William Lennox

Lennox x Reader

Description: Running into an old flame at the worst possible time.

Warning: nah. Bad writing? Kinda. Unedited because I was excited. I’ll not when it’s been fixed. Somethings may not be fully aligned with the movie but I tried 😩

Word count: 2500+

Dedicated to @merakiaes hey fren!

All gifs from @meragifs too!

You were an EMT.

The two of you pulled up to meet with the other Autobots, you exiting the vehicle before he transformed. You were in awe as he and the rest of the cars all changed.

The biggest one, their leader, gave a rundown of everything that was happening once he confirmed Sam’s identity. This was just a recap for you as Ratchet had already explained. The teenage boy just stood there stuttering not really knowing how to process everything and you frowned again. That was when you really took notice of two teens just standing there. Having known what was expected of Sam Witwicky you frowned slightly.

“I don’t know about this Ratchet, he’s just kid.” You commented to the alien you had formed a quick bond with.

“And who might you be?” The one called Optimus inquired.

You gave him your name before the other yellow autobot, who you’d later learned was Bumble Bee, uttered something through his radio. It was hard for you to hear but the other robots seemed to be use to it as Ratchet responded immediately.

“The human. I like her.” Ratchet sounding irritated.

Bumblebee made another comment and right before Ratchet could respond one of the others chimed in.

“Wait why do they get humans?” Jazz asked incredulously. “I want one too!”

“Enough! Humans are not pets.” The one call Optimus Prime stated sternly, clearly tired of their bickering. You held your laugh, highly amused.

They were like siblings. A family.

“Exactly I’m just here to help and be a better tour guide than these kids can be.” You confirmed practically forcing your services on them. “Besides they need adult supervision. From the looks of it, you all do.” You grinned at everyone around you. Optimus gave a nod, agreeing.

“She stays. Let’s move.”

In that short amount of time things moved rather quickly. You watched the Autobots accidentally destroy Sam’s backyard when attempting to retrieve the glasses, you were all arrested, you escaped thanks to the Autobots, only to be arrested again.

Fail.

Finally you ended it some secret base. How get you weren’t alone. The government had apparently been on a roll with kidnapping civilians who “knew too much “.

Things weren’t going great but quickly went left when the Decepticons, the Autobot rivals, came to retrieve Megatron.

A war from another planet had officially made Earth its battleground.

You were nervous, trying to figure out how to calm everything down before things started to escalate. Nobody was going to get anywhere with all the bickering. That’s when you saw him.

It had been what? Two years?

Still, without even knowing it, without even knowing you were present, he was still able to make your heart be slow and fast at the same time. The army had aged him, but for the better making him all the more attractive but you couldn’t focus on that right now. Especially when you heard:

“The cryogenic system is failing! We're losing NBE One!”

All the soldiers begin to pack everything that they could to prepare in a fight the way they always did. It was an mirable the way Linux game orders in his men took them without a second thought. The trust there.

“That’s good. Get all the ammo you got.”

“Everything you can carry. Bring it.”

Tearing your eyes away from your former lover you grab Sam.

“Come on, we need Bee.” You reminded him, nodding in Simmons direction

“You got to take me to my car.” Sam said, then repeated when he was ignored. “You have to take me to my car. He’s gonna know what to do with the Cube.”

“Your car? It's confiscated.”

“Then unconfiscate it.” You stared blankly.

“We do not know what will happen if we let it near this thing! -“

“You don't know.”

“Maybe you know, but I don't know.”

You rolled your eyes at the insufferable mans rambling.

This was really was more about ego who was in control more than anything. The guy running the ship, clearly was on a power trip. Unfortunately for him he was facing off against soldiers . The Captain who’s eyes you could feel staring at the side of your face.

A Captain and his soldiers. Ones that really dont like to lose and take serving their country seriously.

The guy who arrested you earlier continue to argue with Sam about getting him back to bumblebee when Lennox finally pulled out his gun sick of the back-and-forth.

“Take him to his car!”

As soon as he did so all hell broke loose and everyone from both parties pulled out a weapon.

“Drop it!”

It wasn’t until One of the sector seven agents pointed a gun at the back of Will’s head that you disable to another agent and took his gun and pointed it directly and held it directly at the one pointing the gun at your ex.

“I really wouldn’t.” You warned.

You were no soldier, but Will have taught you plenty before you broke up. So did your brother, before he passed away. He actually served alongside Will but died in combat. Biking. That’s part of why you were so hurt when Will re-enlisted. When he got promoted to Captain and chose the army over you. You were terrified of losing him the way you lost your brother. The break up wasn’t that messy but you both said things you didn’t mean. In attempts to mask your own pain and hurt one another.

You know. Hurt people, hurt people.

It’s still came to no surprise that you put a bullet in someone to protect him. Together or not you’d never let anything happen to him.

“I'm ordering you under S-Seven executive jurisdiction-“ Simmons ranted.

“S-Seven don't exist.” You interjected, earning a quick appreciative glance from Will.

“Right. And we don’t take orders from people that don’t exist.”

“I’m gonna count to 5. Okay-“ Simmons attempted to threat yet again.

“Well, I’m gonna count to three.” Will deadpanned.

You knew that look. God did you know that look and it was so wrong that you were so turned on.

Finally the Secretary of defense interfered telling Simmons to do what was being asked of him. Everyone relaxed slight, weapons lowering.

“Y/n,”

“Captain.”

The Captain and couldn’t help but watch you how do you get up and prepare to go.

“So that’s her huh?” Epps commented as Will watched you run off with Sam.

“Yeah..” Will answered, mind racing.

While he knew he’d eventually see you again, he didn’t think it would be like this. You looked breath taking.

“Damn. Shorty had your back that entire time.”

“Gear up,”

“What I’m just saying I thought she was gonna put a cap in his.” Epps shouted after his Captain receiving no response.

Will knew you had his back, you always would, the same way he would always have yours. He thought of you often, the break up between two inescapable, never feeling like he did the right thing. You were always not too far from the front of his mind. Him wondering how you were doing. If you were happy. If you found somebody else. There was no doubt he regretted what had transpired between the two of you. It was his fault. He knew that. You knew that. He had ample opportunity to fight for you and he didn’t. When he was promoted Captain he felt he had to choose between you and the army. He didn’t choose you the way he should��ve. In reality he could’ve had both. However hr so caught up proven himself to his deadbeat dad that he possibly let the best thing that ever happened to him go.

Not to mention trying to atone for your brothers death. It wasn’t his fault, but he still couldn’t shake it. So without talking to you he reenlisted. Needless to say where that got him.

Now hear the both of you were in the middle of an alien war. Yeah. This is the last place he thought he’d see you.

You were numb. The battle on the highway enough to freak you out. For mommy, just a moment you thought this might be a dream but no. This is all very real. One minute you guys were just entering the city trying to lay low, next thing you know - BOOM! The explosion knocked all of you over, injuring some, killing a few. Bumblebee’s legs were partially blown off.

Getting up off the pavement you waited for the ringing in your ear to subside as you stood up, trying to study yourself when you felt a pair of arms hold you still.

You knew it was Will just by the way he touched you, you blinked hard trying not to go down memory lane.

“Are you okay?” The concern in his voice was enough to make your heart skip a bear.

“Yeah,” you nodded slowly. “Yeah I’m fine.”

Slowly you removed yourself from his grip and went to check on Sam and Mikaela. Ratchet on the other hand -

“Hmm. His pheromone levels are-“ you quickly turned on him and glared.

“Ratchet I’ll turn you into a can opener if you don’t shut the hell up.”

The robot nearly held his hands up in the surrendering position as he followed you. Will had arranged an aircraft to pick up Sam and the cube while everyone else defended themselves against the deceptive cons in a hurry to get the cube far far away before Megatron arrived. Sam was in a panic and so Michaela, you could see Will’s short fuse getting ready to exploded. It was then you decided to be an escort.

“Sam, you can’t do this alone.” Michaela fussed.

“He won’t be alone.” You commented, causing all parties involved to look at you.

“I’m going with you.” You declared.

“No.” Will didn’t even hesitated as he stepped closer to you.

“Captain Lennox-“

“No!” You grabbed him by the front of his beer and pushed him back.

“Do you see what going on out there?!” You continued to hold on to him and you yelled at him over there chose. “We’re at a war. One we are extremely ill prepared for. So get your shit together! Sam is my responsibility. I have to get this kid to safety.”

This time your hands slid up the side of his face forcing him to look at you.

“Y/n..” he breathed out leaning down toward you, and for the first time during all this madness you could visibly see he was afraid.

“I’ll be back, Will.” You assured him, briefly resting your forehead against his.

Gathering himself he pulled away, looking toward Sam then back at you.

“Go. Go!”

And then we were running.. With nothing but an M16 strapped to your back and the pistol in your hand, you ran faster than you ever have before.

The four of you were under attack once more, you and Sam doing what you had to, to avoid getting snatched up as a fight Ironhide and Ratchet defended you. Unfortunately you were too close to one of the cars that went up in flames and you were thrown into another car from the blast.

“Y/n!” You could feel the blood on your forehead as you slowly pushed yourself up. As you tried to stand you immediately stopped feeling the pain in your thigh. Looking down could see the damage that had been done. The blood surrounding the afflicted area.

“Wha- what, what do i do?!” Sam asked frantically once he took notice of your injury.

“You gotta keep going Sam. I’ll be fine.”

He stood fo his feet, unsure of what to do. When Ironhide told him the same thing.

“Go!” You screamed once more.

Sam left and continued to run without you as you, as quickly as possible, as you tore your focus away from him to pull the shard of glass in your leg out. Ripping a piece of your shirt off you tightly tied it around your thigh in order to stop the bleeding. There was no point in going forward now but the return back to everyone else and help them fight.

You just had to avoid getting killed in the process.

You seen a car steering wheel, a Mountain Dew vending machine and and Xbox all turn into one of those freaky ass robots right before your eyes. All of which you helped others fight off. It was so surreal. In fact, if it wasn’t for the constant ringing in your ear from all the explosions you definitely think you were dreaming. You almost made it back to Lennox and his men when another Decepticon stood between between you and your destinations. They were definitely taking a beating. You saw Epps shooting a green laser indicating the robot that doubled as a helicopter wasn’t a friendly and decided to do what you could to keep the Decepticon from getting any closer to them and hurting any more civilians. In an attempt to draw it away from everyone else, you begin to fire your weapon giving it everything you had.

Unfortunately, the side effective taking its attention off the others meant putting the attention on you.

You ran trying to duck and dodge a bullets now directed your way.

But Will. Will’s heart dropped. Seeing you there defending yourself alone. His pause was brief, the air forces plan already in motion, before he started the motorcycle and was speeding in your direction.

“William!” You screamed for him fearfully as he drove straight toward the robot.

The only thing you could hear was your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You almost couldn’t breathe, you don’t remember the last time you ever felt so scared in your life. But it wasn’t your life you feared for was it?

He rushed forward and slid under the robot continuing to firing the launcher. All you could do was watch as he drove toward you. Toward the danger your mind wondering if he did that on a regular basis. Was this the life of a soldier? What he went through day after day when he was deployed?

Standing up he only spared the parts of the dismembered robot a glance before shouting and turning looking for you. In a matter of seconds he was standing directly in front of you and pulling you into his arms.

Relief.

There was nothing like physically being about to touch someone, hold someone to really know they were okay.

“So…” you began, suddenly feeling nervous. “...That was hot-“

Before you were able to get another word in, he captured your lips with his kissing you roughly and bringing you closer, hands on the small of your back. You couldn’t help it kiss him back just as fiercely put in every emotion you had into that kiss.

Every ounce of passion he had in body, put into this kiss, your lips just as soft, kiss just as pure as he remembered. When you kissed, he knew he was a goner and could never let you go again.

It has been two years since the last time you guys have been this close. This intimate. Reconnected. The feeling it gave you, the indescribable feeling, was one neither one of you ever wanted to forgo again. Pulling back slowly, you both had smiles on your faces, Will pulling you closer to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“Excuse me,” Epps interrupted.

The both of you turning your attention on him.

“As cute as this shit is it’s highly inappropriate in the middle of the battle. I’m just saying we are trying to stay alive and shit.”

———————————————

Oh my fu- I don’t even know what this isssss

Couldn’t tell you what my original ideas was or nothing. I believed this was going to short-

I enjoyed writing it though! Shoutout again to @merakiaes for being on this lennox train with me lol

I’m just....I’m just gonna leave this mess here.

Bye

- Mo

—————————-

Tags: @merakiaes @lilythemadqueen

[teddy06writes]

A Day In The Life

requesred by this genius anon: “Aight imma hit you with a good one: Literally everything as platonic, but a day in the life of reader in high school with the minor gang (too my, tubbo, ranboo) and all the faculty at the school are dreamsmp members”

Platonic! Minors gang (tommy, tubbo, ranboo and purpled) x reader

trigger warnings: none

premise: a day in the life of a student at the DSMP public high school 

{with all the shit that goes on the smp there's no way it could be anything but a public school}

{also if I do things slightly off or something its cause my high school is weird, we only have four blocks a day, but I think most have seven, so we’re going with that}

{also the dream/george thing, is based on two of the sciences teachers at my school being suspected of having an affiar}

{Full teacher list:

English: Mr. NotFound

Drama: Mr. Soot

Spanish: Mr. Dream (its mexican dream lol)

Gym: Coach Sapnap and Coach Punz

Home ec: Miss Nihachu

Music: Mr. Quackity

Chemistry: Mr. Halo}

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

Home room: Mr. Callahan

You sighed, trudging toward the school entrance, god it was way to early for this. 

The halls were already crowded with people heading to there home rooms, and Mr. Minecraft, the principal, was standing outside the admin offices, greeting everyone with a smile. 

“Good morning, (y/n).” 

“Good morning Mr. Minecraft.” You grumbled as you passed. 

You hurried through the foyer and up the stairs, toward Mr. Callahan’s room. 

“Hey!” Tubbo called, hurrying down the hallway, “(y/n)!”

“Hey Tubbo.” you yawned.

He fell into step with you, “You think Callahan will actually show today?” 

The one good thing about your home room teacher is that none of the kids ever seemed to have seen him. It meant that some days, while other home rooms had lectures of bullying or something, your class got to hang out for 30 minutes. 

“I don’t think he even exists.” Purpled said, falling in on your other side. 

“He definitely doesn’t.” You agreed. 

~~

History: Mr. Blade

“Hey (y/n)!” Ranboo called from his seat at the front of the room as you came in. 

He was lucky enough to have moved homerooms and ended up getting the same room as his first block. 

“Hello Ranboo.” you sighed, sitting down in your seat next to him. 

Tommy came in and plopped down behind you, “Well you sound like shit.”

“No swearing in my classroom, Tommy.” Mr. Blade chided, hardly looking up from the book on his desk. 

You turned to look at Tommy, “It’s too early for this.” 

“You say that everyday!” He laughed. 

“Yeah! Cause this class starts at 7:45 in the god damn morning!” You half exclaimed. 

“Bloody hell you’d think you’d get used to it-” 

“Tommy, what did I say about swearing?” Mr. Blade cut Tommy off. 

“But you didn’t yell at (y/n)!” Tommy yelled, “That’s not fair Tech!” 

Me. Blade glared at his brother, “Do you want me to send you down to Phil’s office Tommy?” 

“I didn’t even do anything!”

After a moment under Mr. Blades glare, Tommy sighed, “Please don’t send me down to Phil.” 

The teacher didn’t respond, instead standing up and moving to stand in front of the board, queuing up the intro slides for the day, “All right everyone, settle down. Today in our ‘tour of the ancient world’ or whatever, we’re going to start our mini unit on Greece.”

~~

Statistics/Math: Mr. Was Taken

After a class that ended mostly in a rant about the myth of Heracles, you said goodbye to Ranboo and Tommy and met up with Purpled to head to math. 

Mr. Wastaken was already passing out the notes when you two got there, sliding into your seats at the back of the classroom just as the bell rang. 

“You’re late.” He chided, dropping the papers onto your desk, then Purpleds. 

“Purp needed to refill his water bottle.” You explained. 

“Seriously?” Mr. Wastaken questioned, “Dude, it’s second block, why the hell was your water already empty?” 

Purpled shrugged, “P.E?” 

“Ehh, wrong, Sapnap doesn’t have you till sixth period.” 

“Stairs... are murder man.” He fumbled. 

You nodded, “First floor to the fourth floor is tough Mr. Wastaken.” 

Rolling his eyes, the teacher moved back to the front of the room, “Alright, last nights homework was a bit of a flop so we’ll be more review for the quiz tomorrow.” 

You groaned internally, pulling out your pencil. 

Purpled nodded, “I fuckin hate review days.” 

“I can hear you, you know!” Mr. WasTaken half yelled. 

~~

Chemistry: Mr. Halo

After Math you and Purpled headed down to the science hall to meet back up with Tubbo to head to Chem. 

“Welcome back everybody!” Mr. Halo greeted cheerily, “Good to see smiling faces for chemistry!” 

How he managed to stay so upbeat, no one would ever know.

You sat down at your lab table with Tubbo, “You think we actually make it to doing the lab today before he starts talking about Mr. Skeppy again?” 

“Oh no chance.” 

You chuckled, pulling out your notebook as Mr. Halo pulled up the opening review before the lab. 

Twenty minutes later found you elbow deep in the lab, quite literally. 

“It was supposed to just be a small scale elephants toothpaste!” Mr. Halo cried. 

Purpled grinned, “You should’ve taken my wildcard factor into account sir.” 

You laughed, wiping the foam off your apron (thank god for lab aprons), “That was brilliant!” 

A few minutes earlier, Tubbo had helped him do out the math to scale up the experiment by 20%, and you had willingly given up your own materials to help.

Now most of the classroom was covered in the foam, and Purpled and the girl who had been unfortunate enough to be partnered with him were knee deep in it. 

“I sent the video to the groupchat.” Tubbo whispered.

“Good.” You chuckled again. 

Mr. Halo groaned, “You three start cleaning this up, Elizabeth, dear, why don’t you join a different group.”

“I volunteer to switch with her!” Drista yelled, “they look like fun!” 

Mr. Halo sighed, “No- no absolutely not- I can’t deal with you added to the mix.” 

Drista pouted, the rest of the class went back to there work, and you, Tubbo and Purpled began to clean up the foam. 

~~

Drama: Mr. Soot

As Purpled left for his history class, you and tubbo headed twoard the music/performing arts suit, where you met up with Ranboo. 

“Tommy said he wished he could’ve been there to see the foam.” Ranboo reported as Tubbo peeled off into the band room, and you both continued on to the green room. 

“Hello, Hello, Hello!” Mr. Soot greeted in an aussie accent (you know the one). 

“Oh god please say were not doing accents today.” Ranboo muttered. 

Mr. Soot laughed, “Nah, we’re going to do some more rounds of improv.” 

“Oh thank god.” You said as you moved to take a seat at one of the side tables. 

“That would have been hell.” Ranboo agreed. 

More people poured into the room, take seats all around as Mr. Soot began to dig through on of the closets. 

As the bell rang he let out a triumphant cheer, turning around and brandishing a very large bowl of paper slips, “I found the prompts!” 

“Oh dear lord.” Ranboo muttered.

“Mr. Soot can we please do like, anything else?” You asked, “Like scenes, or hell I’d even take monologues, you know we’re all shit at improv!” 

The teacher sighed, “I suppose we could do something else. I guess we can begin our next topic, you’re all going to be assigned scenes and given time to practice them, we’ll present on Friday!” 

The entire class breathed a sigh of relief that you had managed to change his mind. 

~~ English: Mr. NotFound 

After a very chaotic lunch full of Tubbo retelling a bunch of jokes Mr. Quackity had told during music,  you trudged off to the one class that didn’t have any of your main group of friends in. 

The one good thing about having Mr. NotFound as a teacher was that he had no clue what he was doing. 

More often then not you would be left to do essays or read the required books, and then watch the movies that went along with them.

And, just your luck, your English block happened to take place during Mr. Wastaken’s prep period. 

“Right, everyone, today’s a work day, finish up anything you need to for this class, or another, and I’ll put on a movie.” Mr. NotFound said as soon as everyone was seated. 

Ten minutes into the movie the teacher had left, and you pulled up the group chat.

(y/n): Mr. NotFound has yet again suspiciously left during class. 

Purp: sus

Purp: just went by WasTaken’s room

Purp: he’s not there

BooBoy: I saw him down in the science hall ten minutes ago

BeEs: Science hall is oposite to English isn’t it

(y/n): yeah it is

BooBoy: very sus

Purp: I swear their having an affair

BeEs: defintly a lesbian

BeEs: *leassion

BeEs: lesion

BeEs: le-a-zon

BeEs: you know what I mean!

BooBoy: take your time Tubbo

You chuckled quietly, putting your phone down to look back up at the movie on the screen. 

~~

Spanish: Mr. Dream (its mexican dream lol)

“AYYYY kids!”

You groaned as your Spanish teacher burst into the room.

“What is with this guy?” Tommy muttered. 

“ayy man not cool.” Mr. Dream said. 

“Mr. Dream your ten minutes late!” Someone pointed out. 

“SHut up man. And I told you just call me Mexican Dream!” The teacher said. 

You frowned, “That doesn’t make sense, theres no way your first name is ‘mexican’.” 

“Well its not,” He explained, “But its cause I’m the Mexican version of that math teacher!” 

“Why couldn’t I have taken French like Boo and Purp?” Tommy asked the ceiling quietly.

~~ Home ec: Miss Nihachu

The last block of the day was always the best, but not just because school would be over soon. 

There were three main reasons why everyone agreed it was the best. 

1. Miss Nihachu was the nicest teacher in school

2. baking was done often, and everyone always got to take some home

3. it was the one class you, Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo and Purpled all had together. 

Soon your found yourself crowded into one of the tiny kitchen areas with all your friends, as Miss Nihachu gave instructions. 

“Now, if you make a mess you will be cleaning it up! I’m looking at your kitchen a!” She said, half threateningly.

Ranboo pushed away from the group, “I’m not with them I swear!” 

Miss Nihachu rolled her eyes playfully, “Sure your not.” 

Surprisingly, a mess was not fully made. 

Somehow between Tommy wanting to taste the cookie dough at every step from butter to flour, Tubbo trying to add as many chocolate chips as he could, and Purpled all but refusing to move from where he was sitting on the counter, you and Ranboo managed to get the cookies into the oven with no real disasters. 

As you wiped down the empty counter space you sighed, “That wasn’t too bad.” 

“Yeah.” Tubbo agreed. 

Tommy only nodded, still eating the large glob of cookie dough he’d stolen. 

Ten minutes before the bell rang and when everyone was supposed to be finishing cleaning up you sniffed the air suspiciously, “Why do I smell burning?” 

Tubbo took a deep breath, “I smell it too.”

“Oh yeah, something is definitly burning.” Ranboo agreed. 

You whirled to face Purpled, who was absently scrolling through his phone, “Purp you did set a timer right?” 

[siriusmydeer]

Oh and Hello to you today you fine and brilliantly skilled author who I have came to love and adore, you see I know I’d already recently requested something from you but I had a taste of your absolutely amazingly fine talent and just had to come back for more

Ya see, this person here (hem hem, me) would like to ask if she could request something dealing with Young Remus Lupin Remmy Boi being a sweet older brother during the summer to his adoptive sister who is almost his age and very gay and him letting her hang out with him and the Mauraders because her friends were douchbags and skippy skip to Remus letting her rant about it while they sit in his bed, her head in his lap while she’s curled up in a ball and he’s half-heartedly reading while talking to her about her douche-bag friends before he cuddles his sis to his chest and lets her sleep in his bed that night

Anywho, sorry for annoyin you again but I’ve had a shit day and wanted to relax with one of my fav authors and a cuppa tea

baby i was so excited to write this, my internal message to homophobes lies within this one shot. y/n’s vent gave me very “gia ranting her her friends about being bi and it should be nobodies business”

my little sister

brother!remus lupin x fem!reader, girlfriend!marlene mckinnon x fem!reader

warnings: homophobia, mentions of slurs, mentions of conversion camp, angst? but not rly, fluffy remus, WOLFSTAR💋, swearing, jokingly mentions of murder, big brother energy from remus, um mentions of penises and masterbating😭, lowkey ravenclaw slander (ONLY MALES I PROMISE) and y/n being a baddie

word count: 1.3k

you were.... happy. yes, not in a sarcastic way. you had finally found a girl that didn’t just want to be your friend, or hate crime you. you found a girl that you wanted to kiss, a girl you wanted to love and girl that reciprocated that love. but unfortunately for you, your love choices had consequences and everyone else thought it was there business, commenting on it.

“𝗼𝗶, 𝗹𝘂𝗽𝗶𝗻! 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗳𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗵𝗲’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗹 𝘆𝗲𝘁?”

“𝗰’𝗺𝗼𝗻 𝗹𝘂𝗽𝗶𝗻, 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗳𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗳𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝘆𝗲𝘁?”

“𝗶 𝗯𝗲𝘁 𝘆/𝗻 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗺 𝘀𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹𝘀 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝘂𝗻𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗿. 𝗶 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝘀𝗵𝗲’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗹.”

“𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗮 𝗰𝗿𝘂𝘀𝗵 𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝗲, 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁? 𝗶 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝗶’𝗺 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁.”

so to society, you weren’t normal. the worst part was you weren’t always the one hearing it, the girls in your dorm heard it, your brother heard about it and his best friends also happen to hear about it. that also never happened to stop them from shooting a hex or 20 in someone’s direction but, nonetheless, you “weren’t normal.”

you were sitting in the library studying next to your gorgeous girlfriend, marlene mckinnon. oh did something as innocent as studying get flipped into so much more, both of you working on mcgonagalls transfiguration homework. all fine and well until the 7th year ravenclaws decided to crawl up your butt and die.

“i see you two haven’t been sent away yet.”

“aw well if it isn’t the two girls who think they’re in love.”

“the two fa-“

one of the boys didn’t even get to finish his sentence before your wand was pinned against his neck, and suddenly he was speechless.

“‘m gonna say this as delicately as possible to spare your shit feelings but, before you finish your very derogatory sentence i would love for you to reconsider your words.” you started, “i personally think it’s hilarious that you gits are so bothered by whomst m’intimate with.”

“for being known as the smart house, you 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 are so bloody stupid. i could rip out my own brain and give it to you and it still wouldn’t be enough for you to learn how to mind your damn business.” you said firmly, “your 𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗸 has sunken into the air, so me and my girlfriend are going to get going.”

you took your wand away from his neck before the 3 boys scrambled to the other side of the library, in fear. you gathered both you, and marlene’s things before slinging your bags over your shoulder and walking out of the library. before you could turn the corner, her other arm gripped your arm putting you both to a halt.

you turned towards her beet red face, and eyes shining in adoration. “dude, i think that was the hottest thing you have ever done.” she said before pulling you into a lip lock outside of the library. would you have been very nervous in any other situation?absolutely. i mean you were kissing a female, in public, at school, in 1975. but in this moment you couldn’t care less about anything or anyone, just the beautiful girl that you were besotted with kissing you right now.

“good.” you giggled as you pulled away before pulling her arm in the direction of one of the hidden corridors.

the next time you found yourself diminished over your sexuality, you went to people who you genuinely felt safe and comfortable with. you burst through the marauders dorm, forgetting to knock but quickly covering your eyes.

“i really hope none of you are masterbating right now, because i’m sure as not in the mood to see a penis.”

“c’mon mini-moony, you’re literally never in the mood to see a penis.” sirius replied, you uncovered your eyes and saw sirius walk over to remus’ bed and put his head on remus’ shoulder, and a light blush covered both of there faces. james on the other hand was on the floor writing lily, one of the only other people who supported you, another love letter.

“ok so let me start, sirius and remus please splash some cold water on your face. james, get off your arse and actually be a normal person and try and have a normal conversation with lily because i assure you she doesn’t even read those letters. and the grand finale, if i get called 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 one more damn time necks will be broken and body parts and fluids will scatter on the floor.” you huffed, and sat at end of remus’ bed nonchalantly.

at the part of your mini-monologue where you mentioned being called a slur, james and sirius happened to jump from where they were, surrounding you with questions. “who called you that?!” “i need names, now, mini-moony.” meanwhile remus aggressively grabbed his wand and made a bee-line to the door. “OI! BROTHER OF MINE.” remus stopped at the sound of your voice and turned around, his grip on the wand leaving his knuckles a shade of white. “sit. now.” he scoffed before sitting on the bed staring straight at you.

you debated for a moment, before looking at remus. “lucius malfoy and his toerag puppy dog, evan rosier.” you shrugged before all of them made a run at the door, messily grabbing their wands stomping down the stairs leading to the common room.

as fifth year came to an end, summer eventually came to a start. as you were unpacking your trunk and putting your clothes in there rightful spots in your dresser before you heard a knock at the door. “come in!”

remus opened the door, leaning against the frame. “hey, you okay?” he knew it was a stupid question to ask, but ever since you came into his family he felt a sense of protectiveness over you. he would always look at you like a little girl who needed her laces double knotted because she would trip on them, and how she needed to climb on furniture to grab something and especially when his little sister wasn’t his little sister anymore and became and illegal animagus for him.

“having your picture with nice little names on them, i’m brilliant.” you said sarcastically before sitting on your bed and remus following your lead. he leaned his back against the headboard as you threw your head on his lap, curling yourself to make yourself as tiny as possible. “i mean why the hell does anyone care anyways? it’s not like i’m intervening in there lives, i’m not killing anyone? it works the exact same except it’s a girl and not a boy. i just don’t understand why everyone thinks they should have an opinion on something that isn’t there business to start with.” you vented as he rubbed your back, while reading. “i mean, i understand.” you looked at him with a raised brow, “sirius?” he sheepishly looked up from his book and nodded before looking down at his book again and blushing.

“please, i could spot that from a mile away. i mean you aren’t exactly subtle, at the mere touch you both look like you got out of a sauna.” you said, matter of fact like and pointing your finger in the air sassily, “at least lily and james don’t care.” he mumbled trying to make you and him feel better. “everyone shouldn’t care, but then again everyone else in this universe is also a pest.” you sighed, as he continued reading but not before speaking.

“people are stupid.”

“you’re right, people are stupid.”

“but you know what makes us feel better?”

“what?”

“chocolate.”

“wow remus, it’s almost like i had no idea.”

“well i’m always right, so suck it up and take it.” he said shoving a chocolate bar in your face.

“i mean you could always have a sleepover with me where we eat chocolate and laugh at bad movies?” he said before looking down at you.

“remus, first yes, second how the hell does sirius put up with your ‘know-it-all-ness’?” you looked at him smirking, clearly he didn’t like that and he closed his book smacking it against your head.

“𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗿𝗲𝗺𝘂𝘀!”

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

Signs of the Times (DonnyxReader)

Requested by @baldwin-iv

@owba-chan @war-obsessed @inglourious-imagines @tealaquinn @struggling-bee

Let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist :)

Note: Dialogue that is italicized means the characters are speaking in French or German 

It had been a rather long mission. You, Donny, Wicki, and Hugo had been assigned to it on your own. Given the OSS' projections, no one should have survived that mission. But also given the skills needed to do it, and the objectives, the four of you were basically what Aldo called 'an all-star team.' You had all made it without so much as a scratch on yourselves...though all the nazis that got in your way couldn’t say the same thing.

After two months, the four of you were sitting in a French cafe one afternoon as a reward, just before heading back to the others.

To avoid raising suspicions from possible informants or traitors laying around, you spoke in German with Wicki and Hugo.... If it was absolutely necessary, you'd whisper to Donny in English.... And he'd write his answer on a napkin because that man could not whisper to save his life. After all, you could take the basterd out of Boston, but you couldn't take the Boston out of the basterd.

Someone else walked into the cafe.

Someone drawn to the comfort of his language...

A Gestapo major: Dieter Hellstrom.

He heard the boys and assumed they were German soldiers that were off duty.  Then he heard you speaking to a waiter in perfect French. Dieter assumed you were a French collaborator. Most likely giving the supposed soldiers some Intel....but of course soldiers spotting some civilian as attractive as you could just be making some small talk.

They were soldiers after all...

And so was he.

He sat between Hugo and Wicki, across from you and Donny. "Entschuldigen Sie mich. Sicherlich verschwendet jemand, der so umwerfend ist wie Sie, keine Zeit mit diesen Fahnen!"

'Excuse me. Surely someone as stunning as yourself isn't wasting time with these ensigns!'

Dieter laughed at his joke and patted Hugo and Wicki on the back. Hugo scowled and Wicki forced a grin.

You gave a false, welcoming nod and smile, noting the insignia on his uniform. "This is Private Becker and Sergeant Vogel..." It would've made no sense to make Donny a German soldier... He couldn't speak German and it would blow your cover. So...you panicked.

You gestured to Donny, "Mein bruder..."

Donny forced a grin. An inherently murderous scowl as you explained, "He does not speak German. He's worse than I am..." He noted the French accent as you spoke in German, and nodded.

Dieter shrugged, "ça va, je parle français."

Dieter could, unfortunately, speak French...

You lied again.

"He's...he's mute!"

Dieter raised his chin a little and looked Donny over with a squint. He frowned a bit, then nodded and shook Donny's hand.

Donny made certain his iron grip hurt Dieter.

Dieter chuckled nervously as he pulled his hand away.

You shook his hand next, "Major."

He smiled a little still not letting go of your hand "How rude of me. My name is Dieter. And yours?"

He kissed your hand as you gave him your name.

At that moment, Donny would break Dieter if he could. If only looks could kill...

Meanwhile... Dieter was completely enthralled by you. He winked back at Hugo and Wicki as he chuckled, and spoke to them "You win some you lose some, boys."

It was his way of ordering them to move to another table and back off.

As of that moment, in Dieter's mind, you were his.

You gave a reassuring glance to Wicki and Hugo. Wicki cleared his throat and stood up, saluting Dieter. He glanced back at Donny with a look that screamed "don't blow this for us."

Hugo simply smirked a little seeing the boiling blood and flaming jealousy in Donny's eyes.

Dieter looked back at you once he was satisified by the distance they'd gone.

"I'd apologize to your brother if I seem too forward, Y/n... But I don't think he'd understand me, would he?" Dieter laughed a little.

You clearly weren't amused, but at that moment Dieter was blinded by his lust.

Still, you chuckled a little. Not because you liked Dieter but because you knew Donny. And you knew damn well this would not end well for that nazi.

Dieter rambled on, stumbling over lines and flirts until he was practically out of breath and burning red. "I apologize if I seemed insensitive it's just been a while since anyone so charming....has well..."

You stopped paying attention as Dieter droned on.

Meanwhile...Donny was clenching his fists. His right fist was wrapped around a knife under the table. His left fist restsed on the table, his knuckles turning white. His leg was shaking as he tried to control his rage.

He didn't understand a word Dieter was saying, but he knew he was saying things a man shouldn’t say to another man's love. Ever. In any language. Rules were rules under every flag and alliance.  

Just as Donny was about to snap, Dieter caught sight of the time.

"I must be going... Meet me here tomorrow night, at seven? They have some good strudel here."

You smiled "Ja."

Dieter nodded and quickly built up the courage to lean over the table. He planted a slobbery mess of a kiss on your cheek. You scrunched up your nose. You knew he said it'd been a while, but judging from that disaster of a peck, it must have been ages. Donny's eyes were those of a madman, wild with jealousy.

The moment Dieter stepped out the door everyone took a breath of relief.

"Ugh..." You wiped some of Dieter's messy kiss away from your cheek with your sleeve. Donny was eerily silent...

You smirked at him, "If it's any consolation to you, he's a terrible kisser."

Donny grunted as he slammed the knife into table, driving the blade halfway through.

"Hey..." Your voice was soothing to him as you rested your hand against Donny's cheeks.

He started ranting and muttering vulgarities under his breath.

You sighed. You were the only basterd that was not be scared of Donny when he got like that. Everyone else was good at hiding it at that point...but at that Hugo and Wicki were petrified, and kept their distance.

"Hey. Look at me, Donny."

"What." he growled as he finally turned to you, eyes piercing deep into yours, practically huffing like a wolf.

You looked right back into his dark eyes until the smoke seemed to fade.

He took a breath...he lowered his eyes in shame. "I'm sorry...."

You smiled softly and eased his raging heart. "He'll be back tomorrow night. You and the boys wait outside."

He immediately sunk back into his jealousy. "What and watch that fucken kraut kiss you? Yeah. Ok." He scoffed and crossed his arms.

You rolled your eyes. "Ok. And you get a scalp." You patted him on the chest. And he uncrossed his arms and smirked a little.

"Deal, baby?" Feeling your hands resting against his face made him calm down.

His heart melted when you gave him a kiss.

His breathing slowed.

He unclenched his fists.

He even smiled a little.

The next night, Donny hid in some trees, and basically had to watch you go on a date with someone else. A nazi, no less.

He almost went on a rampage when Dieter leaned in to kiss you.

But...you put your finger against Dieter’s lips.

"Lets get out of here."

Dieter's mouth dropped as he fumbled to gather his things.

He practically ran outside with you, pulling you by the hand.

And ran into Donny.

"Oh...your brother... Damn."

Donny looked to you, his eyes more expressive than any word could ever be as he signed to you and Dieter.

As a matter of fact, Donny really did know ASL. One of his childhood friends was deaf. In fact, that kid was still one of closest friends, but that was a story for another day...

It wasn't French sign language but it would do. Dieter couldn't tell the difference.

Besides... Donny was signing profanities directed at Dieter and no one knew...

No one but you.

You nodded with a sigh and rolled your eyes.

Dieter looked to you, annoyed and practically whining about the sudden appearance of your 'brother,' "What did he say?"

"He'll walk me home from here."

Dieter muttered under his breath but had to admit "Well... he's doing what any older brother would do, isn't he..."

You smiled a little, holding Dieter's decorated lapel, "Can't blame him can you, major? Me and a handsome soldier like you..."

Donny's eyes and signing intensified...

Donny pulled you away from him and Dieter asked "May I come along?"

You and Donny looked to each other and smirked. You clued him in, "That's the plan."

Dieter smiled and blindly followed into the forest that you somehow convinced him was a short cut. Dieter had his arm around you, as you both followed Donny into the woods.

"Bit dark here... If your brother wasn't butting in, I think you and I could-" his hand started slipping from around your shoulders, down your back.

Donny swung around, grabbed Dieter by the collar, and tore him away from you.

Donny understood enough.

"Lets get one thing straight, pal." Donny was dangling Dieter a good five inches off the ground, "I aint Y/n's brother and I aint mute. Your turn to set the goddamn record straight, pal. What would you do if I wasnt here? Huh?!"

Dieter was struggling against Donny, but there was no way he was reaching his gun. You had been leaning against a tree. It really was the closest thing you got to going to the movies... You smirked a little as you lit a cigarette. "Boys?" You puffed some smoke out as you watched the spectacle unfold.

Wicki and Hugo emerged from the trees. Hugo tossed the bat to Donny.

Wicki took Dieter's gun and Donny threw him against the ground.

He crouched over Dieter like a leopard prowling over it's prey. "You still don't know who we are, do you?"

Dieter's eyes widened as he saw the bat.

"You're the one they call the Bear Jew..."

He looked back at Hugo and Wicki... He knew they looked familiar.

He snapped his head toward you, barking like a rabid dog, "AND YOU. YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A-"

Donny had been practicing his swing for a minute or so...

 He stopped and looked at Dieter. "Careful what you say about Y/n. Might make your final moments a bit more pleasant, major."

Dieter roared in German.

Donny didn't need to understand.

"Suit yourself, you fucking home wrecker." Donny tilted his head side to side as he cracked his neck and stretched.

He swung his bat.

It was a most unpleasant death, to say the least.

But you had to admit... Dieter had it coming.

So you walked on with your boys, back to the rest of the basterds somewhere in Nazi-Occupied France.

Donny was covered in blood drops. But...what was new?

He had his arm wrapped around you, bat swinging from his hand as you swayed together through the forest. A scalp around his belt.

Jealous as he was...sometimes it was a bit endearing. Sometimes it was annoying.  Sometimes it was deadly.

But as you looked at batter from Boston, you smiled as you saw the satisfaction in his smirk and the love in his eyes.

[andrea-lyn]

While You Were Sleeping is my favorite holiday movie! I'd love this AU with Malex for the holiday prompt thing!!

deck the hallsmichael/alex, presumed kyle/michael, pg-13

The corridor of a hospitalis the last place in the world that Michael wants to be, but here he is.It’s been a hell of a day and he’d snuck off to talk to Isobel, curled up in awaiting chair, wondering how the hell he’s going to break the news of whathappened to her. “You sound like shit,” is the first thing she says whenMichael says hello. “And I thought that I was the miserable one.’

“What happened?” Michael asks, more than happy to let Isobel talk his ear offabout her unfortunate life.The dismissive noise Isobel makes doesn’t bode well for her going on about it.“Nothing serious, just the guy I was seeing ghosted me.”“Asshole.”“Tell me about it,” Isobel harrumphs. “Why do you sound like shit?”“There was…an incident.”The reason why Isobel is his favorite sibling is because she lets him rantabout what happened on the subway late last night on his way home from a ridiculousshift. Around that time, there’s only ever him and another guy (who’s kindahot, admittedly), but happens to sound like a self-important asshole on thephone. He’s a doctor or something, but clearly he’d been out of it because he’dfumbled near the edge of the platform just as the subway had been coming.Michael had been too far away to grab him back.That didn’t mean he didn’t use his powers. He’d hauled hard and pulledthe man back until he’d smacked his head on the subway platform. Cut to a fewhours later and here he is at the hospital where someone’s at least identifiedthe guy as Dr. Valenti, who happens to work here. They’ve also called hisfamily. As of this morning, Michael happens to be part of it because he’s lied and saidthat he’s the boyfriend.

“Michael…” Isobel chides.“I know! I know, I fucked up. So now I gotta wait and see if this guy remembersme using my powers to save his life,” he complains sharply, glancing around tosee if anyone is close enough to eavesdrop. The early hour of the morning meansthat he’s safe, but he still hates that he’s in this situation. “I don’t knowhow long I’m gonna be here, but I’ll try and swing by at some point. We candrink to the shitty boyfriend you’ve got.”“I really thought this time was the one,” Isobel says quietly, and Michaelhates that even in this stressful hour, his first thought is to go comfort her.“Whatever. I’ll drink my feelings away. You go make sure our secret isn’t aboutto get blown to pieces.”“Can do,” Michael vows and tucks the phone back into his pocket before he getsback to his feet, trying to ignore the clinical and overwhelmingly sanitizedenvironment around him. When you’re an alien, you have a lot of nightmares about getting dissected in aplace like this, but it’s worth it to endure to guarantee that doesn’thappen. Michael trudges back into the hospital room and stares down at KyleValenti’s comatose body in the bed. The doctors keep saying that his brainswelling has been going down and he could wake up any minute with allthese hints of promise in their voice like they want to cheer him up. Then,Michael’s the one who lied about being his boyfriend, which means they want tokeep his spirits lifted. It’s a necessary lie, because if Kyle Valenti wakes up and finds out that theguy who saved his life used alien powers to do it, Michael might be under amicroscope real fast. He settles in beside the bed, digging out his book so he can pass the time. ItMichael’s lucky, then he’ll wake up and he’ll figure out if he knows anything(and if he does, then Isobel’s down here instantly to wipe it away).If he’s lucky, this will all be over soon. Of course, since when has Michael ever been lucky?“My baby,” a mother’s lament is the first thing Michael hears when a womanbursts into the room to make a bee-line to Kyle’s side, collecting his hand inhers. Behind her is a man her age and a young woman who’s trying to keep herdistance. Michael knows that they’d alerted the family, but he’d been hoping they’dshow up a little later, that maybe Kyle would wake up before then. The mother kisses Kyle’s hand rapidly, fretfully, and then looks up at Michaelwith a suspicious eye. “Who are you?”Michael stands slowly, rubbing his palms anxiously over his thighs. “I’mMichael,” he introduces himself, knowing that this isn’t going to go over well,but it’s lie or die (maybe literally if his secret gets out). “Kyle’s myboyfriend,” he says, because he needs to be here, and it’s not like ‘goodfriend’ is going to do the trick. “I was with him when he went into the comaand I’m so worried, I…”The parents eye each other, then glance back to Michael, before their gazesland on Kyle.“Rosa,” they say to the young woman. “Did you know…?”Whatever reaction Michael’s anticipating, he doesn’t get a chance for it,because the chaos only grows when Kyle gets yet another visitor. “I heard the news, is Kyle…” The man skids to a stop inside the hospital room,gaping at Michael holding Kyle’s hand. “…okay? Is he brain damaged?” he demandsinstantly to Rosa.“Easy,” Rosa mutters under her breath.“Who the hell are you?”“I’m Michael, Kyle’s boyfriend. Who are you?” he retorts, his hackles up.“Alex Manes, his best friend, who he tormented in high school for beinggay.”Fuck.“What can I say, Kyle’s grown recently,” Michael lies (badly). He awkwardlypats Kyle’s hand a few times as if that’s going to help him out while he staresat Alex warily. “We’ve been keeping things quiet,” he says, hoping that maybethat’ll go over better.“He did say he was seeing someone,” Kyle’s mother says in the corner. “Wedidn’t think it was a…”The awkwardness practically bleeds in the room, which makes this Alex guy rollhis eyes and look like he wants to take Kyle’s IV bag and hook it into his ownveins, if only to escape the idiocy. Michael thinks that this is a tense familysituation that he absolutely doesn’t belong in. Still, it’s not like he can getout of there without completely blowing his cover, so Michael awkwardly takesKyle’s hand even tighter into his own and threads their fingers together,trying to ignore the way Alex is staring at him.Luckily, Rosa and Kyle’s parents descend on the situation and ignore Michaeleven though he’s right there. He probably should be more irritated about thefact that they’re ignoring him like this, but it’s a relief. Besides, not everyone is ignoring him. Michael’s pretty sure Alex hasn’t takenhis eyes off him since he showed up in the room. He’s also the most stubbornwhen it comes to leaving, as Michael soon finds out.Even though Michelle and Jim head home for new clothes and Rosa heads out whenshe starts falling asleep, Alex stays. Alex always stays, and for the firstnight, Michael sits awkwardly with him in silence, but the second night, hedecides the lack of conversation is ridiculous.“Why are you so pissed at the idea that Kyle might be bi?” Michael questionshim. It's probably not smart to poke the bear (so to speak), but Michael’s genuinelycurious why it’s such a big deal. Alex has been scribbling in a notebook andlooks up, alarmed and somewhat surprised that he’s being addressed, but thepart Michael doesn’t understand is why the tips of his ears go a little red. This is gonna be good, he realizes. “He bullied me endlessly in high school because I was gay,” Alex protests. “Heshouldn’t get to just suddenly have a surprise hot boyfriend like you.”Yup, definitely good.Michael hides his smile behind his hand, shifting in his chair to give Alex afond look. “Hot boyfriend, huh?” There’s something about Alex that Michael’sreally enjoying. For one, that sassy and sharp in-your-face opinionatedpersonality reminds him of Isobel, but god, he’s so much hotter. The eyelinerhe’s wearing makes his eyes look soft and big, and Michael keeps glancing downto his fingers, imagining those varnish-coated nails and how they’d look whilehe gave Michael a handjob.Meeting someone when you’re posing as someone else’s boyfriend is absolutely ashitty way to connect, but Michael feels like somehow, he can make this work.“I’m not exactly a catch. I don’t even rank high enough at the school I teachto get lab time other than the late shift. That’s how Kyle and I…” He clearshis throat and shrugs. “It’s how I met him.” His gaze slides over Alex and hegestures to the notebook. “You a writer?”“Singer,” Alex admits. “I’m not famous or anything, but I was hoping that oneday maybe I’d have at least one good song.”Michael can only imagine the songs Alex might play and he lets out a soft catchof breath to think of Alex singing to him, his voice soft in his ear, hisbreath warm on his neck. “Maybe you can sing some to me,” he offers, swallowingpast his dry throat.Alex is staring at Michael’s lips, Michael swears he is, as he says,“Maybe I will.”From there on out, Michael makes sure that he’s always in the room at nightwhen Alex is visiting so they can spend time together. Alex brings his guitar,and they end up talking about the songs Alex writes and how they remind him ofhis terrible childhood before the Valentis adopted him. They talk aboutMichael’s career and how he’s feeling like he’s swimming upstream because hedoesn’t like the networking aspect it takes to get tenure. Their conversationsonly get deeper and eventually, they end up curled up together under one of thebigger couches, Michael’s jacket draped over them like a blanket.Nearby, Kyle lies in a coma, and Michael’s supposed to be his boyfriend. He really needs to wake up soon, because Michael feels weird dumping a guy whenhe’s unconscious.Luckily (or unluckily, given how there’s no knowing how it’s going to go) forMichael, he gets his wish. Michael’s in the middle of getting coffee for himself and Alex when he hears ahuge commotion nearby and sees nurses rushing into Kyle’s room. Given the chaosof beeping noises nearby, along with a man’s voice he vaguely recognizes, itcan only mean one thing. “He’s awake!” Rosa says gleefully, passing Michael in the hall as she bolts forKyle’s room from the waiting lounge. Michael swears under his breath and checksthe time. It’s late, which means his parents aren’t there, but Alex and Rosaare. He’d really been hoping to be there alone when Kyle woke up, but it’s notlike he’s getting lucky today, is he? Trudging along, Michael marches towards his fate, hoping that he can somehowconvince a complete stranger to play along. He plasters a smile on his face andstands in the doorway as the nurses go through the routines, checking vitalsand coping with Kyle’s stubborn demand that he can help, since he's a doctor.He can feel Alex’s hand at the small of his back, which makes him startleslightly as Michael looks at him, wishing that Alex didn’t look so worried andupset. “This is good,” Alex says quietly, even though he sounds miserable aboutit. “He’s awake.”“Yeah,” Michael agrees, feeling the lump in his throat grow. He's glad he has the excuse to stay out of the way while the nurses check hisvitals, but eventually they leave and the doctor’s given Kyle the all-clear tosee his family and friends, which means that Michael now has to approach theterrifying reality of figuring out what Kyle knows, while Rosa and Alex linger(and Kyle’s parents arrive soon, given that they were called the moment Kyleawoke). Michael stands frozen at the side of his bed, forcing a smile on his face,trying to communicate his best, ‘play along with me’ look using only hiseyes.“Hey,” he says with a softness in his tone, watching as Kyle swivels his gazeto make eye contact with him. Lucky for him, annoying sisters (even half ones) are always going to demand attention,which means that before Kyle can blow his cover, she intervenes. “Yourboyfriend was worried,” Rosa teases, poking him in the shoulder. “Also, fuckyou for not telling me that you got cool!” she accuses, as she shoves Michaelinto the visitor’s chair so he can be close to Kyle. Michael goes, even if he looks up at Alex with a guilty expression, thinking ofall the hot chocolates they shared together, all the times they slept curled upunder Michael’s jacket, and all the secrets they’ve confessed to one another inthe early hours of the hospital’s garish lights. There’s only one man in thisroom that Michael wants to date and it’s not the one in the hospital bed.Plus, he’s been lying his ass off and Michael closes his eyes tightly, fistingthe bedsheets, waiting for the impact of his lies to come home to roost.“Hey, baby,” says Kyle, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “I’m glad you came tostay with me, even with things the way they’ve been.”Wait.Hold on.What the fuck? Did Michael have a stroke? Did Kyle? Out of the corner ofhis eye, he sees Alex’s face fall. Michael gets it, because right now, he’sstruggling to understand what’s happening. Does Kyle have some weird amnesia?Did Michael gain a new alien power or is he learning from Isobel? Finding his voice, Michael hears himself croak, “Could I have a minute alonewith Kyle, please?”Rosa and Alex glance at one another, then to Kyle. “Dad and your Mom are goingto be here soon,” she warns.“One minute,” Kyle insists. “We’ll be quick.”They both look wary about leaving, but there’s no argument from them as they go,with Michael watching Alex the whole time, forlorn and freaking out about howhe’s going to explain this, and wanting so badly to go after him instead ofstaying here, but he’s taking advantage of this chance to find out what Kyleknows. The moment they’re alone, Michael turns towards Kyle instantly. “So,” Michael says, when he’s pretty sure no one is eavesdropping. “You’re a handsomeguy, don’t get me wrong, but what the fuck?”Kyle struggles to sit up in bed and on impulse, Michael bolts forward to helphim with the pillows. Kyle really is handsome, but he’s a stranger to Michaeland everything that he’s learned about him means that he seems great, but healso seems completely not Michael’s type. He’s way too responsible and puttogether and he doesn’t feel that spark the way he does with Alex.“You saved me on that platform.”“Yeah, I grabbed you back with my hand…”“No.” Kyle says it firmly. “You saved me with your powers. I’m guessing that’swhy you’re still hanging around my hospital room weeks later and lying toeveryone,” Kyle says, narrowing his eyes. “You were worried that I was gonnatell someone that an alien saved my life?”What the actual fuck?“What the hell is going on?”“Can you hand me my phone?” Kyle requests, groaning as he reaches out.“Isobel’s gonna have my head if I don’t text her soon. I’ve been in the comafor what, thirteen days? Fuck,” he says, shaking his head. “If she hasn’tbroken up with me already, she’s going to now.”Kyle is the guy. No, not just the guy, he’s The Guy. He’s Isobel’ssteady boyfriend who she’d told their secret to (something Max had hated, butIsobel felt strongly that she had to do it, because she’d told Michael that shecould see herself marrying him someday).“What the fuck?” Michael says out loud this time.“Isobel showed me some pictures of her brothers,” Kyle says, as he texts,staring down at his phone. “I kept staring at you on the platform while wecommuted, trying to figure out how to broach the ‘hey, I’m dating your sisterand thinking about proposing’, but it never felt like the right time. I guessit serves me right nearly dying and you having to save me.”There are so many things happening that Michael needs to process. “So, you met my family, huh? I mean, it was gonna happen eventually, but alittle ahead of schedule,” Kyle jokes, his voice rough. He stares at his phoneand sighs with relief, not paying Michael any attention. “Well, I’m definitelyin trouble, but she’s not dumping me. She says you’re in a shitload of trouble,and…” Kyle trails off, glancing up at Michael. “And that you’ve got a stupidbig crush on Alex?”Michael swears under his breath, regretting all those texts to Isobel askingfor advice about his problem. “Look, just tell me you’re not about to go shouting about my secret to anyone,”Michael insists. “And I’ll get out of your hair, okay? I mean, I’ll do thefamily dinner thing when you propose to Iz, but I think maybe this is all gonnabe awkward when suddenly you dump me and hook up with my sister,” he scoffs.“Maybe.”“Oh, right, maybe,” Michael mocks.Kyle gives Michael a challenging lift of his brow. “Hey everyone,” he calls, alittle louder, like he knows that they’re all lingering outside the room likethe nosy assholes they are. “You can come in now.”It’s a flurry of activity when they rush in. Jim and Michelle rush Kyle andpress kisses to his forehead and hair, the three of them exchanging whispersabout how much they love each other. Michael clears his throat to look away,not wanting to feel jealous about the supportive parents Kyle has. The onlyother place to look is at Rosa, who’s beaming at Kyle and looking like she’sirritated to feel that way about him, or Alex, who’s still looking crushed.Better to focus on Rosa, then. Kyle reaches out for Michael’s hand in the midst of this sweet reunion,forcibly yanking on him to get him back by his side (his elbow actually popsout, so what the fuck Valenti). “I wanted you guys to be the first to know thatMichael and I have decided to call it quits,” he says, acting chagrined andsorrowed. It’s not a half-bad performance, especially when you consider thatthey’re both getting something out of this.“Oh, honey, why?” Michelle asks. “You only just woke up again and Michael’sbeen here every day waiting for you.”“Things have been tense between us for a while, seeing as I’m in love withanother woman and I’m pretty sure Michael’s got feelings for someone else,” hesays.Michael glares at him, ready to have his head for selling him out like that.“Kyle,” he hisses.“Alex, he’s got a crush on you,” Kyle says bluntly. “The girl I’ve been seeingfor a while behind Michael’s back, she’s his sister and she spilled the beans.”“Kyle Manuel Valenti!” his mother snaps.“No, it’s okay,” Michael ekes out. “It’s true. Things were tense, like we neverspoke. It was like we didn’t even know one another,” he says, staring at Kyle.“If Isobel is the one who makes him happy, then I want him to be with her,because I…” He turns to stare at Alex, knowing that he hadn’t planned to dothis with an audience, but it could be worse. “I really like you,” he admits.“While Kyle was asleep, I learned all about you and you’re this wickedly funnyand sharp and sweet guy, and you’re super hot, and I love that the first timeyou met me, you thought I was out of Kyle’s league.”“Hey!”“Oh, please, he is,” Alex snorts, but he’s clearly enraptured by Michael’swords. “Go on,” he says teasingly. “Now you’re just fishing,” Michael gets out with a strangled laugh, finding hisway to his feet so he can cross the room to stand in front of Alex. “Look, Iknow we only met because of this insane circumstance, but I think maybe I’dlike to go out to dinner with you. I feel like I already know you, like weconnected, like something…”“Cosmic,” Alex fills in the blank for him, his voice soft. “I know. I felt ittoo and I was so jealous that you were here for Kyle, but if what you’re sayingis true…”“It is,” Michael hurries to cut him off. “I was here out of obligation, but Istayed for you.” He reaches out for Alex’s hand, tugging him in towardsMichael’s personal space. “Come have dinner with me? Please?” he asks quietly. “Alex!” Rosa interrupts, when a second passes with an answer. “Don’tleave us hanging!”“Meddling family,” Alex says fondly, shaking his head. “Yes,” he says, andgrins at Michael. “Yes, I’ll go out with you.”It’s probably not the right place for it, but Michael grabs Alex’s face so hecan kiss him, leaning forward on his tiptoes to trip right into it, desperateto have the kiss that he’s been thinking about since the day he met Alex inthis hospital. Alex grabs at the collar of Michael’s jacket and hauls him infor a deeper kiss. Kyle says nothing, but Michael swears he can feel the smug satisfactionradiating behind him. In response to that, he does the only thing he thinks is right in this particularsituation. He kisses Alex even harder. *The next time that Michael sees Kyle at the subway station, he heads over toknock into him with his elbow. “Hey, future brother-in-law,” he greets, seeingas the proposal had clearly gone well, from the way that Isobel had screamedover the phone at him. “How about you stay off the tracks this time?” he jokes,even though it’s not the first time he’s seen him here since the incident, butMichael never lets a day go by without making the joke.Kyle raises his brow in that infuriating know-it-all way.“Did my coma not get you a boyfriend out of my adopted brother?”God, he’s annoying and he’s marrying into Michael’s family, which means he’snever going to escape him. “Gonna hang that one over me the rest of my life,huh? It couldn’t be that I was a super devoted fake-boyfriend through yourcoma, or maybe I was worried about the stranger I saved?”“You wanted to make sure I’d keep my mouth shut and then stayed for the hotguy, so uh, yeah. Nope. I’m definitely hanging this over you for the rest ofyour life.”He’s got him there, but then, Michael thinks he’s probably allowed to feelsuperior and smug about the fact that he helped to get Michael and Alextogether, because without Kyle’s coma, then Michael never would have met him,never would have learned about him, and never would have loved him. For that, Kyle can have bragging rights for centuries.“I’ll see you at the rehearsal dinner,” Kyle says, when he gets onto his trainand they part ways. “Don’t propose to Alex there, please?” he begs. “I want oneday for me and Isobel, not for you to marry into my family because you missRosa so much.”Michael shrugs, waiting until the doors are closing and will separate them.“No promises!” he shouts, and indulges in the frustrated look on Kyle’s face asthe subway carries him off to a day of worrying that he’s going to get upstagedat his own rehearsal dinner. Perfect. It’s going to be a great day and this is just the start. Even if he doesn’thave any intention of proposing to Alex at the dinner (he has the ring pickedout, but he intends to do it way more romantically, with a self-penned song andeverything), there’s only one thing he loves almost as much as he loves Alexand it’s winding Kyle up.Given the annoyed text he gets from Isobel pleading with him to stop annoyingKyle, Michael gets on the train heading uptown with a smirk on his face,thinking that it’s definitely working out, for all of them. 

[jaybeefoxy]

SOME QUESTIONS FOR YOUR OTP/BROTP THAT MUST BE CONSIDERED

From @crypticasterisk via @mystradeheart who posted a lovely set of prompting questions. 

Okay, here’s how my OTP/BROTP act, in my humble opinion.

Mine is Mystrade, every time, the lovely little puppies. They’re gorgeously awesome and not necessarily easy to read. 

Who slowly eases into the pool while complaining about the temperature of the water and who takes a full-force no regrets flying cannonball into the water? Mycroft is definitely the complainer, Greg throws himself in full force, and probably splashes Myc with the tidal wave. Mycroft gets him later, probably at home, by flushing the loo when Greg is showering. 

Who can easily comfort the other when they’re sick and who sprays everything down with Lysol and wears an antimicrobial mask and pats the former with a broom to comfort them when they get sick? Greg is the caregiver, he finds it easy. He’s a dad, someone who is used to mopping fevered brows at 3am and dosing those in his care with paracetamol and tea. He’s a copper, so he’s first aid trained too, and can readily leap in to correctly staunch bleeding and support a broken limb while the ambulance gets there. He’s even been known to take a casualty to A&E himself, in his car, with the blues and two on. However, if Greg is sick, Mycroft cares from a safe distance. He does know what comfort food to provide and how to make his partner feel comfortable and cared for, just don’t expect him to don a nurse’s cap and apron...

Who’s the amazing cook and who almost burns the house down trying to microwave a poptart? I’m tempted to say Mycroft is the cook and Greg can burn salad, but I think it is the other way around. Greg learned from his Gran how to cook good hearty food; savoury soups and stews, and stodgy puddings that Mycroft secretly adores but doesn’t eat that often for fear of weight gain. Mycroft never got the chance to learn to cook, and earns enough that eating out or getting take away is easy.

Who immediately goes for the can of Raid when they see a bug and who picks it up like “no wait don’t kill it I wanna keep it” Mycroft hates bugs, and may be subject to anaphylaxis if he sees a bee, never mind getting stung by one, whereas Greg always saves bees. Always. Bees are good. He can happily beat a wasp to death although beetles don’t bother him, but even Greg thinks that if the spiders get any bigger, he’s going to start charging them rent.

Who likes to lean over railings to get a better view and who freaks out and tries to pull the former back away from the rail screaming about how they might fall? Greg is the leaner. Mycroft is the Health and Safety freak. Mycroft doesn’t scream but Greg is aware of the forcefulness of Mycroft’s voice when he’s alarmed. 

Who acts like they’re brave and fearless but actually gets terrified 15 minutes into a horror movie and who is usually the huge scaredy cat but isn’t fazed at all by most horror movies? Greg is brave and fearless, honest, but some horror movies creep him out and he’s happy to hide behind a cushion, or Mycroft. Mycroft professes not to like horror but he actually knows he’s seen worse in the real world and most horror movie directors don’t know the half of it. 

Who constantly criticizes the latter’s wardrobe and who dresses even more outrageously to further annoy the former Mycroft always hates Greg’s sartorial choices, and insists on dressing him when they have to attend a formal function, however, give Greg the chance and he’ll be a right rogue and dress in something terrible just to annoy his lover. If he can get away with dressing in said terrible thing AND attending the function too, he’ll go for it.

Who likes total darkness when they sleep and who needs a night light Mycroft likes total darkness, and Greg likes a little ambient light on somewhere. It usually takes the form of a kid’s night light in the wall socket by the nightstand, just a slight soft glow. He hates sleeping in complete black out, it leaves him feeling a tad vulnerable. So Mycroft often sleeps with eye shades on, soft silk ones of course, just so Greg can drift off in comfort.

Who loves kids and who scowls at the mere sight of them Greg loves kids, but Mycroft treats them with a little trepidation. He’s not used to them, not normal ones anyway, not the screamers and the chatty ones who talk nonsense and think they are gifting secrets. Greg on the other hand can calm fractious babies with a cuddle, and sooth weepy kids with a sweet treat, gives them something to do, even if it’s sitting at his desk, scribbling in biro on scrap paper. He’s everyone’s favourite uncle, or dad, and he fathers his own team too, but Mycroft is a little too stiff for dealing with little ones, despite a rather fierce protective streak when it comes to little Rosie, who has adopted Uncle Mycroft despite Mycroft’s misgivings.

Who plays games competitively and sucks at them and who plays games casually and is actually really heckin good? Greg is the competitive one, but he’s a bit hit and miss, while Mycroft doesn’t care and manages to win without seeming to try. Greg is never going to play monopoly with Myc again. The only game he’s won so far is Yahtzee and that was because Mycroft took a while to understand the purpose of the thing.

Who can handle spicy foods perfectly and who chugs an entire gallon of milk after accidentally eating one jalapeño Greg likes spicy food, even if it doesn’t like him. He does have his limits but spicy food does a number on his digestion and he tends to leave it alone. He won’t flinch at eating a Jalapeno though, despite the results. Mycroft is the more sedate eater, although he can handle hot food, he doesn’t quite like it, although he doesn’t mind Moroccan.

And here’s a few more..

Who complains about how expensive everything is when they go shopping? Greg. If Mycroft buys him things, Greg always protests that it’s too expensive.  If Greg has to buy something, like socks, he goes cheap. He doesn’t see the reason to waste money on some stuff. Mycroft would happily buy everything they eat from Fortnum and Mason, although clothing is usually bespoke. M&S sometimes makes the grade but not often. Selfridges is closer. Nobody even mention Primark...

Who asks for more sweets and frozen pizza?  Greg, obviously, although Mycroft does have a sweet tooth for mints.

Who wakes the other in the middle of the night to tell them about the cool dream they just had? Greg is the dreamer, and has started to keep a notebook by the bed to write them down. Mycroft is often awake until late and doesn’t really mind when Greg insists on telling him his exploits from his dreams. Shooting Dinosaurs on a spaceship? Whatever next?

Who likes to take photos of the other when they’re not looking? Greg is the one to snap Mycroft when he’s not looking and thinks he’s the only one who does it, but Mycroft is just as bad, but doesn’t get caught. 

Who suggests tv show marathons and does the other agree easily or do they have to be promised stuff like sex or a massage or a romantic dinner later in order to get them to agree? Greg usually suggests their marathon boxed set viewing, but was surprised when Mycroft suggested, and watched, Downton Abbey, all the way through. Without requiring sweeteners. Although he was quite taken with their role play in the bedroom later when Greg acted as a rather naughty valet to his lordship...

Who sings in the shower and who secretly enjoys listening to it? Greg has quite a nice voice in the shower, not to mention out of it, but he rarely risks singing, despite the fact Mycroft loves listening to it. One day, he might just persuade Greg to record a CD. 

Who texts the other a lot to tell about the jerk on the traffic or about someone’s new haircut or to ask if they had lunch already? Greg is the texter, although he usually rants when he gets home. Mycroft has already scheduled an extra twenty minutes into his day to be the ear for Greg’s gripes about how his day went, from the idiot who cut him up on the way to work (the pitiful unfortunate whose number plate he called in and suggested to Traffic they intercept and check for illegal substances), to the moronic drunk who decided it was a good idea to piss all over a crime scene.  So far, though, he has resisted ranting about the new computer tech’s hair cut...

Who forgets coins in jeans pockets and who trips on their own shoelace in the early morning because they forgot to tie it because they’re too sleepy? Greg. Gregory Lestrade is NOT a morning person. 

[ssilverstreak]

A Cat, a Fox, and a Bee walk into a Bakery 12

Chat could almost feel the stress of the day melting away as he bounded across the rooftops.

He had ended up missing the entire day of school, stuck in a photoshoot that felt like it would never end. His back ached from standing up straight or assuming weird positions that still looked good on camera, his feet felt like they were going to fall off, and all he wanted was to snuggle down with his amazing girlfriends and destress.

Unfortunately, black cats were rarely so lucky as to get what they wanted.

The light was on in Marinette’s room, so he didn’t bother to knock and just opened up the rooftop hatch, only to freeze as three baleful glares settled on him.

He wasn’t sure what he did, but whatever it was he never wanted to do it again if it made his girlfriends glare at him like that.

Thankfully the glaring didn’t last long, as all three of them settled back down in the massive nest of blankets and pillows that they were cuddling in.  Carefully, Chat slipped into the room and shut the hatch behind him, taking in the empty pints of ice cream and the trio of heating pads that the three were pressing to their lower bellies.  “Are you all okay?”

Queen Bee bristled, only to have the clearly brewing rant cut off when Vixen leaned over and kissed her cheek.  She huffed and looked away, but all of them could clearly see the blush dusting her cheeks.

“It’s that time of the month,” Marinette groaned from where she was leaning against Vixen and using her (well-padded) chest as a pillow.  And stealing her body heat, that too.

Chat blinked, then blinked again as a (strongly suppressed) memory hit him: his father ducking out of giving him The Talk and ordering Nathalie to do it, despite the woman’s icy protest that it wasn’t in her job description.

Well, she had given him a (very well informed) Talk, and had made sure to go into detail about what women went through every month.

He wasn’t sure what Nathalie had done to his father afterwards, but the man had practically tiptoed around his assistant for the next month and a half, and it had been a full six months before he had been back to normal.  One thing he could agree with his father on, Nathalie was terrifying the rare times she got angry.

“Um… is there any way I can help?” Chat finally asked, unsure where to go from that point.

“Rip out our uteruses,” Queen Bee said darkly from where she was face down in some pillows.

“Yessssss.” Marinette sat bolt upright.  “Well, not the ripping out organs thing.  Store run, please Chaton.  We’re out of painkillers and tampons and ice cream.”

“Store run.  Yes.  I can do that.” Chat breathed a sigh of relief, then tensed up again.  “Um, what kind of-“

“We’ll make you a list,” Vixen promised.  “Though if you could bring some paper and a pen, I don’t think any of us feel up to getting up right now.”

Fifteen minutes later (a good ten of which had been spent prodding a grumpy Queen Bee to ask what brand of tampons and what flavor of ice cream she wanted) Chat was making his way to the closest pharmacy by way of rooftop.  Briefly he considered dropping the transformation and then going inside, but a combination of not having any cheese for Plagg and not wanting to listen to his father’s disappointed lecture if someone took a picture of Adrien Agreste buying tampons decided him against it.

“Plagg, can I have my wallet?” He asked the ring, then lightly tapped at one of his pockets.  At the third tap, the pocket suddenly felt fuller, and he unzipped it and pulled out his wallet.  “Thanks.  I’ll get some cheese bread for you from the bakery before I leave tonight.”

That accomplished, he pulled several bills from his wallet before putting it away, then jumped down from the pharmacy’s roof to the ground and headed inside.

The painkillers were easy, and he tossed a couple bottles into the basket on his arm while trying to ignore the cashier taking pictures with his phone.  Deciding to leave the ice cream for last so that it wouldn’t melt, he headed for the ‘feminine hygiene’ section.

His eyes widened, his ears splayed, and his tail drooped to drag limply on the ground as he saw the sheer range of different kinds of tampons and pads.  Hurriedly, he scrabbled for the list and peered at it, sighing in relief that Vixen had the foresight to write detailed notes about exactly what kind of box to get, even including the color.  It still took him a few minutes to track down the exact one, but it soon joined the painkillers in the basket.

The ice cream went faster, and he grabbed a fourth pint for himself before heading up to the counter. On the way, he passed a standing glass-door refrigerator filled with flowers, and on impulse opened the door and pulled out a yellow, an orange, and a pink one, carrying them up to the register.

The cashier took in the range of what Chat was buying, lingering on the tampons and flowers, and shot him a wry grin.  “So, we’ll just say that if Hawkmoth knows what’s good for him, he won’t send out an akuma tonight?”

“Not if he has any self-preservation.” Chat gave a wry grin in return as the cashier scanned and bagged everything.

After paying, it only took him a few minutes to return to the bakery.  His return was met with, if not shining smiles, at least sincere gratitude. Pulling the flowers out earned him a kiss on the cheek from each of the girls, which alone would have made the entire trip worth it.

Chat picked out a movie (The Princess Bride, which earned him another kiss on the cheek from Queen Bee) while the girls each made a quick trip to the bathroom, and soon all four of them were settled in the blanket nest with their ice cream.  Chat felt himself finally relaxing, a low purr rumbling from his chest as he wiggled into the cuddle pile.

“Oh my gosh keep doing that,” Marinette said as she pressed close.

“Keep doing what?” Chat’s purr cut off in his confusion.

“The purring,” Queen Bee said shortly.  To her credit, despite clearly being on edge, she was trying to keep her temper in check. “It helps with the pain.”

Chat blinked, then gave a slow smile.  “Now that, I can do.”  All three of his girlfriends pressed in close, and he ratcheted up his purr, not that it took much coaxing.

Now this, this was much better than any photoshoot.

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

Secret Diary’s Guide to the Interwebz

Sorry for the lack of activity on here lately, folks. I haven’t fallen off the face of the Earth, I just haven’t had the energy to blog and deal with real life lately. One or t’other had to give, and real life is marginally more important. However, I am working on a fairly substantial new blog post, which should be up in the next couple of days, so if you enjoy my rants and polemics, stay tuned for that.

Since I can’t be arsed to write anything properly today, I might as well piss away some time on an utterly trivial matter. Y’see, I’ve been thinking about how I’d describe various prominent websites to someone who’d never encountered the internet before. What could I possibly say that would give this hypothetical person a flavour of modern web culture? I think I’ve come up with some good answers.

Reddit. About 50% genuinely funny jokes and 50% abject, blithering xenophobia. I think the key to Reddit’s nature is that it’s basically just a message board that inexplicably failed to die when the 1990s did. That’s enough to give any online entity an identity crisis. It’s worth being wary of any opinion expressed on Reddit, because it’s probably being expressed by a rightwing lunatic with a brain the size of a peanut.

Tumblr. Have you ever wondered whether you’re more or less oppressed than the members of a given demographic? Well, step right up and visit Tumblr, where 25 people will be more than happy to tell (probably in very patronising tones). At least one of them will have made a graph and/or a crudely-drawn cartoon designed to tell you exactly how much of a “shitlord” you are.

DeviantArt. All sound and furries, signifying nothing.

Facebook. Facebook is basically Mark Zuckerberg’s ongoing campaign to devalue the concept of friendship. It works like this: people pester you to add them as ‘friends’, so you can communicate and see eachothers posts. You then have to look at their posts for years after you’ve forgotten who they are or where you know them from. 90% of their posts could be been typed by a sparrow pecking aimlessly at a keyboard so you decide that you hate them. Congratulations: you are now “friends” with a whole bunch of people who you want to kill with a power drill.

Youtube. It’s the video hosting service where all your favourite content creators go when they get fired from whichever site they used to work for. Some of them still produce good stuff... most of them have clearly gone a bit wrong.There’s also some brilliant original content by people who started on youtube. Unfortunately, you won’t see any of it, because you’ll be distracted by the 8 billion softcore porn videos and 15 billion Bee Movie piss-takes that show up before any of the good stuff.

Steam. You like cheap, good games, right? Top-hole, old chap: have fun ferreting them out from the steaming pile of garbage Valve has buried them in.

eHarmony. It’s dating, but for people who you desperately want to throw out of an airplane.

Netflix. If Santa Clause, the Easter Bunny and all your favourite porn stars got together to create something that would bring the world joy, Netflix is the exact thing they’d come up with.

I could go on. But I won’t.