#their tears ricochet wow

[ringosmistress]

[lynx-224]

ok fine i’ll reread the revenge of the sith novelization and cry to my tears ricochet as anakin and obi wan fight

[swiftlark]

swiftlark...but consider....... swift haymitch

much to consider…

[waitimcomingtoo]

Bringing Sexy Back

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Synopsis: Peter tries and fails to seduce you

Masterlist

To kick off the summer, Tony organized a group vacation to a resort at “one of his less crowded islands”, as he put it. The team sat together on the quinjet while Tony gave out the room assignments to everyone, ending with you and Peter.

“Parker and my beloved offspring, you’re in the penthouse suit with me. But don’t worry, you guys have your own room. It’s just connected to mine with thin walls and a door I can easily break down.” Tony said with a calm smile.

“Thanks, dad.” You smiled back at him before excusing yourself to go to the bathroom. Once you were gone, Sam leaned over to him.

“Wow, I feel for you, man. You really got the short end of the stick.” Sam said and patted Peters back.

“Short? I’m 5��8. That’s average height.” Peter defended himself.

“For a woman.” Sam snorted. “But that’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?” Peter wondered.

“I mean you finally get to spend the night with your girlfriend and her dad is in the next room. That means the only way you’re getting laid is if you crawl up a chicken's ass and wait.” Sam replied, making everyone laugh at Peters's expense.

“Oh. That’s gotta hurt.” Bruce laughed. “It hurt me and it wasn’t even directed at me.”

“That’s called a ricochet.” Natasha said. “Also done by bullets and Taylor Swifts tears.”

“I understood that reference.” Steve chimed in.

“Did you?” Peter asked skeptically, making Steve’s smile fall.

“That’s the one that sings “Single Ladies”, right?” He whispered to Natasha.

“Uh huh.” Natasha smiled sarcastically.

“Are you gonna take that, Parker?” Bruce asked Peter. Peter noticed everyone was looking at him and blushed in embarrassment.

“It wasn’t that clever. Chickens don’t even lay eggs. Hens do. And we don’t do that so it doesn’t matter.” He mumbled. Everyone’s eyes widths they leaned forward in their seats.

“Don’t do what?” Sam asked for clarification. Peter looked around at all the peering eyes and shrunk down in his seat.

“Sex.” Peter reluctantly admitted.

“You don’t do sex?” Sam laughed in surprise.

“Have we forgotten how to speak?” Natasha asked the crowd.

“Why are you guys all looking at me the way we looked at Bucky when he told us he didn’t wash his ass in the shower?” Peter asked.

“It honestly never crossed my mind.” Bucky shrugged.

“Hold on. How long have you guys been together?” Bruce asked Peter.

“Two months.”

“Two months? And you haven’t smushed yet?” Sam gasped.

“Ew. Smushed? There’s no actual smushing involved, right?” Peter forced a laugh. No one replied and his smile fell.

“Right?” He asked seriously.

“No offense kid, but that’s a long time to keep a lady waiting.” Steve said. “You two need to do a little bit of the old how’s yer father, if you know what I mean.”

“I don’t. What the fuck does that mean?” Sam asked and pulled out his phone.

“Who are you to talk? Aren’t you a 1,000 year old virgin?” Peter deadpanned.

“100 years.” Steve corrected. “And yes. I am.”

“No he’s not.” Bucky said.

“I googled it. It was Steve’s old man way of saying putting some stank on it.” Sam read off his phone.

“Why haven’t you guys done it yet?” Natasha wondered. “It’s not like you just met. You’ve known her for years.”

“Yeah, but she’s only been my girlfriend for two months of those years. It’s a big transition. We’re waiting for the right moment.”

“So you’ve talked about it?” Steve asked him.

“Well, no.” Peter admitted. “I’m just assuming.”

“Assuming what exactly?” Natasha asked.

“That’s she’s waiting for the right moment to tell me she wants to do it. And then it’ll just happen then.” Peter shrugged.

“Hm.” Natasha said curtly. Peter noticed the look on everyone’s face and grew worried.

“What?” He laughed nervously.

“Nothing.” Steve shrugged and avoided eye contact.

“You can’t make that face and say “hm” and then not tell me.” Peter insisted.

“I think she’s ready.” Steve admitted. “I think she’s more than ready. You’re the one who’s not ready. That’s why you haven’t made a move yet.”

“She could’ve made a move.” Peter pointed out.

“No girl wants that.” Sam waved his hand. “They want their man to take charge and sweep them off their feet. You know, romance? Making her feel special?”

“She hates being lifted off her feet.” Peter insisted. “I picked her up once and she punched me in the throat and the bing bongs at the same time.”

“Hey, I taught her that move. I’m glad to see she’s using it.” Natasha smiled proudly.

“I have to agree with Sam on this one.” Steve said. “Girls like a romantic gesture. I’m not saying you have to literally sweep her off her feet, but make it clear that you want her. Or else she’s gonna start to feel under appreciated and unseen.”

“You guys don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re waiting and that’s okay.” Peter insisted.

“She’s waiting. For you. To make a God damn move already.” Sam replied.

“And you know what happens if you wait too long?”

“What happens?” Peter gulped.

“She’ll find someone who’s ready now.” Sam shrugged.

“Well what am I supposed to do? How do I make her feel special?”

“She was your best friend before your girlfriend right?” Bruce asked him.

“Yeah.”

“So she should be the person you’re most comfortable with. Just make a move. She’ll make a move in return. That’s how it works.” Bruce explained.

“Just like that?” Peter asked skeptically.

“Just like that.” Sam confirmed. By the point, you were back from the bathroom and sitting in a seat by yourself. Peter graced himself before going over to sit beside you.

“Hey.” Peter smiled at you.

“Hey Petey. What’s going on?” You smiled back.

“Nothing much. Just wanted to come sit by my lady.” He said and wrapped an arm around you.

“Aw. You’re so cute.” You smiled and leaned into him.

“You’re cute. Are these new?” He asked and tugged on the hem of your shorts.

“New to me.” You shrugged. “I stole them from Pepper.”

“I like them. They look good on you.” He said as he looked into your eyes. You smiled at the compliment and leaned in to kiss his cheek. Peter blushed and looked over his shoulder at Sam, who was nodding his head to give him the go ahead. Peter nodded back before returning his attention to you. He went to put his hand on your thigh, but since the action was unnatural to him, he ended up grabbing your thigh so quickly and harshly that you jumped.

“Oh my God. What was that?” You gasped and pushed his hand off.

“Sorry. There was a spider on your leg.” Peter quickly lied.

“And you killed it? Isn’t that like…cannibalism?” You asked him.

“No.” Peter chuckled. “Wait. Oh my God. Is it?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “But thanks for killing it. I didn’t even feel it on my leg.”

“Hm. Weird.” Peter forced a laugh. He looked over at Sam again, who was shaking his head in disappointment.

“This is gonna be harder than I thought.” Peter thought to himself.

With Tony in the room right next store, Peter didn’t dare try anything while on the vacation. But once you returned to the tower a week later, it was game time.

“Peter? Are you in here?” You asked as you knocked on his bedroom door one day.

“One second, baby. I’m in the shower.” Peter called to you from the bathroom in his room.

“Okay. I’ll wait out here.” You shouted back and took a seat on his bed. Peter heard your response and thought back to what the team said about making a move. Before he could second guess himself, he called out again.

“You don’t have to do that. Why don’t you join me?”

“What? I can’t hear you over the water.” You said as you walked over to the bathroom door so he could hear you better.

“I didn’t say anything.” He lied when he felt he had failed.

“Oh. It sounded like you did.” You laughed and leaned against his bathroom door.

“That was just the sound of my shampoo bottle falling.” Peter lied.

“Oh. Okay.” You answered skeptically. You were about to go back to his bed when you heard a loud thud.

“Peter? What was that? Did you shampoo fall again?” You opened the door a little to ask him.

“No. My body did.” Peter groaned from the shower floor.

“Oh no. Are you okay?”

“Not really.” He winced. “I think I twisted my ankle.”

“Do you need help?”

“Yeah, but…” Peter began but trailed off.

“But what?” You asked.

“I’m nakey.” He said in a little voice.

“I’ll close my eyes, okay?” You laughed.

“You don’t have to. I just wanted to warn you that you’re about to see the biggest penis you’ve ever seen.” Peter said seriously, making you laugh again.

“Oh really? Is Thor in there?” You asked.

“That was hurtful.”

“You’re such an idiot. I’m coming in, okay? Hide your massive penis.” You warned as you entered the bathroom.

“I’ll try. But it won’t be easy.” Peter sighed. You opened the shower door with your elbow while covering your eyes with both hands.

“I’m here. Can you see me?” You asked him.

“Why would o not be able to see you? You’re the one with your eyes covered.”

“Oh. Right. Where are you?”

“The floor. Because I fell. That’s typically where people end up after they fall.”

“I should just leave you here to drown.” You said and turned to leave.

“Wait, come back. Please.” Peter whined. “They’ll never find a casket big enough to hold my massive schlong.”

“I hate you so much.” You laughed and came back. You bent down and helped him off the floor but grabbing his arm.

“Ah!” You screamed and dropped his arm.

“What?”

“You’re wet.” You grimaced.

“I’m in the shower.” He reminded you.

“I don’t know why but I wasn’t expecting you to be wet. Put my hand on the knob. I’ll turn it off.” You told him. Peter took your hand and guided it to the knob while you kept your eyes tightly shut. You heard the sound of the water turning off and Peter sighing in relief.

“There we go. Much better.” He said.

“Okay. I’m gonna pick you up now.” You told him and bent down to wrap your arms around his torso.

“Ah!” He screamed.

“What?”

“That tickles.” He sheepishly admitted.

“Oh my God.” You laughed. “Where’s your robe?”

“Hanging on the back of the door.” He told you. You kept your eyes shut but walked over to the door and felt around until you found his robe.

“Okay. I found it.”

“Throw it at me.” Peter said. You threw it outwards and it smacked him in the face. “You got it?”

“Yes. Ow.” Peter huffed as he put it on.

“Sorry.” You grimaced.

“Okay. You can open your eyes now.”

“Okay.” You said but didn’t open them.

“Baby. You open them.” Peter laughed.

“Sorry. I got scared.” You admitted as you opened your eyes.

“Of what?” Peter gulped, thinking you were scared to see him naked.

“Of seeing you on the shower floor and getting the biggest ick of my entire life.” You replied, making Peter laugh in relief.

“Fair enough.”

“Come on, little guy. I gotcha.” You bent down and helped him up with ease now that you could see.

“What did we say about calling me “little guy”?” Peter reminded you.

“That it’s funny and hilarious?” You asked innocently as you helped lead him out of the bathroom.

“Those are synonyms.”

“What about cinnamon?”

“What?”

“What?” You asked in reply. He shook his head endearingly as you walked him over to his bed.

“Okay. We’re here. Sit down.” You said and helped him into his bed.

“Well that was fun. And wet.” Peter said as he combed his wet hair out of his face with his fingers.

“You’re telling me.” You said and showed him your now soaking wet shirt.

“Sorry about that. You can grab a shirt from my closet.” He told you.

“Thanks.” You smiled at him before going over to his closet. You pulled out a T shirt and we’re about to put it on when you felt his eyes on you. You looked over your shoulder at him and he turned red.

“I’ll close my eyes.” Peter offered.

“It’s okay. You can watch. I don’t mind.” You smiled innocently at him before turning back around. Peter gulped as you pulled your shirt off and stayed perfectly silent. He could see your bra band when your hair moved and though it wasn’t much, it was as naked as he had ever seen you. You’d never been in so much as bathing suits around the other so this showing of skin was both unexpected but highly anticipated. Peter watched you pull his shirt over your head and fix your hair before turning back around.

“Better?” He asked in a soft voice.

“Better.” You nodded. He couldn’t help but wonder if you knew about the conversation he had had with the team. It wasn’t like you to get changed in front of him so maybe you weren’t trying to make a move as well.

“How’s your ankle feeling?” You asked as you sat on Peters bed.

“Not bad. I think it’s already healing.” He said and moved his robe to look at it.

“Good. You need it to climb walls and shoot webs out of your butt and stuff.”

“I have told you so many times.” Peter sighed. “The webs do not come out of my butt.”

“There is no doubt in my mind that you’re lying and just won’t show me. And that’s fine.” You shrugged.

“You’re ridiculous.” He laughed and took your hand.

“Yeah. Maybe a little.” You chuckled and played with his fingers. A comfortable silence filled the room as Peter started to form a plan in his head.

“So.” He laughed nervously. “Here we are. In my room. Alone.”

“I know. It’s nice.”

“You think so?” Peter asked hopefully.

“Yeah. It’s so rare we get time when no one else is around. It can finally just be the two of us.” You said and reached out to brush some hair off his forehead. Peter felt his whole face flush and scooted a little closer to you.

“I’ve actually been hoping we’d get some alone time.” He told you.

“Me too.” You smiled coyly and leaned in a little.

“Did you have anything in mind you want to do?” He asked and leaned in as well.

“I could think of a few things.” You flirted.

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“For starters, you’ll have to lose this robe.” You said and ran your hand along the collar of his robe. Peter gulped as you got up and went back over to his closet.

“Done.” Peter nodded as he frantically started to undo the belt of his robe.

“And put this on.” You said as you tossed him some pajamas.

“Whatever you say, pretty girl. Wait, what? What’s this?” Peters smile fell when the pajamas fell into his lap.

“Pajamas. So you can get comfy and we can finally watch New Girl before it leaves Netflix.” You told him.

“Oh. Right. Pajamas. I’ll just put these on.” Peter tried to mask the disappointment in his voice as he tugged his shirt over his head. By the time you were snuggled into his side with your head on his shoulder, his disappointment was gone. He had gotten so caught up in what the team had said that he forgot to appreciate the little moments with you. He let it go for tonight and just enjoyed spending time together.

The next day, he was back on his bullshit. He found you in the kitchen with your back to him as you flipped through a magazine. Peter and wrapped his arms around you and placed a kiss on your shoulder to let you know he meant business.

“Hey you.” He said as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Hey Petey. What’s going on?” You smiled over your shoulder at him.

“Nothing. I just wanted to see you.”

“You’re so sweet lately. What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing. I just really like you.” He replied and kissed your shoulder again. He decided to make a move and tilted his chin a little higher so he could kiss your neck.

“Fuck me.” You whispered as you flipped a page of your magazine. Peter immediately perked up and turned you around, thinking his plan had worked.

“What was that?” He gulped as his face burned bright red.

“Sorry. Paper cut.” You said and held up your bleeding finger. Peter took a split second to realized you were cursing, not requesting, before jumping into action.

“Here. Let me help.” He said and gently took your finger. He walked to the bathroom with you and turned on the faucet. He was about to put in under the water when he got a different idea. He looked you right in the eyes as he took your finger into his mouth and sucked the blood off of it. You watched him as he did this and gulped a little.

“Peter?” You asked in a soft voice. A hope sparked in Peter’s chest that he had successfully made a move.

“Yes?”

“Do you have any idea how many germs you just put in my open wound?” You said, making all Peters hope disappear.

“Oh. Sorry.” He shook his head in embarrassment and held your finger under the running water.

“Why did you turn the water on and then suck it instead?” You asked him. Peter thought about lying, but knew it was no use.

“I…I thought it would be sexy.” He admitted.

“You thought sucking my paper cut would be sexy? Okay, Edward.” You snorted as you got a bandaid out of the cabinet for yourself.

“Edward? Who’s that?” Peter felt a hot flash of jealousy over the mention of another boys name. He normally wouldn’t have that reaction, but he was extra sensitive after what Steve said about you finding someone else.

“The vampire from Twilight. Relax.” You laughed in surprise.

“Oh. Right.” He smiled in embarrassment.

“Peter Parker. Were you jealous at the mere drop of another boys name?” You playfully gasped.

“Is that bad?” Peter asked as he helped put a bandaid on your finger.

“I don’t think it’s bad.” You shrugged. “I think it’s kinda hot that you’re the jealous type. As long as you don’t get all possessive on me.”

“I won’t. I’ve seen enough white women with “love her but leave her wild” tattooed on them to know better.” Peter replied, making you laugh.

“Well that’s good to hear. And for what it’s worth, you’ve proven to be a lovely boyfriend so far. I’ve really enjoyed these past few months.”

“So have I.” Peter smiled softly. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss to let him know all was forgiven.

“So why were you trying to be sexy before?” You asked once you pulled away.

“I don’t know. I was just trying to make a move.” He sheepishly admitted.

“Make a move? Why would you need to do that?” You laughed. Peter could barely conceal the disappointment that he felt from your response. It seemed like the number one thing on his mind right now was the last thing on yours.

“Oh. I don’t know.” He faked a smile. You took his face in your hands and made him look at you.

“Petey, if you want me, just take me.” You said like it was obvious.

So he took you.

Peter wrapped an arm around your waist and lifted you with ease as he kissed you. You anchored your arms around his neck so that you wouldn’t slide off as he carried you to his room. Peter laid you down on his bed without ever breaking the kiss. Both of you could feel the electricity in the air and knew something big was about to happen. But before you could get too far, the door opened.

“Hey guys - stop screaming, it’s me.” Sam held up a hand when he was met with screams from you and Peter.

“We know it’s you. What do you want?” Peter groaned.

“Nothing. I’m just bored.” Sam shrugged and took a bite of his sandwich in his hand. You and Peter stared at him in disbelief of his inability to read a room while he noisily chewed his food.

“So what are you guys up to?” He asked and pointed between the two of you.

“Take a wild guess.” You said sarcastically.

“I would tell you what I think is happening.” Thor chuckled. “But I know that’s not the case since you two don’t-“

“Sam.” Peter cut him off.

“Did I say too much? Sorry. I’ll leave you alone.” Sam winked at Peter before leaving the room. The silence between you was uncomfortable as you struggled to know what to say.

“What was he about to say?” You asked an after a minute.

“I have no idea.” Peter lied. You looked at him and he knew he was caught.

“Don’t lie to me. Was he gonna say we don’t hook up?”

“Yeah. He was.” He admitted.

“You told him that?” You asked and got off his bed to put some distance between you.

“No. I would never.” He assured you. “It came up on the plane the other day. They were teasing me about you and it just kinda came out that we haven’t…you know.”

“Oh. Okay.” You nodded but didn’t seem fully convinced.

“I’m sorry. I know you like to be private.”

“It’s not your fault. I just worried that you had been complaining to them that we don’t…” You trailed off and Peter realized why you were upset.

“Honey. Never.” He assured you as he took your hand and gave it a squeeze. This seemed to ease your mind and you sat back down on his bed.

“Okay. Good.” You smiled in relief. Peter avoided looking at you as he rubbed his thumb over your knuckles.

“Does it bother you? That we haven’t done it yet?” He asked as a deep blush spread across his face.

“Well,-“ You began.

“Do you guys know the Hulu password?” Sam asked as he opened Peters door again.

“Get out!” Peter shouted and threw a pillow at him.

“I’m trying to watch Bridesmaids. Please.” Sam whined. “I’m desperate. They just added it back on there.”

“Oh my God.“ Peter groaned and rubbed his eyes, knowing the moment had lost.

“Go ask my dad or something.” You huffed.

“You guys suck. Not you, Y/n. Clearly.” Sam laughed at his own joke and left the room again. A awkward silence filled the room again and Peter felt like the worst person in the world. He knew it bothered you that he had told the team something personal and even worse, he could feel your disappointment in him.

“I’m gonna go.” You said to break the silence. You got off the bed and Peter felt you quickly slipping out of his hands.

“Wait! Don’t leave.” He pleaded.

“I have to go move my car.” You said hastily.

“Can we please talk about this?”

“I have to go move my car!” You exclaimed and swiftly left the room.

“I know you don’t have to do that!” He called after you. “We’ve watched New Girl together. I know you got that from Nick Miller.”

Peter let out a frustrated sigh and flopped on his bed. He wasn’t alone for long before Pepper and Thor knocked on his door.

“Hey, kiddo.” Pepper said kindly.

“Woah. Weird combo. Have you two ever interacted before?” Peter asked and pointed between the two of them. They looked at each other and shook their heads.

“No.” They said in unison.

“So what were you doing outside my door?”

“Not that we were listening to your entire conversation, but we were. And you guys need to talk about this.” Pepper said as she sat on Peters bed.

“We tried.” Peter sighed. “Sam kept interrupting.”

“But even before he interrupted, you weren’t really getting anywhere, were you?” Pepper asked kindly.

“What do you mean?”

“Neither of you could even say the word “sex”. How do you expect to do it if you can’t even say it?”

“I don’t know. I never thought about that.” Peter realized.

“You need to have a mature conversation with her about this. That’s the only way to know how she’s feeling and to let her know what you’re feeling.” Pepper said and patted Peters knee.

“Okay. I guess you’re right.”

“Or.” Thor began, getting Peter’s attention.

“Or? There’s another option?” Peter perked up.

“Yes. Here’s what you do. You seduce her. No words, only passion.”

“I’m listening.” Peter leaned in.

“You spray yourself with a sexy body spray. You put some sexy sheets on your bed. You lure her to your bedroom. You play a sexy song. You dim the lights because bad lighting is sexy. You light some sexy candles. You make the setting so irresistible that you won’t need words. She’ll know exactly what’s about to happen.” Thor told him.

“I think that’s a solid plan.” Peter nodded along.

“That’s a horrible plan.” Pepper exclaimed. “That is the dumbest plan I have ever heard. You clearly need to talk to her.”

“How sexy of a song are we talking here?” Peter ignored her.

“The sexiest. But don’t confuse that with raunchy. She’s not gonna get in the mood if she walks in to some degrading song. You need to pick the perfect playlist that does all the talking for you.” Thor told him.

“Or, you could do the talking for you.” Pepper suggested.

“No. I’m gonna go with Thors idea.” Peter decided.

“Huzzah!” Thor raised his arms in triumph.

“Huzzah? How come sometimes you soudn completly normal and sometimes you sound like a World of Warcraft character?” Peter asked him.

“I’m not familiar with this World of Warcraft. But if I had fought in it, I would’ve won.” Thor smiled proudly.

“Thanks for the advice guys. I know what im gonna do.”

The next day, the plan was in action. Peter found some red silk sheets from a box in Tony’s room labeled “my bachelor era” and put them on his bed. He doused himself with a cologne he borrowed from Bruce before taking off his shirt and rubbing baby oil all over his chest, leaving him in just his black boxers. He looked at himself in the mirror and flexed his muscles.

“Perfect.” He decided. Now it was time to lure you in, just like Thor told him.

“FRIDAY, play Careless Whisper. George Michael.” Peter requested.

“Playing Careless Whisper.” FRIDAY said and the song began to blast from the speakers.

“Thank you. Now dim the lights.”

“Dimming, sir.” FRIDAY complied.

“Time to lure.” Peter smiled wickedly. He pulled out his phone and tried to text you but his fingers were too slippery from the baby oil.

“Damn it. FRIDAY, text Y/n stark and tell her to meet me in my room. And say it’s urgent.”

“Texting Tony and Y/n Stark.” FRIDAY, replied, but the music was too loud for Peter to hear it.

“The trap is set. Now we wait.” Peter excitedly rubbed his hands together and turned around. It wasn’t long before he heard his door opening behind him.

“Peter? Are you in here?” He heard your voice and slowly turned around.

“Well hello - TONY?! I mean, Mr. Stark? What, uh, what are you doing here?” Peter laugh nervously and covered his crotch with his hands. You looked at his piled up body and boxers and slapped both hands over your mouth to stifle your laugh. Once you realized what song was playing, you had to turn around so your dad didn’t see you losing it.

“What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Are you covered in sunblock?” Tony asked him.

“No. It’s baby oil.” Peter sheepishly admitted.

“Was that supposed to make this less weird?” Tony asked out of the corner of his mouth.

“Why is he here?” Peter whined and looked at you.

“You texted both of us and said it was urgent. I thought you fell im the shower again.” You explained as you struggled to make eye contact because of how distracting his shiny abs were.

“Again? Peter, can’t you stick to walls? How did you fall in the shower?” Tony wondered.

“I slipped, okay? I’m only human. And a little bit spider.” Peter mumbled.

“Wait a second.” Tony held up a finger when he took in his surroundings.

“Sexy music.” Tony gasped and pointed to the speaker.

“Candles.” He gasped louder and pointed to the candles.

“Baby oil.” He gasped even louder and pointed to Peter. He then walked over to Peter’s dresser and let out the loudest gasp of all.

“Pack of extra small condoms?” He gasped and put his hand over his heart. He then looked at Peter with the rage of a thousand men. Peter looked at you, who looked like a mixture of surprise, embarrassment, and fondness.

“Um, it’s not what it looks like?” Peter said weakly. Tony threw the box of condoms at him and it stuck to Peters oiled chest.

“I knew it! You derelict. You ne’re-do-well. You scallawag. You were gonna try to sex my daughter, weren’t you?”

“Can that word be used in that way?” You wondered out loud.

“No. It’s not a verb. Your form was incorrect.” Peter told Tony, immediately regretting it.

“How’s this for form?” Tony asked and raised both his fists as if he was about to mollywhop Peter. You quickly stepped between them and held up a hand.

“Dad. Stop. You’re not gonna fight Peter. You’re obviously misreading things. There’s no way he brought me in here for that. Right, Peter?”

“Uhhh….” Peter trailed off and smiled weakly. Your jaw dropped for a second, but then you looked really pleased. Tony saw the look on your face and let out a loud, elongated groan.

“Goodbye. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go rinse my eyes out with drain cleaner.” Tony stared at you both in disgust as he walked out.

“Dad. You’re embarrassing me.” You whined.

“FRIDAY, add baby oil to the shopping list. Somebody used it all.” Tony called out as he left the room.

Once you were alone, you and Peter looked at each other and laughed in embarrassment.

“Did you really do all this for me?” You asked and rubbed his oiled up shoulder.

“I did. And it was incredibly stupid. I’m sorry.”

“Why did you do it then?”

“Because I wanted our first time to be special. You deserve special.” Peter sighed. You pouted and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

“Aw, Peter.”

“I know. It was dumb.” He sighed.

“It wasn’t dumb. I think it was really sweet.” You assured him. “Just executed in a kind of terrifying way. The song is so loud that it’s rattling my bones and you look like uncooked chicken.”

“Yeah. This was Thors idea.” Peter laughed in embarrassment and looked down at his shiny body.

“Well it’s not the worst sight in the world.” You shrugged and ran your fingertips down his chest. Peter gulped and looked at you, feeling that electricity return.

“FRIDAY, stop playing the song.” You called out without ever taking your eyes off Peter. He got the hint and shot a web at the door to shut it before going to blow out the candles.

“Wait.” You held out your hand, stopping Peter.

“Leave the candles.” You told him.

“Okay. But why?”

“Well, it’s our first time, isn’t it?” You smiled coyly. “It should be special.”

Peter liked where your head was at but couldn’t go through with it without telling you the whole truth.

“They’re M&M scented candles that I stole from Morgans playroom.” He admitted. You stared at him for a long time before nodding your head.

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop talking before I change my mind, okay?”

“Okay.” He nodded excitedly and pulled you into a kiss. You kissed him back and felt the same electricity that was coursing through his veins. Peter laid you down on his bed without breaking the kiss and you felt the red silk sheets he had put on under your skin.

“These sheets are a nice touch.” You flirted in between kisses.

“Only the best for you, baby. I took them from your dad.”

With the mention of your father, you immediately pushed Peter off and felt your entire body cringe. He had once again successfully ruined the moment.

“That’s it. I’m done.” You held uo your hands in defeat and left his room.

“Wait!” Peter called after you. “I cleaned them! I swear!”

Tag List 🏷️

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor @tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow

@unbelievableholland @flixndchill @sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave​ ​ @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild

@canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah

@seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @horanxholland

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey

[thebat-musicman]

The Playlist™

My 12 hour Batfam playlist (with repeating songs!)

The repeating version has 200 songs and is 12 hours. Non repeating has 167 songs and is 9 hours and 54 minutes.

I am so sorry to whatever poor souls are reading this just trying to find good songs for their faves

@batfambrainrotbeloved it’s done

The bat-playlist from hell is under the cut

Alfred

Be our guest

Let it be

Sweet caroline

You are my sunshine

God is really real

Istanbul (not Constantinople)

50 ways to say goodbye (him faking Bruce’s death when he went training)

What was I made for

No time to die

James Bond theme

I got you

Child of Mine

Little Lion man

You’ll be in my heart

Never grow up

Edelweiss

Baby mine

Friend like me

My heart will go on

Bruce

Never grow up

Everything has changed

I hate it here

I look in people’s windows

imgonnagetyouback

Karma (AJR)

Humpty Dumpty

Inertia

Two birds

Cat’s in the cradle

Song for Orphans

Tears in heaven

Heart of stone

Robin

Whatever it takes

ocean eyes

Migraine

I’ll make a man out of you

Under the Sea

Beautiful Boy (darling boy)

Babs

The story of us

Just a girl

Clara Bow

Role Models

Break my face

The DJ is crying for help

Little miss perfect

She used to be mine

Mastermind

Pretty distraction

So high school

How did it end

Fight song

You should see me in a crown

The man

Runs the world (girls)

I bet you think about me

Inertia

Ours

Part of your world

Dick

I can do it with a broken heart

Touchy feely fool

Never grow up

The Bolter

Surface Pressure

You’re on your own, kid

Because of you

Karma (AJR)

Way less sad

Perfect (simple plan)

Father of mine

This is me trying

Count on me

The Greatest Show

No way

Mr. Perfectly fine

Dancing Queen

Show and Tell

How far I’ll go

Used to be young

Cass

Who’s afraid of little old me

Cassandra

The Albatross

Father of mine

You’re on your own, kid

Heart of stone

Fight song

Everybody wants to rule the world

She used to be mine

Family Line

Because of you

Roar

You should see me in a crown

I won’t

When will my life begin

The prophecy

I hate it here

Speechless

I’ve got a dream

Blackbird

Jason

The Prophecy

Mr. Perfectly fine

Better than Revenge

I did something bad

My tears ricochet

Vigilante shit

You’re gonna go far, kid

Time of dying

Deja vu

good 4 u

Because of you

Father of mine

These boots were made for walking

Fuck you

One way or another

Bang! Pow! Boom!

Be prepared

One jump ahead

Vampire

I think I’m gonna like it here (baby jason needs a song)

Steph

Record Player

Turning out Pt. II

The Dumb Song

Just a girl

Cardigan

The Man

But daddy I love him

the manuscript

Guilty as Sin?

Father of mine

Dead!

Teenagers

You’re on your own, kid

Mr. Perfectly Fine

High school sweethearts

Drama Club

My Play

Devil Town

This is love (air traffic controller)

I won’t say (I’m in love)

Tim

Ur gonna wish u believed me

Yes I’m a mess

Karma (AJR)

Mastermind

Don’t blame me

Fool

Wow, I’m not crazy

Humpty Dumpty

Good 4 u

Pretender (Acoustic)

Mister Cellophane

Come hang out

Let the games begin

Heart of stone

brutal

Deja vu

Every breath you take

The sound of silence

Go the distance

Viva La Vida

Duke

Here comes the sun

Walking on sunshine

I see the light

How do I say goodbye

The Prophecy

Turning out

Sunshine lollipops and rainbows

Teenagers

Our song

Demons

I’m still standing

Waiting on a miracle

I’m not famous

Paper rings

We didn’t start the fire

Everybody dies

What was I made for

I’ll follow the sun

Sunflower

Into the Unknown

Damian

Insane

Oh no!

Surface Pressure

Control

The good part

Role models

Mother knows best

Bad guy

What else can I do

Devil Town

Bones

Rät

Maniac

Losing my religion

(Don’t fear) The Reaper

Heathens

Pumped up kicks

Go the distance

A whole new world

I just can’t wait to be king

[kurara-black-blog]

Darling Obsessed (Yandere Wally x Reader)

This particular Yandere Wally is by @qep0ermint because I love the art and I want to mess with Yanlly so badly—

Anyway, uh, warnings: yandere Wally and Reader, obsessive behavior, sadistic tendencies from Reader, Yanlly has no idea Reader knows of his feelings and reciprocates, suggestive themes, body horror, bit gory descriptions, romantic idealization of cannibalism? (Listen, Reader is also not all right up there, ok? Gimme a break, this is how I write most my yanderes)

———–––———---

"You're always so sweet, Darling~"

"H-hah... Thank you...!"

And there he goes, all red faced, all tight muscles and tense shoulders. He's like a string stretched to the max, stretched so good you know it'll ricochet beautifully once you snap it. And that's exactly what you want to do with the gentleman standing in front of you, looking like he's not sure if he wants to step away to regain his breathing or stay nearby and bask in your presence.

You take the choice from him—more like he gave the choice to you the moment your eyes met and his took the shape of hearts—and step closer. Close enough to feel a body's warmth but not close enough to touch—the sweetest torture for a man of manners who swore to only ever start physical contact with clear permission. Feeling extra mischievous, you allow your breath to come out of your mouth, a directed gust of wind to his exposed collar.

Oh, isn't the way he trembles just the most darling thing?

Makes you want to bite him.

"No, really, how can I ever thank you for your thoughtfulness?" You ask sweetly, bringing a hand up to tidy up his tattered scarf, a pleasant shiver going down your spine at the way his breath hitches.

"N... No need..." He mutters, breathless just as you when he thinks you can't see his crazed grin.

If only he knew the things he does to you. How you want to run a finger up and down his chest just to watch him squirm and tremble. How you want to bite his neck and arms until he has no choice but to walk around with scars of your teeth. How you want to tease him until his legs give and tears run down his pretty face. How you want to burn your name on his back and brand him as yours. How you want to bite off one of his fingers to always have a piece of him with you. How you want to force your blood down his throat so he can only ever remember the taste of you. How you want to open his ribcage and crawl inside and use his chest as your forever bed—

"Oh, hi Neighbor! And Cousin!" Julie's voice snaps you out of your thoughts and oh

Oh.

Wally is clearly not breathing, probably hasn't been for a good minute or so, how could he? How could he when you have been pulling on his scarf until he has no choice but bend until your heads are a few inches apart?

This darling man simply can't deny you anything, after all. He'd die a blissful death by your hands if you allowed. You would never, of course, you want him alive and breathing and trembling and drooling and screaming your claim so loud the universe echoes it back. But the mere knowledge he'd happily allow you to take— he'd happily give you his life is exhilarating. As things often are with him.

Letting go of his scarf—not without a last tug to hear the low whine he tries to muffle at the back of his throat—, you turn around and give Julie a big smile and a bigger hug. You love your neighbors, after all! You'd kill for them given the chance.

"Julie! Are you back from your adventure for inspiration?"

"Yep, yep! I've got so many new ideas!" Julie giggles, squeezing you on her enthusiasm. "I was looking for you to share my ideas, but if you're busy, we can do it later!"

"Well..." You turn your head to look at your darling gentleman, but there is no one standing there. Poor thing must've ran away to calm his heart. "It seems I'm free."

"Wow, Cousin just went poof! I don't know how he does it!" Julie finally let's go of you only to grab your hands. "Well, we can invite him when we see him again! Y'know, I think he has a big crush on you," she whispers in a volume only Julie Joyful would call a whisper.

"Really?" You ask, amused, allowing the girl to pull you by the hand. "Darling has a crush on me?"

"Mhm~ He gets all red in the face when you're near, it's cute!" Oh, if only she knew. "You two would be cute together! Though, why do you call him by his surname?"

"Oh, you know... He's just such a darling~"

[folkwhore1998]

All I do is try try try

I will literally never forget the first time I listened to folklore. I went for a walk around the pond outside in my neighborhood and it was cold as hell. It was such a vibe you guys. I would do anything to be able to listen to this album again. Take me to the ponds where all the poets went to die.

It is so different than anything else Taylor Swift has ever done honestly. I feel it is the lyricism of Last Kiss and All Too Well but they were introduced to depression and anxiety. Am I wrong? It is hard for me to say it is an album that divided our fandom because it brought in so many fans, but i also feel there are a lot of fans who prefer other albums over folklore.

I can totally see why and how folklore brought in so many new fans. #1 It is a completely new sound from Taylor (which is how I can maybe see why some people were divided) #2 We were all depressed during COVID and this album was a really good friend to so many people during this time. #3 It took people by surprise because there was no promo for the album. She just said "Here!" I think that there was a lot of curiosity that came with the release which brought in new listeners.

There are two songs on this album I will ride at dawn for: hoax and peace

YOU KNEW THE PASSWORD SO I LET YOU IN THE DOOR. YOU KNEW YOU WON SO WHATS THE POINT OF KEEPING SCORE? I'll admit, I was not always a hoax truther. It just didn't click. But one day I had the album on shuffle and there was a switch that was flipped in my brain and wow it is just so good. Like hello? DID YOU HEAR WHAT SHE SAID?

Peace is such a vulnerable song and we don't talk about that enough. It is like asking am I going to be good enough? but so much more than that. Taylor is a well loved celebrity and it isn't something she cannot change about herself. It is a major part who she is. "Will you accept the intrusive parts of myself and my life that I will never ever be able to change? I would literally die for you and I love your family as my own and I would do anything for you, but is my love enough? I'd also like to talk about epiphany. I personally don't relate to it a lot and I don't listen to it a lot, but I recently saw a video of someone saying "it's the worst song she's ever written" which absolutely infuriated me. Did I rank it last? Yes. I rank everything on how I personally connect with the song, not in terms of "I think this is a bad song." Just because I don't connect, does not mean it is a bad song. It is actually an incredibly deep song that I think resonates with a lot of medical professionals as well as people who lost loved ones during COVID. It talks about a loss so unfathomable or event so traumatic that you literally can't speak about it. And for someone to say it's the worst song she's ever written is honestly senseless and offensive and infuriating. (Respectfully)

☆ Fun fact: Whenever I am showing folklore to someone for the first time, I always play the LPSS version. The vocals are so raw and I feel like you can really feel the lyrics differently, and you can really hear what she just- which I find to be extremely important with this album.

Here are my rankings of

folklore:

illicit affairs

the 1

my tears ricochet

this is me trying

august

peace

betty

hoax

cardigan

mirrorball

the lakes

mad woman

seven

exile (the live version is a different story...one of her best performances)

invisible string

the last great american dynasty

epiphany

Folklore era favs:

lol

MAGICAL

actually sobbing. everything about this. they're all so appreciative and proud. sidenote: one of her best looks ever. dare I say it's my favorite?

no notes.

if you know, you know.

Yes.. I know we need to get through Fall, but it's never too soon to start planning. Taylor said so!

☆ Here is the direct link to the folklore cardigan Christmas ornaments pictured above:

☆ Here is the direct link to the folklore stocking pictured above:

@taylornation @taylorswift

[im-some-lionheart]

Songs Taylor Alison Swift wrote for my best friend Dean Winchester, specifically (in no particular order) :

Dear John (!!!!!!!! deancoded song of all time)

this is me trying

my tears ricochet (is it about him and John? him and Cas? him and Sam? him and himself? yes.)

Dress (duh)

Out of the Woods (purgatory arc hellooo)

False God (I mean...)

Treacherous

marjorie (yes, this is about Mary Winchester)

The Archer

This Love

End Game (your hand print's on my soul!!!!)

All You Had to do Was Stay (which, may I add, he blasts whenever he's alone with Cas in the car and he scream-sings the chorus while that stupid oblivious angel just thinks "wow he really likes this song")

willow

Glitch (we were supposed to be just friends.. I thought we had no chance 😭)

I Think He Knows (indigo eyes!! hand on my thigh, we could follow the sparks, I'll drive !!! I ain't gotta tell him, I think he knows!!!!)

tolerate it (yes, this is a John song)

cowboy like me

evermore (widower arc anthem)

The Great War

Anti-Hero

Haunted (for whenever Cas dies, actually)

I Can See You

I Wish You Would

[clatoera]

Picket Fence is Sharp as Knives Chapter 11: When You Can't Sleep at Night, You'll Hear My Stolen Lullaby

Heeeey besties. It has been more than a minute. I work eighty hours a week. Please take pity on me. If you are still here, still reading, wow I love you and I thank you deeply.

This chapter doesn't have a strong plot, it is just about my favorite things. Mamas and their babies.

A huge shoutout to @districtonekisses who has had conversations about explicitly stuff in this fic with me again and again, I love you and owe you cashbaria content soon I promise.

As always @kentwells my beloved, has been keeping my clato thoughts FED in my DMs to keep me moving through this shitty work schedule I have.

@bodyelectric77 you just have to get tagged at this point im so sorry.

Anyway!

Title from T-swift My tears ricochet

masterpost

AO3

He does not fit in the space from her knees to her hips anymore. His body can no longer fit comfortably resting on the short length of her thighs, where she could prop up her knees and take the time to memorize the details of her son in the middle of the night. Really, he never fit there to begin with. His legs would be scrunched up, and if he extended them he gave her an impressively strong kick for such a little person.  

Now, though, months and months into his life, Clove could not even pretend that he still fit in her lap.

Her arms, though, oh her arms were another story entirely. 

It was all part of her carefully crafted nightly facade, one she had been orchestrating for the last six months, for the entire duration of her time as a mother. 

It went the same way every night. Cato would hand her the baby in his little hooded bath towel, all wet eyelashes and big blue eyes staring at her as his little baby hands just reached for her almost as quickly as she’d reach back for him. She’d absolutely insist she was just going to get him to sleep, then she’d be back to bed. Yet, every single night she’d end up padding across the short distance from his room to their own with him firmly asleep in her arms. She always insists that it is just simpler if he is with them, because really, where in the whole world could he be safer than between the people who brought him into it.  Cato always knew his part too, when he’d wordlessly just take the baby back from her so she could get into bed. That is exactly where his son would sleep, right there on his chest and in his arms, until hours into the night when the first slight noise he made had Clove pulling him over into her arms. They’d wordlessly, barely even consciously, pass him back and forth throughout the entire duration of the night. Neither mention it. Neither question it. It is their unspoken, unquestioned agreement. 

(Neither want to admit just how scared they are at the thought of him being anywhere but between them)

This is part two of that routine, where Clove and her son sit curled up in the corner of his bedroom, her knees tucked under her as she rocks with him in the oversized (for her, at least) recliner. She’s got him in the crook of her left arm, though her right hand comes around to brush her fingers over his still damp blonde hair on his head, her thumb coming to caress his full little cheek. They share the same fleecy blue blanket that she wraps around her own shoulders and covers her arms in, so that he too is protected from any sting of his first District Two winter that bites outside the window. 

Not that there was any real risk of feeling a winter sting; from the blanket to his mother’s arms to the little blue sleeper the color of his eyes to the well heated house that his father endures for the sake of his mother- he was never going to be cold. 

Cold he is not. Awake, however, he is. 

“You gotta go to sleep, sweetheart, come on..” Clove whispers, though there's a softness in her voice that is reserved for this little boy and this little boy alone.  “You had such a busy day, you have to be sleepy.” 

Busy is a bold descriptor, but he did have an exciting day for a six month old. The first real layer of snow had finally covered the District last night, an uncharacteristically late start in February. Cato had been nothing short of insistent that he got to take the baby out today. Even Clove, who watched from the warmth of the kitchen window, couldn’t look away from the identical smiles of her boys and the sweet baby giggles coming from her son. There was something about the way Cato dipped this baby down into the ground to toe at the snow, and the way he pulled his little feet up in delighted response, that made Clove almost want to brave the cold for them, too. 

Still, the day of discovery did not seem to make a dent in the energy level of Atlas Hadley, who was contently playing with the thin strap of Clove’s shirt, an entire little fist wrapped around the fabric. She shifts, just a little, so that he is less facing into her and more looking up at the rest of the room. She catches one of his hands, and brings it up to her lips to kiss his closed fist, which earns her the biggest, widest smile from the blond boy in her arms. 

And God, when he looks at her with the biggest, widest blue eyes in the world, as if she herself hung the stars in the sky? The only thing she can wonder is how the fuck she deserves him. 

She finds herself humming to him often, and now is no exception. She never full on sings, and she never will, but there's something just..instinctual about how simply it falls from her. She isn’t even sure where she learned it. Normally it works, too. A few minutes of humming and rocking in this chair and he was out, usually with his little cheek pressed flush against her skin. 

It’s always the same song, too, oddly enough. It just flows. She isn’t even sure where she heard it or picked it up from– probably Glimmer– but it does the job. 

Most nights, at least. 

Now, though, she’s still got those sky colored eyes just absolutely staring up at her, like something is so captivating he can’t bear to close his eyes and miss a moment.

“Whatcha looking at? Do you see the snow?” Clove twists her neck to look backwards, trying to glance over her shoulder out the window to see what could possibly be so enticing to her baby. It’s just a dark sky, not even moonlight within frame to have him so entranced.

 When she’s glancing out, beyond what her baby could see, she can see the thick blanket of snow draped over the trees and landscape. It’s involuntary, the chill that goes through her, when she sees the eerie stillness of snow in the darkness. 

She doesn’t mean to stretch out her fingers, rolling them out as if she is trying to keep them mobile and warm. She can’t help but do her best to wrap her little hands around her son, somehow managing to pull him closer as if she herself will be the final defense between him and an icy, frozen arena. 

It’s been what? Five..Six..Seven years since her games? Nearly a decade and that biting cold feeling just cannot leave her. 

“There’s no snow falling, what do you see, my love?” Clove tries again, this time shifting him in her arms so that his head is resting on her chest rather than her arms, hoping to distract him from whatever was keeping him so alert. 

Still, Atlas twists his little face so that he can still see hers, blinking up at her with the same lovey expression as before. She makes a confused face at him, eyebrows pinching together,  but just wraps her arms tighter, holding them both deeper in the warm embrace of their blanket. 

“I can’t blame him, all he wants to see is you.” Cato points out from where he now rests in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over the expanse of his bare chest. “I wouldn’t want to go to sleep either, if my other option was looking at you.” 

“And what are you staring at now, Cato?” Clove teases, letting one hand come to the back of her son’s head and strum rhythmic little circles over his hair. “You know you’re going to distract him..”

“Don’t mind me, I’m just admiring my work is all.” Cato grins, raking his eyes over Clove in the corner of the room, so effortlessly curled up around their only child. 

Clove, who was once a feral little girl with knives hidden in her socks, now just so delightfully different while maintaining everything that made him love her. 

“...your work? You’re admiring your work?” Clove raises a dark eyebrow, though her expression twists into something toeing the line between annoyance and adoration, an expression Cato knows all too well. 

“Hell yeah this is my work.” Cato gestures to the two of them with one hand and the most smug smile on his pretty face. “I did  make all of this happen so…my work.”

“You’re the worst sometimes,” Clove rolls her eyes, but doesn’t stop the rhythmic rocking of her son in her arms. “It’s our work, thank you very much.”

“Some of our best, honestly.” He agrees, but uses the arm that was reaching out to them to gesture back towards himself. “C’mere. I’m lonely across the hall.”

“He isn’t asleep yet..” She sighs, shaking her head lightly. “He’s got a staring problem like his dad.”

“Can’t blame the kid.” He holds out his other arm as he crosses the distance between them. “Hold on to him.”

“What are you-”

He slips one arm under her legs and the other behind her shoulders, “Just hold him. We’re going to bed.” Cato instructs, before he’s got her scooped up in his arms as if she weighed no more than a baby herself. 

“Cato! Be careful!” She shrieked, but curled into his chest as she had done thousands and thousands of times in her life. 

“You act like I’ve ever dropped you.”

_____________________________________________________________

“No mama, no sleepy.” Stella Sanford shakes her little head, blonde ringlet curls brushing over her pajama clad shoulders with every move. Regardless of her pouting, and boy does she know how to tilt her little lips into a pout, she flops into her usual bedtime position with her head on her mother’s right arm. 

“Yes, Stella, you have to go to sleep. You can’t wake up for your birthday if you don’t go to sleep first.” Glimmer tries softly, bringing her arm up to wrap around Stella, twisting her fingers through the ends of her soft baby blonde hair. She’d remain here until Marvel came upstairs, when she’d effortlessly roll right into his arms for the rest of the night. A baby for each of them to hold– well, toddlers now. “And Sissy’s already sleeping, she’s going to get to have her birthday too…”

“No sleepy,” Comes from the muffled voice of Aurelia on her chest, who doesn’t even lift her head to see her mother or her twin sister, instead keeping her face buried in her favorite pink blanket the three of them fell asleep under every night. “Sing song, mama?”

“You already got your sing song, baby.”  She soothes, brushing her hand over the back of her baby soft pajamas, the tips of her fingers tracing the tiniest little shapes on the top of her back. “And your story, and another book, and your kisses..”

“P-eeease, mama?” Stella flutters her long eyelashes at her mother, resting her chin right on her chest next to her twin. “one sing song.”

“One sing song.” Aurelia chimes in, one of her little hands escaping her blankets and coming up to touch her mother’s face gently. “Pease?”

Glimmer audibly sighs, grabbing Aurelia’s little hand and kissing her open palm, using her other hand to pull Stella closer. They’re just her babies, babies who were two years old as of early tomorrow morning, how could she tell them no? 

Especially now, when the days of them holding onto her and sleeping in her arms are slipping away so quickly? 

“What sing song do you want? You can’t have the birthday one until tomorrow-”

“No words sing song.” Aurelia explains, twisting a hundred and eighty degrees in her mother’s arms so that she can face her sister now too. 

“...no words…baby, that's not a song?” Glimmer tries, taking the opportunity  to spread their pink blanket out over the three of them, now equally covering both Stella and Aurelia where they would sleep until Marvel was done with birthday set up. 

“No words sing song!” Stella agrees with an enthusiastic nod, her little nose scrunching up with her smile in an expression she most definitely did not inherit from her mother. “Like this!” 

Glimmer watches with a bemused smile as Stella tries to demonstrate her request, with little furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips. It’s adorable, almost to the point that Glimmer forgets her girl is trying to show her something. 

“...oh you want me to hum you a song? That’s not singing, silly girlies.” 

“Hum song.” Stella outright demands this time, resting her little hands on her chin expectantly. “Do the hum song, mama.”

“...the hum song?” Glimmer mumbles, trying to rack through her brain for whatever specific song they mean. There’s the one that comes to mind, though she isn’t sure why or where she learned it. Then again, there aren’t words, it’s only a hummable song. 

“Okay. I’ll do the hum  song, but you gotta cloooose your eyes.” Glimmer instructs, moving her arms intentionally so that they are both individually cradled in an arm, although they are far bigger than the infant babies she brought home in this position two years ago.

 “Goodnight Aurelia-” She starts, leaning down to kiss the top of her far more reserved child’s head, her lips lingering for just a moment as she soaks in the time she gets to share alone with them. “Goodnight Stella..I love you both so so much.” 

“Nigh-nigh mama, loves you” Stella announces contentedly, curling up into her mother’s side dutifully, before peaking one green eye up and over at her sister. “Nigh-nigh sissy.”

“Night-night sissy.” Aurelia declares, wiggling her little pink nails (an early birthday fun day gift from Auntie Cashy) out for Stella’s matching ones (and match Cashmere and Glimmer’s, too of course). “Love mama.”

As she hums to her girls, Glimmer watches closely. She notices how Stella’s hand reaches up to hold on to Aurelia’s, and her heart catches in her throat. She can’t help but remember the very first time she held the two of them together, how her girls who never knew anything but each other, reached only for each other within the first moments of their lives. She was not a twin herself, but there was something otherworldly about the bond between her children, beyond anything she’d ever get to know. Even now, almost two years to the day since they were born, they still fall asleep every night holding each other’s little hands. As it was right now, it was almost always intentional. Just two halves of the same soul, always reaching for the piece that completes them.

Glimmer never takes advantage of how lucky she is to have the children that she does, what a miracle it is that she gets to be their mother. 

She never forgets just how deeply loved her daughters are, by so many people beyond herself, either. 

Now, for example. Her sister and brother were adamantly downstairs helping her husband decorate for the girl’s second birthday, with no fewer than 730 pastel balloons to blow up and intentionally place around the first floor. It is arguably the least sexy, most unromantic way for her sister to spend the eve of Valentine's day, something Cashmere most definitely would point out to her later. Fortunately the seven pm bedtime of the twins meant they would be finished decorating before Cashmere was even due to start her skincare. 

The point being, Cashmere and Gloss didn’t have to be here. These twins are not their children, they have no responsibility to them, and yet here they are. 

Not to forget that Marvel, the sweet sweet man that he is, would most certainly come up with a gift for her. Claiming that, yes it was the girls’ birthday, but it was her who physically birthed them into the world and that she deserved as much recognition as they did. 

There's something remarkable about him as a husband and as a father that almost, just almost, makes her think about risking a boy for just one more child to watch him raise. While she likes to think that she was born to be a mother, it cannot be denied that he wanted those girls just as badly as she did. 

She can physically feel Aurelia fall asleep on top of her, when any tension in her little body just releases at once and she fully gives into the embrace of her mother. Stella never takes long after Aurelia, though it is far more subtle to hear her breathing pattern even out so distinctly.

Two entire years of this being her life, two years of big green eyes staring at her, two years of “mama” in high pitched little voices, two years of little humans who trusted her for everything they could ever need. 

She isn’t sure she’ll ever get used to this being her real life, as if she will ever accept it as anything more than the dream it feels like. 

It’s unbelievable to her, that this is the life she gets to live.That somehow, after everything, she has been granted this chance. It feels beyond a dream to have one daughter who prefers strawberry jelly over grape, or another daughter who cries if her bubbles in her bathtub pop. What a privilege it is to sort little socks embroidered with A’s and S’s, to have two of every set of pajamas and every tutu. 

It’s nothing short of a dream, nothing short of a miracle, that Glimmer even survived long enough to be a mother at all. 

Marvel moves so quietly that she doesn’t even hear him come into the room, and is only alerted to his presence by the shift of the other side of the bed when he sits on their shared bed.

She pauses her mindless humming, glancing up over at him with a soft smile on her face. She notices something speckled on the thin fabric of his white shirt, but pays very little attention to it as he so carefully slides into bed beside her with a well practiced agility that only comes from long dedication to not waking the girls with a shift in the mattress. 

“Don’t stop on my account.” He defends, leaning over oh so carefully to kiss her on the cheek without disturbing the freshly sleeping toddlers in her arms. “Balloons, streamers, and the special birthday plates are set up. Your sister did tell me I’m ruining her valentines day because I said she couldn’t come wake them up to give them their first present. She’ll get over it.”

Glimmer gives him the softest smile as his hands thread under Stella, expertly pulling her to his side of the bed where she would sleep incredibly soundly for the rest of the night . As if to illustrate her thoughts, her baby curled right up against her father, burying her face in the fabric of his shirt. She’s paying such close attention there to his side, that it dawns on her exactly what the speckles on his shirt are. 

She reaches out to grab the white fabric, and the deep maroon blossoming along his side confirms exactly what she suspected. “Are you….bleeding?!” 

“Oh! Yeah! It’s nothing! Just your brother and the staple gun! No harm done!” Marvel brushes off, grabbing the free edge of the pink blanket and dragging it over him too. He offers her a comforting smile, grabbing at her hand. “Hey. Glim. I’m fine. Seriously. Your brother started thinking a bit too much about why we were decorating and how the girls came to be, and you know how he gets! He’s just..protective of you. He’ll get over it one day. Or he won’t, and he’ll try to kill me one day a year every year for the next twenty. Either way, I can take it. And probably deserve it a little.”

“He does not get to hurt you,” Glimmer warns, shaking her head in firm but loving disapproval. “I’m a big girl, and I made my decision. And I would make that choice over and over and over again. And I will remind him of that tomorrow.” She shifts closer, as far as she can without the risk of waking Aurelia in her arms. “They don’t get to act like they’re number one aunt and uncle and then act like that towards you. It’s infuriating” She mumbles, taking the chance to move just a few inches closer, unable to fully close the gap between them. “You don’t deserve that.”

“It’s okay, Glimmer, I can take it. They don’t mean anything by it. Besides…maybe they’re just jealous.”  He does his part to shift closer  too, leaving just enough space between them for the girls to move to. “‘Cause I got two of these,” he gestures to the sleeping twins, pulling Stella up to sleep on his chest, mirroring Aurelia on her mother’s. “And they don’t have any. And I get a you, Glimmer. They can say whatever they want, because really, I won.”

“Yeah, well, my sister doesn’t pay attention to anything but her own reflection, and my brother is her lapdog. I wouldn’t want to be them, either.” 

“Especially not Cashmere, she’s got Enobaria with those teeth-” Marvel jokes, earning him a little nudge from Glimmer. 

“God don’t bring that up, there are some things I don’t need to picture–”

“Hey, that’s just mentally picturing. I have actual proof of the things I've done with their sister.” He teases, pointing between the sleeping blondes in their arms. “We don’t need them to like it. We just need them to help blow up balloons once a year. They like the girls, that’s what matters.”

Glimmer feels like her heart physically hurts in the center of her chest, when she looks up and sees the way he just looks at her with such love and dedication in those blue eyes. Blue eyes she wishes were reflected in one of her daughters, sometimes, if for no other reason than how much she selfishly loves them. “....I love you.”

“I love me, too.” Marvel teases, before catching her face in his hand. “I love you, more than anything. And I’m really glad we accidentally pulled off this two for one special thing, because we have really, really cool kids.” 

And for all the anxiety, the uncertainty, the discomfort, the stress, and the downright fear that came with the time leading up to the birth of her children… she wouldn’t have it any other way. After it all.. she’d go through every single moment all over again if she meant she held her daughters at the end of it. “...they’re the best.” 

“You’re the best.” He promises, finally just slipping his arm around her hips and pulling her closer, damned with keeping space for now. He pauses, and shakes his head for a moment as if he just remembered something. “That song you were humming when I came in..they ask for the no words sing song alllll the time…where the hell did that even come from?”

“Absolutely no idea.”

_______________________________________________

“Good morning.”  Glimmer’s raspy, sleep-addled voice in the doorway would have jolted Clove awake had it not been for the fact she had already been wide awake the majority of the night and into the early morning. She stands in the doorway with hair in two frizzy braids that are passively untwisting and oversized sweatshirt with sleeves that cover her hands, and the way she is rubbing at her eyes with said sleeves make her look nothing short of an oversized toddler coming to her mother for comfort in the middle of the night. 

Except Glimmer is a twenty five year old woman and Clove is not her mother. 

“Can I get in bed?” Glimmer murmurs, though it is nothing more than a formality as she is already pulling up the comforter on the opposite end of the bed from Clove and sliding one leg in. “Ew, this is Cato’s side, I don’t want to lay in these sheets, I know what goes on here-” She scrunches up her nose, but plops her head down on his pillow anyway.

“The sheets are clean-ish. Nothing is going down in this bed for a long fucking time. Fuck, what time is it–” She twists her head to look over at Glimmer, who is making herself plenty comfortable in Clove’s bed. Clove on the other hand is half sitting, half leaning, with her neck just slightly propped up by the pillows. Most importantly is her baby, all of five (six, now) days old, scrunched up on her chest, but incredibly safe and protected in the arms of his mother. She ceases her humming, some old song she can’t seem to get out of her head, before stifling her own yawn into her son’s hair. “What are you doing here? Did Cato send you to come babysit me?”

“It’s five forty two in the morning. Five forty five is the morning workout start time for you district two psychopaths apparently. Enobaria and Brutus are downstairs with Cato, they’re going down to the basement.” Glimmer stifles a yawn with the edge of the blanket, rolling onto her right side so that she is facing Clove, though her eyes are barely even half open to support her argument that she’s awake. “Huh? No it wasn’t Cato. I’m not even babysitting you per say–just keeping you company while everyone else works out- okay, Enobaria came into my room and pulled me out of bed by my ankle and said I had to come sit with you. Not that I mind!”

“Do they think i’m a fucking baby and can’t watch myself?” Clove snaps, wiggling so that she too is laying flat on her back next to Glimmer. It had been six days– how the hell was she going to do this for eighteen years- and the lack of sleep had gotten to her. It’s not a foreign sensation, they had deprived them of sleep plenty of times during games training and even at the hands of Snow in the capitol…but back then the only person she had to keep alive was herself. Not a whole new needy, helpless human being. “What do they think I'm going to do? Throw him at a target to strengthen my arm?”

“I think they’re more worried about you trying to workout six days after you had a baby come out of you. “ Glimmer explains, stifling yet another yawn into her borrowed pillow. “Not that i’m saying you would-”

“Fuck, Glim, I’m not working out. I can barely walk, it feels like he literally ripped me in half and he might have! I don’t know! I don’t care to find out! I’m pretty sure I'm literally stitched back together!” Clove shakes her head quickly, blinking back the wet feeling in her eyes she doesn’t know whether to attribute to exhaustion or hormonal instability. “...Glimmer everything hurts. It hurts and I can’t do anything and all I do is lay in this bed with this baby and try to pretend that everything is fine but Glimmer it hurts.” 

Glimmer takes the moment to prop herself up on her elbow, recognizing the need to feel more present for her friend. “...of course it hurts, Clove. He’s huge. You are not. It hurts even when they’re little.”

“Yeah, well you had two at the same time, of course that hurt,” Clove insists, but uses the chance to pull her son up closer to her face, where she can continue to place kisses on his head and try to keep him asleep. “It hurts and I can’t tell Cato that because he’ll absolutely freak out or think i’m dramatic or something and I just don’t need that right now-”

“Clove..do you think he doesn’t know? Like he’s dumb but he isn’t that dumb.” Glimmer tries, giving just the slightest eye roll. “He’s constantly worried about you. He texted Marvel seventeen –and I counted– times the day you had the baby telling him he was afraid you were going to die, Clove. He’s stupid but he absolutely can read you like a book.”

“Yeah, well I thought I was dying too, Glimmer!”  She bites back, tension and something else crawling into her tone. “I’ve been in multiple near death experiences, and you know what, it was the only time I had ever actually been scared of it!” 

“But you didn’t! And he’s here and he’s okay and you are okay. You deserve to take care of yourself, too, Clove. I know he’s important and all, but so are you…”

“I am taking care of myself, clearly I'm laying up here in bed all useless while everyone else gets to go actually do something for themselves. And God, Glimmer, this baby wakes up all night and he’s already asleep on me so I just take care of him and I love him and I wouldn’t change a thing but I look at Cato who looks so fucking peaceful and well rested and I want to kill him.” Clove’s breathing and speaking speeds up as she rambles, borderline pushing herself to a meltdown. “I love him. He offers to get up with me, and he does, but he’s just…useless to this baby right now. So he sits up and stares at me as his version of moral support. But it isn’t helping!”

“Oh! Absolutely! I remember one time I woke up in the middle of the night, and I was so tired, and I looked down and I had Stella in one arm and Aurelia in the other and I looked over and Marvel was just..out. And all I wanted was to just slit his throat. After that I started making him wake up all night, too. Which…they’re pretty useless but it makes you feel less alone. You’re the only person in the world who can take care of that baby, Clove, and it’s lonely and it’s hard but when he’s like a year old and all he wants is you, it’s the best feeling in the world”  Glimmer sits up just a little, holding both her hands out and making a gesture towards herself. “Give me the baby.”

“What? No, he’s fine–” Clove shakes her head rapidly, both her hands wrapping around his little back, holding him somehow closer to herself. 

“Clove. You’re exhausted. More than I’ve ever seen you, and that's saying something, considering we literally went through Hunger Games together. You came back from literal capital torture looking less tired. Give me the baby.”  She once again waves both hands towards herself. “Do you trust me?”

“Well yeah of course I trust you, it’s just not your job to take him.” Clove insists, shaking her head firmly, but glances sideways down at her baby. “It’s my responsibility to take care of him.”

“Clove. Give me the baby. I swear I won’t leave this bed. Give me this baby and take a nap.” Glimmer all but demands, shuffling her body to sit up a little more properly. She shoves her hands closer to the baby, patiently waiting in that position. “Let me help you. It’s what I'm here for.”

“You’re here so I don’t go try to do a sit up.” Clove hesitates, but finally acquiesced and slides her fingers under her son’s chest, lifting her son so that she can look at his sleepy face before gently hovering him closer to Glimmer. 

“You don’t have the core strength for a sit up right now, who are you kidding.” Glimmer flashes the baby a bright smile, all but abandoning her exhaustion as she pulls him into her arms. “Hey little buddy!” She coos at him, holding his head in one hand and his body with the length of her opposite arm. “You’re still such a cutie, even though you look like your dad!” 

Clove somehow looks both visibly more tense as she rolls on her side to face Glimmer, and also more relaxed at the same time. “He’s got a cute dad, of course he’s cute.” 

“Isn’t it annoying that you did all the work and he looks like him though?” She points out, gently shushing the baby as she bounces him just slightly in her arms. “I wouldn’t know what that’s like, obviously.”

“I wouldn't want him any other way.” She half mumbles, reaching her top hand up to hold on to his little body, despite the fact Glimmer is plenty capable of taking care of him. She sees the skeptical look from Glimmer, and gives her a tired half-scowl. “Leave me alone, I’ve been touching him in some way for like..ten months.”

“You’re just so maternal it’s cute.”  Glimmer grins, wiggling down so that she is laying more parallel to Clove. “He’s safe, Clove. I’ll wake you if he needs you. I promise.” 

Clove rolls her eyes to make a point, but her eyes do not bother re-opening for Glimmer to notice. 

Glimmer of course notices, particularly when Clove’s hand goes fully limp on top of the baby. She laughs to herself, never out loud in fear of waking Clove who barely wants to sleep as is, as Clove slips in and out of deep sleep, occasionally humming something over and over even while unconscious. 

“You’ve got a good mama, Atlas. Be good for her, okay?” Glimmer whispers to the tiny blond boy– okay, not tiny in compared to the actual tiny babies she herself made. “Your dad though, you can scream at him all you want.”

This is how Cato finds them an hour later, when he comes up stairs and sees Glimmer in his bed. Clove’s practically curled up in Glimmer’s side, her hand resting on top of the baby, though otherwise she is dead to the world.  

“Go home, Blondie, you’re in my spot.” Cato demands, holding a low-slung towel on his hips, nodding his head towards the door. “And don’t get any ideas about taking my kid with you.”

“Jealous, I'm in bed with your wife?” Glimmer taunts, but gives a firm shake of her head. “You can have her back after you make me breakfast, as a ‘sorry you had to come over at 5 am’ treat.”

“You act like you mind it. You’re getting to hold a new baby without any responsibilities.” Cato runs a hand through his wet hair, before dragging it down the side of his face. He struggles to get out the words ‘thank you,’ but it’s understood when he rubs at the back of his neck and asks. “Do you want me to wake Marvel to make waffles or wake Marvel to make french toast.”

“Mmm, I was actually hoping for an egg white omelet?” Glimmer scrunches her nose in a semi pout, sticking out her bottom lip playfully. 

“Can he make that?”

“Absolutely not.” 

“Great. He’s making french toast then.”

It becomes a daily pattern for the next month and a half. 

______________________________________________________

It is literal years before anyone thinks about the song for more than a few seconds, other than long enough to remember to start singing it. 

“Did you learn that song from Cashmere?” Clove asks from her spot at the kitchen island, sitting on her barstool as she stirs a bowl of ice cream and sprinkles in her hand. It had been her favorite treat for the duration of her second– and final– pregnancy, but usually she had a blonde boy breathing down her neck for a bite. She takes the moment to enjoy her snack in peace– without her husband or toddler demanding she share with the same pouty face and wide blue eyes.

Sometimes she felt like she married a child and then went and made him an identical, miniature version of himself to be his new best friend. 

Enobaria crinkles her eyebrows, her face twisting from bemusement at the dark haired little girl in her arms, to actual irritation. “Did you lose your mind when this one came out?” She holds up the tiny baby girl, swimming in the little sleeper that her brother once barely fit in, as if for emphasis. “She’s been here for three days, you can’t blame her anymore.”

Three days which Enobaria has had to hear every night from Cashmere on the phone back in District One, are the longest three days she’s had in years. 

Enobaria couldn’t leave her brand new three day old niece any faster than Cashmere was willing to leave her ten day old one.

“What! I learned it from Glimmer I think. I dunno. It always puts Atlas to sleep, Sevina doesn’t seem to care about it yet.” Clove shrugs, glancing past Enobaria to catch a glimpse of her two year old son, being chased around the pool by his father. “I just assumed if I learned it from her, you learned it from Cash too-”

“Clove, that song is old District Two. I’m talking before the first war level old.” Enobaria explains, before her attention is brought right back down to the tiny girl in her arms. She never knew Clove at this age, but she can’t stop herself from wondering if this was exactly what it had been like to hold her. 

“How would I know it then?”

 “Because you were once a toddler who didn’t sleep and I was a desperate teenager.”

[shallowseeker]

The demon has the proverbial cat-that-ate-the-canary expression, a Joker-esque grin stretching across his face as he clicks the safety off the secondhand pistol.

"Wow, I expected better of the infamous Dean Winchester."

"Bite me."

"You walked right into that snare, buddy-boy. You ain't goin' nowhere now, not with your angel pal neutered."

The ring of holy fire is smokier than the usual, flaming up hot and wet, stinging Dean's eyes as the particles from the floor leech and leap into the air.

They'd been lured into the warehouse by, of all things, the sound of a crying child. Classic urban legend of a mistake. Embarrassing, really.

Cas is restless at Dean's back, probably two seconds from doing something stupid, like blanketing himself in front of Dean like an angel-bullet-shield.

"Hey!" the demon barks, his gun-hand shaking. (Nervous amateur. Probably a low-class demon.) "I said no sudden moves. I've got me some angel-killing bullets in my chamber here."

He could be bluffing, but god-damn if Dean's stomach doesn't drop to his toes.

"And I know what you hunters must be thinking. 'Why no sulfur at the crime scene?' or maybe even, 'Wow, that's the freshest-smelling demon I've ever met.'"

"Oh, trust me, Bel-air, we weren't thinkin' that."

Cas crowds in closer behind him, and Dean doubles down on getting the demon ruffled.

"Just so you know, wise-guy, even without your sulfur trail, your BO was enough to make me gag. But I just thought you were the typical low-life basement dweller, still suckin' on Mama's teat."

"Funny. The way I hear it, you're the one crying to Mama Winchester from the safety of your shitty Hobbit hole."

Dean shrugs. "There might be an occasional tear. What can I say? I'm tender-hearted."

Cas has slipped one arm from his coat sleeve. Dean does an exaggerated shrug on the opposite side, adding a little leg shimmy to draw the demon's attention. (David Copperfield, eat your heart out.)

"I wonder. Tender-hearted enough to save your angel pal? Tell me where Rowena MacLeod is and I'll consider letting you both walk."

"Rowena? What the Hell makes you think we're on speaking terms with her?"

The demon holds up a phone. Jack's lost phone. Rats.

"Your boy JACK plays Scrabble online with a Row-M.C.-heart-emoji, complete with her detailed, red-headed profile image. You hunters really are dumb as rocks."

Oh, for fuck's sake. Dean's gonna have to stage an online privacy intervention with everyone after this.

"You got us. We're one big happy mafia hunter fam. What's it to you?"

Cas's free hand snags on his waist, feeling for his gun holster, and Dean is seized by a fit of trepidation.

Can an angel shoot a gun from angel trap, or would it ricochet back somehow, fouled up by an invisible forcefield? There's a good chance it ricochets back, right? Otherwise, angels'd just throw their blades past the fire ring.

Might be worth the risk, though. From the looks of things, two bangs and they're both toast. Cas squeezes his waist, silently asking permission. Dean nudges back.

The gun goes off before Dean can even worry about the blowback, and the demon goes does like a sack of meat.

Dean rushes to scuff his foot over the line and whips off his jacket to further break the ring. Cas, still holding the smoking gun, rushes forward and hits the demon point-blank.

Adrenaline surging, Dean stumbles over to join him.

"Holy shit."

"I can't throw my blade because it's a part of me, but your gun penetrated the trap, no problem."

"Yeah... Dude. After this, we're arming you the Hell up with extra normal weapons. I don't care if you don't like carrying 'em. Could save your life in a bind like this."

Cas grunts, then scowls down at the mess they've left of the demon. He sweeps a hands over the gun, pensive.

"Whatsa matter? Feelin' dumb that we only just worked that out?"

"Marginally."

Dean snickers.

Cas shifts his arm back into his coat sleeve before crouching down to rummage through the demon's pockets.

"That was a nice move, slipping your coat arm like that. Your leftover sleeve looked just enough like a real arm not to tip him off."

"Thank you, Dean. Your verbal assault and distracting movements were also critical to victory."

Something about the way he says 'distracting movements' has Dean heating up on high alert. He clears his throat. "How the Hell did he evade us anyway?"

Cas rummages around some more before procuring a fancy bottle of cologne.

Dean resists the urge to depress the spray end. "Huh."

"I think we've finally figured out how the boutique perfume line fits into this case. The witch must be selling it to demons as a sort of neutralizing cloak."

"So this whole thing boils down to demonic deodorant?"

Cas nods, pulling out his cell phone to text Sam and Jack the details. "I'm not sure what they want with Rowena, but maybe they want to kidnap her and make use of her talents. She does smell nice. And potion-making skills aren't far-removed from perfumes."

Dean chokes. "What? Rowena smells nice? You've got to be kiddin' me."

"I've got a keen sense of smell."

"Yeah, yeah. I remember." It's hard to forget that Cas had once detected a bladder infection from smelling a corpse.

Dean clears his throat, "But you're saying that humans smell, what, nice to you now? Thought we'd all be more like shitty molecules or walking piles of death."

Cas confiscates the demon's phone and a few handwritten papers before training his eyes on Dean. "I didn't think that would interest you all that much."

There's something in Cas's tilted, upward-gazing expression that feels like a cross-examination, one that will determine if Dean's free to walk or doomed to death row.

"Uh. I'm just fuckin' curious, okay? Demons stink to us, so it would make sense that humans stink to angels."

Cas's answering smile is almost too subtle to catch. "Depends on the human."

"Right. Cause Rowena smells soooo good."

Cas locks the safety on Dean's gun and pockets it. (Dean's gonna need that back eventually.)

"She does. She puts much effort into her personal care. Beauty sleep. Personal spa days. She once told me she frequently bathes in rose petals."

"Are you shittin' me? You like it when humans soak in their own filth with herbs n' crap?"

"I liken it to, what is it you were trying to teach Sam to make a few weeks? With the marinations?"

"Stew?"

"Yes."

"Now I know you're shittin' me."

Cas smiles a little wider, and Dean scoffs.

"And anyway man, if there are demons out-and-about wearing Versace Erose for Men, you gotta give me my gun back."

Cas looks sheepish. "When I was withdrawing your gun, I ripped your holster."

"What the?" Dean's hand goes to his hip. Yup. Holy crap. How does that even happen, by catching one of the metal studs?

“How the fuck did you accidentally rip leather?"

Cas shrugs. "I was under duress."

Dean makes a big show of rolling his eyes as he steps closer. "I don't need a holster to handle a gun, dumbass."

If nothing else, the banter offers a good excuse to plunge his hand into Cas's pocket. Part of him wants to prod further, to tease in the weirdest ways, and he's almost too chicken-shit to do it.

Instead of diving for the pocket, he fingers the hem of Cas's sleeve. "How would you like it if I just up and ripped your clothes, huh?"

Cas straightens, quietly assessing. "It wouldn't bother me, especially if you were in the process of saving my life."

Dean puts two fingers to the inside of Cas's wrist, right where folks tend to dab stuff like cologne. Perfume. Whatever.

It'd be hard to grab Cas's knife from this angle. Dean dimly recalls doing it long-ago. He'd had the Mark of Cain back then, a deep unyielding power that protected the integrity of his skin.

Now, grabbing a triple-blade from here...it'd likely cut him.

"Might, uh, might be good to practice the move sometime. You know. Because we might actually need to grab for each other's, uh, weapons in case of, you know, unexpected...ness. Like today. Might be good to practice so something dumb doesn't happen, like you ripping my holster...or me cutting my hand."

He's horrifically aware that he's babbling.

But Cas doesn't blink. He flips his hand over, extending a loose, open palm, almost like he's reaching for Dean's hand.

"I can trigger my blade, but the timing is important to catch it by the handle."

The corpse of the demon gurgles, like it's still alive. Might be a good idea for Dean to stake him with Cas's blade. Just in case.

"Ready?" Cas asks, and holy shit.

Now?

Dean doesn't know what to say, so he nods frantically. With a Shhhk, the blade snaps out, and Dean snakes his own out to take it. For the briefest of moments, Dean's hand is sandwiched--Cas's blade one one side, Cas's open palm on the other.

Dean firms up his grip and pulls the blade up at the ready. Gives it a little flip to show off his prowess with the triple edge. As always, Cas's blade is unnatural in its perfect, otherworldly balance.

Cas takes a long inhale, and Dean has the urge to tease him again. ("You exercisin' that keen sense of smell, bud?") But before the taunt leaves his lips, there's motion near the door, just over Cas's shoulder.

A man in a cheap suit, raising a gun.

Heart in his throat, Dean acts on instinct. Lets the blade fly.

It hits its target with deadly accuracy, spraying arterial blood from the demon's neck and blinking a shock of demon-black before it thuds to the ground.

Dean's ragged breathing fills the air like a panic attack.

Cas is calmer. As before, he moves off. Then he kneels and yanks his blade out from where it had lodged. He returns it (still bloody) to his sleeve. Then he empties the demon's gun of its angel-blade bullets.

When he crosses the room, he holds the bullets out for Dean to inspect. It's moments like this where Dean wishes that, for all their utilitarian value, bullets like this never existed.

The more invincible Cas can be, the better.

"Did you get empty Bel-air's bullets out, too?"

"Yes."

Cas closes his hand and pockets the rest of the bullets. On the way back from his pocket, he fishes out Dean's gun and extends it.

"Here. We should patrol the parameter."

Dean closes around the gun. "B-be careful," he chokes out. "I don't like that they have those angel-bullets onboard, you know?"

Cas nods, and they move into a guarded position, flattening against the wall and close-crawling towards the exterior of the warehouse.

"Don't like that you can't smell 'em or whatever either," Dean whispers, not expecting a reply.

"Yes. All I can smell right now is you."

It's not the right time for Dean's chest to be hammering this hard, and it's definitely not the time for his mouth to malfunction and spit out the stupidest words since MacArthur Park.

"Do I at least smell better than Rowena?"

The silence goes on too long, and Dean almost forgets to scan the parameter. He's afraid to look back, to see whatever expression (or lack of expression) Cas must be wearing.

"Yes."

Dean's heart does a terrible flip-flop.

"Oh," he rasps. "Good. That's...good. You...yeah."

Suddenly all he wants to do is go home to where it's safe and warm. Not out here where douchebag demons could be lurking around the corner with their melted-down angel-killing bullets.

They patrol the rest of the parameter in silence, while Cas's 'yes' echoes like a skipping records in Dean's head.

When they finally make it back to the car, Dean lets the silence ride. He reaches for the radio, intent on letting music wash away the intensity of the evening.

But before Dean can cover up the silence, Cas breaks it.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

There's a third-degree burn starting on Dean's neck. "Cas," he grits.

"Many humans smell pleasant to me, Dean. You included."

It's nice for Cas to be the one rambling for once. Dean smirks.

"What, you sayin' 'm not special? I thought my musk was wholesome organic, like a marinated stew."

Cas quirks a brow, surprising Dean with a volley of his own.

"Well. You could use some rose petals."

Dean barks a laugh as he turns up the radio, and Cas leans back with a tiny smile.

"Maybe I will!" Dean shouts over the music.

///

Loosely inspired by this post I didn't wanna bother you with my shit-posting but thanks for the random brainworms

[3terna15unshin3]

Then Because She Goes

Instagram AU (volume ii)

volume i — back to masterlist — volume iii

a/n: These are far too fun make lmfao so expect more in the future maybe no promises tho

—

trumanblack

Liked by patriciavillirillo and 322,992 others

trumanblack Tell me you like my hair or else

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1975adam Covid crazies at its finest

_fake_nudes_ sickkkkkk

este.manansala 2013 you wore it better

↳ Liked by rass1975 and 112 others

↳ trumanblack You love it

-- ↳ este.manansala K fine u look fit

whatashaaame i like it ..? i think?

19 April, 2020

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1 May, 2020

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este.manansala

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este.manansala a studio-matty pic on main since Notes is out today✨ it is without a doubt the1975’s best work and well worth the wait

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softsoundd_ Fav song???

↳ este.manansala tough to pick but probably Then Because She Goes or Me & You Together Song :)) or Jesus Christ bc i’m a _fake_nudes_ stan

-- ↳ trumanblack Good taste👍

jamieoborne ❤️

22 May, 2020

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28 May, 2020

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trumanblack

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trumanblack Fuuuuck I miss being on stage💔 but happy pride, my girlfriend is bi so does she deserve rights yes or no?? Comment below👇👇👇

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_catekeeling no none of that gay shit

↳ g3orgiaheadley Agreed x

parisagain GIRLFRIEND........????????

↳ elsie.ahmed babe this is old news where have u been

-- ↳ parisagain Omg fr?😭😭

---- ↳ elsie.ahmed yeah literally i've been following her since he reposted a pic of hers in like Jan of last year💀💀 they're really cute

este.manansala Drop the f slur again like in Roadkill. As a gift to me and the gays

↳ trumanblack Yo chill wtf

2 June, 2020

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7 June, 2020

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trumanblack

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trumanblack Getting healthy so I can be more toxic

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este.manansala Stop bragging about the fact that you've read Infinite Jest

↳ trumanblack Well have u read it???? No

este.manansala cute pic tho very wholesome & Pinterest

↳ trumanblack Thank u love u

11 July, 2020

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este.manansala

Liked by newamericana88 and 6,843 others

este.manansala currently streaming folklore as u all should be as well ! but not my tears ricochet bc that's MY song...

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loveitifwemaadeit_ sooooo gorgeous wow

trumanblack Holy shit

trumanblack How are u real

trumanblack Give me a fucking break

↳ este.manansala are u saying I should delete ?

-- ↳ trumanblack I mean if u do I've still got the real thing so

_catekeeling goddess xx

↳ este.manansala I miss uuuuuuu call me !!!!!!!

25 July, 2020

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25 July, 2020

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trumanblack

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trumanblack If low rise jeans are rlly coming back here's a pic of me wearing them last year so that u know I was ahead of the trend

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este.manansala Hi x

↳ trumanblack Heyyy

poesiedanslarue Oh the hip tatt wow

bedforddanes75 Gay

20 September, 2020

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este.manansala

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este.manansala This weekend

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trumanblack God what’s with my hair

↳ este.manansala u literally made it that way

9 November, 2020

[prismaticpichu]

Cloud tells his mom about Sephiroth locking himself in the basement and he hasn't eaten in days. She figures that is just NOT GOOD and makes him a home cooked meal and a jug of lemonade and determinedly goes to the mansion to deliver it...

Heck yeah! Them maternal instincts kicking IN! ❤️

Claudia is not at all unnerved by the ambience of the manor. Not in the slightest. She has the rawest of Nibelheim hearts, desensitized to anything and everything the town has to throw at her. Cobwebs? Nah. Creaky stairs? Please! She’s wrapped her delivery in layers upon layers of tinfoil so a speck of dust can’t so much as LOOK in the direction of her food. It was for the sad, confused military man!

Sephiroth is as oblivious as ever as she reaches the room, his nose buried in a book and about half of the library’s arsenal scattered around him.

“Excuse me… Sir?”

Sephiroth stiffens, and his world blips. It isn’t that fuzzy shape’s voice that he heard just then, pleading for him to come back, pleading for the 100th time. It’s… different. Completely different. Satiny, almost. Velvety.

Loving,

Is this—

Sephiroth’s voice leaves him in a crack. “…Mother?”

Claudia, standing by the door, is very confused. But it’s an amused confusion that flashes across her face.

“You can say that, dear. I’m Cloud’s mother. He came here with you on the mission.” She smiles. “He’s told me a lot about you.”

Sephiroth turns around then. The names don’t click in his mind, almost ricocheting. The only thing that truly sticks—that matters—is the fact that she is NOT his mother. She is no one then. Irrelevant.

“Get out,” Sephiroth snarls, that previous awe draining from his eyes. “Now.”

Claudia, though, is not deterred. Not in the slightest. She sees his eyes, and sees the ink splotched all around them. Clear as daylight, dark as bruises. Dark as the ones her poor Cloud used to come home with. These books—they are bullies. That’s what they are. They are hurting him. He needs to get out of here.

And by Gaia, he is so thin. So pale. He needs to eat!

Sephiroth takes a step back as Claudia steps forward, the unearthly shape of his eyes quivering. But them maternal instincts are already activated. She carefully unwraps the big, delicious grilled Chocobo and hands it out to him, her voice soft and gentle, channeling all the nights and tears and solaces ribboned between the very essence of her motherly soul.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

Maybe it’s the way she said it. Maybe it was the way she looked while saying it. Maybe it was how good the Chocobo smelled in that dusty library. Something in Sephiroth splinters then—a toxic, steely fortress mortared with instinct and vulnerability cracking from her presence. And a fortress can’t stand with one crack; so it crumbles entirely.

They sit together on the floor, and Sephiroth tells her everything. He breaks into a sob, telling of his friends, how he can’t let go of their betrayal, how it still stings. He tells her of the revelations in the Reactor, of what flowed through his veins and the lies he was built around.

And Claudia listens. She listens, and she tells him that it’s okay. Over and over and over. That it’s not his fault. That nothing is. That he’s…

“Dear…” Claudia takes her plate back, only shiny white bones remaining. “You are not a monster.”

There’s something about the way she says it—the kindness in her voice, the tenderness in her eyes, the warmth of her aura… Sephiroth brushes his hair aside, sniveling.

He thinks he believes her.

They leave the manor that very night, Claudia’s love squeezing through his plated shoulder as they return to the surface of the town. Zack pulls Sephiroth into a hug and thanks Claudia profusely for bringing him back, and as Sephiroth hugs him back, as he starts to cry, Cloud watches the scene unfold with a whole spectrum damn full of questions. He goes to stand beside his mother.

“Wow, Ma. What did you do to get the general back?”

Claudia only smiles. “Just what every mother knows best.”

And all of a sudden there’s a giant silver-haired man guy thing towering over Cloud in the family photo. Yippie-do!

[scavengerssuccotash]

Hi! I love your clintasha stuff so much.

Do you have any headcanons for clintasha angst?! I’ve always imagined that with their age gap, nat’s closeness to Steve (in the MCU anyway), Clint’s insecurities and hidden anger streak (as seen in Endgame with Ronin), and the fact that they both have quite dominant personalities, conditions can sometimes be ripe for an argument.

And when they do fight, they fight! Like all the avengers/SHIELD are on edge for days because of the tension. And eventually one of them just gets so upset not having the other there that they will work up the courage to apologize.

Aww! Why thank you so much I’m glad you’re enjoying them!

I picture the fights between Clint and Nat to be a micro equivalent of the Cold War. Well, unlike the Cold War it does get hot! (Pun intended!) Picture the Cuban Missile crisis but make it between two very dominate and very opinionated and highly skilled individuals whose combined capabilities could level any building with a three block radius.

That my friend is what happens when Clint and Nat trade blows. Fortunately for New York and Avengers Tower they’ve managed to reserve their anger to sharp-tongued barbs and egg-shell tense silence. At least while in front of the team…until one or the other cracks and a dish gets thrown.

(Clint threw a coffee cup and missed Natasha obviously, Natasha predictably got offended that he missed on purpose. Steve had to cut in between them, which only redirected their anger onto him much to his supreme confusion.

“Oh wow look at Cap really putting your namesake to use huh? Do you have a list of thirteen points?!”

“Kindly fuck off old man, not every fight needs your fucking help!”

Clint and Nat promptly shared a look. Twenty minutes later everyone heard the ‘kiss and make-up’)

Clint definitely has an anger streak roughly six miles long but he hides it very very well. It took Phil a lot of blood (literally), sweat, and tears to help Clint get a handle on his shit when he first joined SHIELD. While his anger bursts are few and far in between, when they do explode out of him he has at least learned to redirect that anger onto his physical surroundings and be mindful that maybe punching a concrete wall wouldn’t do his shooting hand well. One of the first things Natasha ever gave him was a tennis ball. She picked it up on a whim during a mission because Clint was annoyingly restless, and figuratively bouncing off the walls with energy that he needed to expend but couldn’t because the mission was geared towards her skill set rather than his. He still has it to this day and whenever he feels the tell-tell hotness burning up his spine that comes with a burst of anger he’ll take out the tennis ball and start ricocheting it off the walls. (It drives Tony absolutely fucking nuts.)

Natasha’s anger is far more…precise. Like a surgeon’s scalpel compared to the mini nuke that is Clint’s. She specializes in using silence, passive aggression and careful word choice to express her anger, which inevitably triggers Clint’s mouth because he hates getting ignored. Especially by her. If by the fourth day neither of them crack Clint will start the truce with her favorite meal, a hot drawn bath and a list of apologies. Afterwards they’ll talk it out, between rounds of sex. (Clint’s of the mind that Natasha will just start some if the fights for the make up sex. Natasha only confirms this much later when physically backed into a corner. He really can’t blame her, he’s done it at least once or twice.)

Natasha’s apologies require a lot less forethought. Clint drops whatever argument they’re having at the sight of her bare breasts, along with his pants. This neat trick lasted for ohh about the second big blow out, when Clint afterwards rolled over and demanded that if she was gonna just fuck their problems away they might as well call it quits. “Don’t get me wrong you’ve got great tits and the sex is mind blowing but if great tits and mind blowing sex is all it takes we’ve got bigger problems, Tasha.” In the end they keep the sex, but Natasha makes an effort to truly truly talk it all out, which in returns Clint rewards. Quite enthusiastically.

For the more minor spats, they save those for the training mats, trading punches and ass pinches. By the time that’s all done they’re lying on their backs sweating through their clothes and laughing. They might be dating, but ultimately they’re competitive best friends through and through.

[redheadnamedkatelyn]

A LITTLE UPDATE😊😊

@taylorswift idk if you still have tumblr but, i always used to do these little updates and its been awhile so i figured i’d do one:)

it’s been a minute! but wow has time gone by. i started this account when i was either 12 or 13, and i turned 18 a couple of months ago. this past year, has been crazy! i got to meet two of my best friends, natalia and sasha for the first time! i’ve known for 5 years (3,000 miles has nothing on us) and met them through this very fan account :’) so thank you taylor because without you, i would never have been able to meet them.

as soon as i turned 18, i went and got my first taylor inspired tattoo, “go with grace”. its taken out of context of my tears ricochet but its okay i still love it. its my daily reminder to be a kind person, and to give everyone a little grace.

ALSO?? TTPD. yea. that’s it. it’s a lyrical masterpiece and i think it’s taken the number 1 spot over lover for me.

i’m officially out of high school yayay!! legit was the longest 4 years of my life, but i made it out! im planning on going to college in the fall, and majoring in psychology hopefully!! anyway, thats kinda all.

as always, i’ll forever stay! & if anyone reads this, i hope you have a good day 🫶

[kellykswift]

Mass coming out theory vs. Taylors work

So I d like to add my 2 cents to this excellent post, done by @daisyswift3

DISCLAIMER: I know that her art has other references / meanings as well like for example the ones about her muse etc. But I am ONLY focusing on the mass coming out theory connecting to Taylors work

I think this mass coming out theory is true and the first "public" easter egg was this interview in 2021 - when Taylor promoted RED TV. She is talking about easter eggs and jumping in the water.

WATER. SEA. OCEAN. - keep en eye out for those. She already told us in 2021. So i digged into it because it totally makes sense in 2024 - also with the latest events, posted by @daisyswift3

When the theory is correct and the plan of the mass coming out started around 2020/2021 – then we need to take a look into Taylors work. In this interview she also said that she recently hid her secret codes in the capital letters of her lowercase lyrics. So folklore is the first album with ONLY lowercase song titles. Maybe this mass coming out thing was just an idea first, but by the end of 2021, when RED TV was released, the plan fall got more specific.

So lets start with FOLKLORE

We know that Taylor is an excellent cone artist (aka cowboy like me). Maybe the lowercase thing was just an idea at first and the plan was not specific yet, therefore she only dropped the hint in an interview in 2021.

When Folklore was released, she made sure we believe Folklore is pure fiction written from different perspectives. But she also said in an interview when asked about it (one of the few she did for Folklore):

My world felt opened up creatively. There was a point that I got to as a writer who only wrote very diaristic songs that I felt it was unsustainable for my future moving forward. So what I felt after we put out Folklore was like "oh wow, people are into this too, this thing that feels really good for my life and feels really good for my creativity… it feels good for them too?"

— Swift on how Folklore changed her creative process moving forward, Apple Music 1

What if the original plan of a mass coming out was established during this writing process? The tortured poets, where Taylor is chairman … they existed in 2020.

Here are the songs containing water, sea, ocean imagery either in lyrics or in actual images.

BONUS:  mentioning of poets the first time in the lakes (and she made sure we get it because she released the original version of this song on July 24, 2021.

Remember the whole Woodvale thing?

… none of it was accidental.

The 1: Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool

cardigan: Leaving like a father, running like water

The Last Great American Dynasty: They say she was seen on occasion, pacing the rocks, staring out at the midnight sea

My Tears Ricochet: And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves

Seven: Feet in the swing over the creek

Peace: I’m a fire and I’ll keep your brittle heart warm if your cascade, ocean wave blues come

The Lakes: Take me to the Lakes where all the poets went to die

Hoax

This is me trying

August

Exile

So lets move on to EVERMORE

To be honest, I am not so sure how Evermore fits into the narrative. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t acknowledge it, although it’s an amazing peace of art!

My guess is, that she made another HUGE hint to TTPD. It was released on Emily Dickinson's birthday.

… so does this sound familiar?

Also I think Guilty as sin is related to Evermore: I keep these longings locked in lower case inside a vault (Gold rush for example).

Water

So WATER. SEA. OCEAN.

willow: I’m like the water when your ship rolled in that night

gold rush: Eyes like sinking ships on waters so inviting, I almost jumped in

Long Story Short: And my waves meet your shore ever and evermore

Marjorie: Long limbs and frozen swims, you’d always go past where our feet could touch

Evermore: I’m on waves, out being tossed

Coney Island

Happiness

No body no crime

Carolina – released on june 24 2022 – this whole movie is basically on water.

O Carolina creeks running through my veins

Carolina: It’s between me, the sand, and the sea

Also very TTPD themed:

Oh, Carolina knows Why for years they've said That I was guilty as sin And sleep in a liar's bed But the sleep comes fast And I'll meet no ghosts It's between me, the sand, and the sea

Cassandra:

So, they killed Cassandra first 'cause she feared the worst And tried to tell the town So, they filled my cell with snakes, I regret to say Do you believe me now?

Guilty as sin

Someone told me There's no such thing as bad thoughts Only your actions talk These fatal fantasies Giving way to labored breath Taking all of me We've already done it in my head If it's make believe Why does it feel like a vow We'll both uphold somehow?

TSMWEL

Were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? Did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed? Were you writing a book? Were you a sleeper cell spy? In fifty years, will all this be declassified? And you'll confess why you did it And I'll say, "Good riddance" 'Cause it wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden I would've died for your sins Instead, I just died inside

The ghost in Anti Hero

I just love the ghost, that’s why I put it here.

So flash forward to midnights. My assumption is, that since the pandemic has been over, and she was able to tour again, she wanted to do one LAST TS the brand heist (because speak now diamond heist music video was a hint to that) and create the biggest thing possible. The Eras tour. I haven’t looked much into midnights but the main hint for the mass coming out theory is the last scene in her tour: the Truman show paralells.

Here is the post to this analysis:

https://www.tumblr.com/kylieswift31/757073433557352448?source=share

I know it sounds crazy but I think the whole TTPD concept started already around 2021 before midnights was released.

If you wanna fall down the rabbit whole, here are also some amazing connections:

[delicatedayzee]

Happy 1 year anniversary to the era’s tour! I was at nights 1 & 2 in Glendale. Here are my thoughts as I was thinking them throughout the show:

“Omg this stage is massive”

“There don’t seem to be any places for her to pop out of.” (Lol)

“Will she even have any dancers?!” (I was a dummy)

“You don’t own me?! Omg what a perfect song”

“It’s a clock!”

“Are those peacocks?”

“MISS AMERICANA?!?!”

“CRUEL SUMMER?! Omg thank god.” (I was so worried she wouldn’t play it for some reason and it was the ONE song I needed to hear so I could relax the rest of the show. 😅)

“She looks like Barbie” 💖

“Oh…the man….great” (not a fave of mine and I truly thought there would only be time for like 19 songs haha)

“Oh ok, we are doing them in eras!”

“Her dancers have a lot of diversity among them in lots of ways, I’m very happy to see this.”

“WE HAVE TIME FOR THE ARCHER?!” (I was thrilled!)!

“Wow the lover era was really long, she’ll only be able to play a few songs from everything else” (HA)

“Oooh sparks, must be speak now” (it was Fearless lol)

“OMG WE GET TO HEAR FEARLESS LIVE”

“TIS THE DAMN SEASONNN?!?!??”

“MARJORIE?!? Of course, this makes sense.”

“Omg I’m so so glad Tolerate made it and that was fire.”

“Damn her rep outfit is amazing”

“Look what you made me do transition and all the old Taylor’s=perfection.”

“Only one Speak Now song?! 😩😭”

*disappointment that there was no Holy Ground*

*elation that she was playing ATW10MV*

“Invisible String?! 🥺”

“LAST GREAT AMERICAN DYNASTY?!”

“DONT CALL ME KID, DONT CALL ME BABY”

“MY TEARS RICOCHET?!?!?” (And wow the visuals of this one)

“Ooh the golf club is back”

“Damn that bad blood fire is hot”

“Holy shit this a long show and she still has midnights and debut left”

“Awww Tim McGraw on piano!” (Truly thought that was the debut era section the first night)

“Holy shit the dive into the stage. SO COOL!”

“We get to hear MIDNIGHT RAIN?!”

“Holy shitttt vigilante shit?! This is hot!”

“Oh so she’s closing with Bejeweled. Cute!”

“Oh, nevermind must be closing with Mastermind.”

“Wrong again, KARMA IS A CAT!”

“How did she do that?! Omg am I going to be able to walk tomorrow? That was insane. I can’t believe I just saw that with my eyeballs. I’m so tired. How did she do that?! How is she going to continue to do that?! Omg I can’t wait to see it again. Omg I’m so proud of her. That. Was. Incredible.”