#oh I forgot his age. uhhh nearly two.

[cactihawkeye]

#alfie dog #working cocker spaniel #this is pretty mediocre photography but you know #check out my dog performing gundog behaviours #(retrieve dummy and deliver to hand) #instead of terrible dog behaviours #(chase guard and consume tennis ball) #he got distracted a lot but I am still excited that he’ll wait and find and retrieve and deliver while offlead in a wood. for dried papaya. #obviously if he was a real dog he’d be working 9-5 fully focused no treats. but small victories. #oh I forgot his age. uhhh nearly two. #he’ll be two at the end of the month I do not know where the time goes.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

In the Arms of the Anus

Fandom: Spider-Man, Thor Pairing: Roger Harrington/Grandmaster Rating: T Word Count: 8883

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @spiderman-homecomeme!!!

Summary: While people all over the world are finding their soulmates, Roger Harrington can barely find time to grab a sandwich. Clumsy, anxious, and stagnating in a mediocre marriage, it's a miracle that he still believes in love.

Today's the day the universe rewards that belief.

Three things about Roger Harrington: he’d just tripped on the sidewalk, he worried daily that he was developing a bald spot, and, at the age of 36, he felt he still believed in love as strongly as did the little girl in his building who’d made all the residents Valentine’s Day cards the year before.

The cards—which Roger had found endearing while his wife had been baffled to the point of annoyance—had been wedged into everyone’s mailbox sometime on the afternoon of last May 19th, and maybe that was why he thought of them today, exactly a year later.

It was helpful, he found, to consider love in markers of time passing, or just numbers. The anniversary of those Valentine’s cards would always be 271 days early, leap year or not. Roger had been married twice, longer the second time. He had zero children, and that was alright with him because he wasn’t totally sure that he did want kids and, anyway, he was too profoundly stressed about the welfare of the teenagers he taught at Midtown to comfortably imagine himself as a fulltime parent.

His wife was cool. Significantly cooler than he was. She drove out of the city to hike every other weekend (he had never joined her and hoped to never be called upon for woodsy companionship), had once performed an emergency tracheotomy on a friend at a dinner party, and had a tattoo on her hip that predated their relationship, which made it consequently, eternally, enigmatic, no matter how many times she told the objectively trite story of its acquisition. Also, she was a casual shoplifter, which made him very, very nervous in a way that he found difficult to differentiate from how he felt when he was turned on.

He was the kind of person who consistently forgot to take his glasses off before stepping into the shower. She was the kind of person who would run into and recognize a famous race car driver at Whole Foods (that had happened) or fake her own death (that had not happened—knock on wood!). Essentially, what and who his second wife was was the natural successor to his first wife (the reckless young bride to his insomniac young groom), who had in turn been the natural successor to the only other romantic encounter of his life worth mentioning: a kiss on the cheek at a birthday party on the day the Berlin Wall fell. Roger had been seven.

So his romantic history was speckled and, in two out of three cases, spoke a little too loudly of a need for legally-recognized codependence. So he didn’t feel like a man anyone would ever get a tattoo in honour of. So his wife had been a little unkind in the long pause before her negative when he’d asked her if she thought he was getting a bald spot. Roger still felt that love was going to happen for him. Hopefully sustained in his current marriage, but if not, there was always what Julius Dell had taken to (highly unscientifically) calling the Love Wave.

If Roger decided to be really delusional, he could pretend that the Love Wave was to blame for his stumble over uneven concrete on his way to grab lunch. That he was finally feeling its cosmic tug. Not that he would be the last to sense it—the inexplicable force that had lately begun guiding people the world over to their new partners—but every day that he didn’t, he feared his wife would feel it first and go careening out of their life together in a Thelma and Louise-style launch that somehow left her intact and him feeling like he’d plummeted to his death at the bottom of a canyon. Sometimes, when he thought about it, he imagined feeling that impulse to go to this destined soulmate and pictured it leading him home. Not in some metaphorical way, but literally home, to the apartment he shared with his wife, to find her arriving at the same time, the two of them matched up, the universe endorsing their marriage.

The reality was that he was a man with clumsy feet (and knees and elbows) who’d forgotten to pack himself a lunch and had just enough self-awareness (though probably not dignity) not to believe that eating in the cafeteria with his students was something he would be able to socially recover from.

He thought about a poorly-cut-out pink heart glued to a fold of red craft paper. He went to buy a sandwich.

At the deli, Roger waited in line and didn’t so much allow his mind to wander—like a dog off-leash in a dog park—as feel his mind jerk insistently away—like a dog on-leash, trying to snap a dropped slice of pizza off the sidewalk. He was violently not present as his thoughts migrated from Valentine’s Day cards to lesson plans to the anxiety he always felt over the fact of never seeming to have enough power to go with the tremendous sense of responsibility he felt for all situations in which he was even remotely involved. He would have, should have, continued to shuffle vacantly forward in line, except that the man ahead of him grumbled something that drew his focus.

What he grumbled was: “Even the Sorcerer Supreme should be able to spare a minute to decide what kind of sandwich he wants.”

Now, Roger Harrington was a man of science, but he was also a man who had previously enjoyed a close friendship with the Hulk (and if anyone challenged him on specific parameters within that assertion, Roger knew that he would cry). Aliens swarmed the sky like clouds of bees. There were compilation videos of Spider-Man nearly getting hit by city buses that could’ve been designed expressly to see how hard Roger could flinch. For a clumsy man with the unathletic, knock-kneed gait of Pippi Longstocking, Roger did his best to roll with the supernatural punches. Hey, this was how science worked too: just because there wasn’t a precedent yet didn’t mean there never would be. Just because he couldn’t explain something didn’t mean no one could. Sorcerers? Alright. There could be sorcerers.

“Sorcerers?” Roger blurted to the man, overeager to expel the word.

All other words had fled to the back of his mind, twitching in an agitated cluster, leaving just the one to be snatched frantically from the surface. Like fishing. (Roger had never been fishing. One of his greatest fears was having a live fish somehow jump into his shoe and stepping on it by accident.)

“Uhhh,” the man droned. He looked uneasy. If Roger knew how to make his eyes a little less wide in situations like these, he would’ve done it.

“No, yeah, sorcerers, sure,” Roger swiftly backpedaled. “I’m a teacher.”

As if being a teacher equaled knowledge of sorcerers. As if that were a normal unit of the high school curriculum. Roger’s understanding of sorcerers began and ended with Mickey Mouse in a blue wizard’s hat. He wondered if that was sort of the standard look.

The man did not appear reassured. Roger thrust his hand forward.

“Roger Harrington, Midtown Tech.”

Face still wary, his deli companion shook hands.

“Wong.”

“So, this sorcerer of yours didn’t pick a sandwich?” The line shuffled forward and, now in reach of the long glass case of food, Roger attempted to lean his elbow casually against it, misjudged the distance, and jerked back upright again before he could fall over.

“No… You heard that part too?”

“If I could hear the part about the sorcerer, why wouldn’t I be able to hear the rest?”

“I think most people would’ve been so fixated on the sorcerer thing that they wouldn’t really absorb the part about the sandwich.”

“Just got sandwiches on the brain, I guess,” Roger said.

God, if Wong knew a sorcerer, odds were that he was a sorcerer too. (Roger based this on being a teacher with almost exclusively teacher friends and acquaintances.) He was making it sound like he cared more about sandwiches, he knew he was. He stared silently at Wong for a few painful seconds and wondered if the man could tell that he had worked for a sandwich shop as a teenager—the role of wearing a full-body sandwich costume and standing on the sidewalk, trying to attract people into the shop.

But Wong surprised him by nodding.

“You could get one of everything,” Roger heard himself suggest.

He was not typically one to make suggestions, but rather one to panic when other people did and he was in the position of having to choose between them. He could never decide on a restaurant for he and his wife’s now few-and-far-between date nights, or provide straightforward feedback when she asked for his opinion on her clothing choices… which movie they should see… what they should buy for her friend’s sister’s housewarming gift...

Oh god, she was probably going to fake her own death and his biggest anxiety was knowing that someone would ask him to choose the casket!

“I have like…” Wong jingled his pockets and extracted a fistful of coins that, when he opened his hand, Roger saw belonged to several different currencies. “…six bucks.”

Like a mirror with a delay, Roger patted his own pockets to locate his wallet. He flipped it open to reveal something promising and terrifying: he’d forgotten to return the school credit card after the last field trip he’d chaperoned. He shouldn’t, but… sorcerer.

“I think this’ll cover it,” Roger said. “It’s for emergency expenses.”

“Like lunch?” Wong asked doubtfully.

“I could be very hungry.”

“They sell seventeen different types of sandwiches here.”

“I could be very, very hungry.”

Wong shrugged in evident acquiescence and Roger marvelled that it was so simple for him to accept this act of generosity. Roger couldn’t recall the last time someone had been as generous towards him. Wait, yes he could. The Valentine’s Day card. Well, handing over a credit card that wasn’t technically his didn’t exactly equate to presenting his ticket at the Love Wave gates (not that there were such things—not that he’d know), but he was hoping to trade this generosity up for a different magical experience in the near future.

When they reached the front of the line for service, Roger ordered a total of eighteen sandwiches. (And received an undisguised groan of complaint from the people still in line behind himself and Wong.) While they waited, Roger buzzed like the posterchild for over-caffeination, doing his best not to let his excitement translate into erratic movements.

Of course, once the sandwiches were presented and paid for, it only made sense for Roger to help Wong carry them all. His own ham-and-Swiss was stuffed into one of the three bags and they were all bulging, threatening to spill. If one of them ripped on Wong’s journey back to wherever he had to take them, who would be there to gather the sandwiches into their arms so that Wong wouldn’t have to leave them on the ground? Roger was clearly the best (only) person for the job.

And if they talked on the way? That would be natural. If Wong stared at him with abrupt, unyielding suspicion the instant Roger attempted to negotiate a visit with this ‘Sorcerer Supreme’ in exchange for buying his lunch? Yeah. Yeah that suspicion would be fair.

“Not for my sake!” Roger defended as Wong blinked back at him. “For the kids!”

“The Sorcerer Supreme isn’t a birthday party magician.”

“No, I would never imply that! These are bright kids. They’d be there to learn, respectfully. They’ve had their own traumatic encounter with Spider-Man already so there wouldn’t be any clambering to meet another person with superhuman powers!”

“What did Spider-Man do to traumatize them?”

Wong looked interested now, in an entertained sort of way. Meanwhile, Roger was having a flashback of his life flashing before his eyes inside the Washington Monument.

“Actually, he saved us,” Roger explained. “That’s not the point. It would be purely educational. You and the Sorcerer Supreme would call the shots. As long as it wasn’t anything dangerous.”

“Dangerous? We would never put children at risk!”

Roger was about to clarify that he hadn’t meant to imply that they would when he realized Wong seemed to be taking this as a reason to prove himself, or to make the other sorcerer prove what he’d just said.

“I would hope not,” Roger said carefully, “because not all of the children I’ve taken on field trips have come back alive and that haunts me.”

“Well, what haunts me is everything I’ve seen and learned from in order to become someone who could now guarantee a safe field trip environment.”

“Well, that would be great.”

“Well, good,” Wong concluded.

Roger looked down at the bag he was holding as he dug out his sandwich. His wrist twisted and he caught the time on his watch. Oh wow, oh no, his lunch break was almost over.

“Ok, deal,” he said quickly. “We’ll come by next Tuesday!”

“I’ll be out here to let you in!” Wong agreed with a parting wave.

Roger took off running in the direction of Midtown and when that got too awful, he wheezed like an asthmatic and waited at the closest bus stop.

—

Roger had expected Principal Morita to say there was no room in their budget for this trip. That they were nearing the end of the school year, that parents and guardians would be reluctant to sign another form for an excursion that Roger could only give a vague, stammering explanation of. At the very least, he’d anticipated the journey via school bus in lurching, stop-and-start traffic to take so long that the kids would revolt; Flash Thompson would lead the complaints that they could’ve walked to their destination faster than the ride took and Roger would feel the primal horror of a confrontation with a self-possessed teenager who wielded the kind of peer influence Roger could only have dreamed of when he’d been Flash’s age.

But no.

Highly improbably (Roger didn’t like to consider it miraculous), things went smoothly. The trip cleared the budget assessment on zero notice because, besides renting the single bus to transport the students, their outing didn’t actually have any costs. Permission slips came back signed. Traffic was light. And dear, dear Flash—who usually gave Roger so much anxiety—slapped the hand Roger raised to shield his eyes from the sun as his students disembarked from the bus, rewarding him with a surprise high-five for getting them out of the classroom on a Tuesday afternoon. It almost knocked Roger’s glasses off.

They were ushered inside by Wong, who was now laying the mystical solemnity on pretty thick. He certainly wasn’t talking about sandwiches or complaining about the Supreme Sorcerer under his breath.

Before Roger could feel too good about himself though, he realized he’d had time to run through his headcount of the students three times without interruption. Normally, something would happen partway through his first count and he’d be uneasy for the rest of the day, sure that one of the kids had fallen down a manhole or been stampeded by a dog-walker’s unruly canine swarm. The universe shoved teenagers into the path of bike couriers with one hand and paired up soulmates with the other. That was just how things went! However, inside this house (or, no, Sanctum, Wong had called it), the air was still and quiet.

“Do you think he’s gonna make himself appear out of thin air?” Roger heard Ned ask at a whisper. “Or out of a wardrobe, or a trapdoor, or one of those boxes people get in to get sawed in half?”

“Those are cheap tricks,” Wong said loudly. He stared unsympathetically at Roger’s motley group, hand closed around his opposite wrist to maintain a serious pose. “The man you’ll be meeting shortly has capabilities that far outstrip those of the kind of magician-for-hire you’d find in a phonebook.”

From behind him, Roger heard Peter ask Ned what a phonebook was.

“What kind of capabilities then?” Flash demanded.

Roger sighed and was turning to reprimand his student when Wong said, “Like this!”

The man faked a sneeze of horrific volume and range, doubling over and cupping his hand around his mouth and nose. When he straightened up and presented his open palm, there was a raspberry sitting in it.

Roger closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself and his teaching career played on a fast-forwarded film reel behind his lids. The Sorcerer Supreme was a no-show; all Roger had accomplished was taking the kids to a weird building to witness a man pretend to sneeze out a raspberry. Midtown Tech was going to fire him. His wife would recognize his unemployment as a reason to leave him. Depressingly, Roger was thinking about how that would almost be a relief—an end to his incessant worrying that they were really kind of a mismatch—and he was thinking it while he blankly watched Wong eat the raspberry he’d just feigned dislodging from his nasal cavity.

He was really unprepared for a different man to come sweeping down the stairs, motion with his hand, and have a red sheet come whizzing down after him to settle itself on his shoulders. Roger blinked. He heard the mixed noises of fright and appreciation from his students.

Then Flash piped up with, “That’s just a trick. It’s wires or something.”

Roger backed into the cluster of his charges and, without taking his eyes off the obvious Magical Guy in front of him, reached over and placed his hand across Flash’s mouth.

Unfortunately, his censorship seemed to be too late. The Sorcerer’s narrowed eyes zoned in on Flash.

“Oh yeah? How ’bout this? Is this just a trick?”

Fingers splayed, the man moved his hands in a precise, practiced way and a window opened up in the middle of the room. No, not a window, but Roger was having a tough time wrapping his head around it. What this non-window showed was something that wasn’t the room, that wasn’t a view of the street, that wasn’t anyplace in New York, if he had to guess.

“You can’t just do it like that,” Wong said wearily. Roger felt himself and his students look from one of the men to the other as though watching a tennis match. “There should be a little more finesse.”

“Look,” the Sorcerer told him. “You don’t get to spring this on me and then expect me to ham it up for the kids. This isn’t a David Blaine show.”

“Maybe you should watch one. You might learn something about showmanship.”

“So, it’s fake, right?” Flash checked.

Dammit, Roger had dropped his hand, distracted as he tried to make out what he was seeing through what he was becoming increasingly comfortable with calling a ‘magic portal’ in his thoughts. He scrambled to take hold of Flash’s shoulder—yanking him back would be bad, but dealing with the fallout of him pissing off somebody who could make magic portals would be much worse—but Flash dodged him, swaggering forward to inspect the Sorcerer’s work.

“What is it? Mirrors? Greenscreen? You buy your tech from Stark?”

“Stark?” the Sorcerer spat out derisively.

Overcome with the terrible feeling that he was about to find out what it looked like when a wizard put a curse on a child, Roger sprang forward. As he did, three things happened: the Sorcerer rotated his wrist slightly, the scene on the other side of the portal changed, and Flash turned to the side.

Without a student to grab onto and pull to safety, Roger’s momentum sent him hurtling through the gateway currently connecting Midtown to parts unknown.

Of all the times to trip, he thought.

—

The world was bright and fast and bad. Actually, Roger was almost positive that what he was seeing wasn’t the world at all, but he couldn’t put a name to where he was any more than he could think of better adjectives to describe it. Unless the Sorcerer Supreme owned a magical slip ’n’ slide that operated at speeds designed to train prospective astronauts for space travel, Roger was no longer in his building.

The colour of the tunnel of light surrounding him turned from something like the intestinal track of a unicorn who ate lightning and nebulas to a dangerous, broiling red. Roger kept waiting for his skin to bubble, his face to melt off. Maybe he was the fabled frog in the pot of boiling water and had failed to notice the heat steadily increasing. Because he didn’t feel hot. He couldn’t tell whether or not he felt cold either and before he could work it out, he finally landed.

It was rough.

He curled his arms up around his head, protecting his face. He hit and tumbled, hit and tumbled, banging his shins and elbows, setting off a series of metallic clangs and thwumps like his body was playing drums made of the contents of somebody’s recycling bin. Roger could see—once, shaking, he was able to lower his arms and open his eyes—that his imagination hadn’t been far from the mark: he was lying in a heap of trash.

Trembling like a baby deer, he got to his feet and assessed his surroundings. There were piles everywhere. Piles of stuff. Roger could identify some of the battered objects, but most were utterly alien to him. This was like the time he’d found his wife’s sex toys all over again.

“Hello?” he called out, because he seemed to be alone. “Hel—”

His throat closed off abruptly when he swiveled in place and noticed the sky. His mouth fell open. Was that what he had just come through? That furious-looking, billowing, volcanic, enormous… disturbance? Weather pattern? Entrance to hell, if hell were a mountain of trash?

Oh man. Where was Spider-Man this time? Roger didn’t know which would come first, but if something distinctly reassuring didn’t happen in the next 30 seconds, he was going to either burst into tears or pee his pants. His cool wife was going to be so bummed to have to declare him dead instead of faking her own death. And his students would be traumatized, having just witnessed their teacher disappear before their eyes. He spent a frantic 17 of his 30 seconds wondering if this were Jumanji and he’d started a game without realizing it; being sucked into a board game was another of his greatest fears, ever since he’d watched the chilling horror film Jumanji in his teens.

“Hello?” Roger croaked a final time.

Some other scientist—a Tony Stark type—would thrive in this scenario, Roger knew. They would scavenge the surrounding mounds of metal, collecting and assembling pieces into some sort of technology that would either get them home or enable communication with a rescue team. Would there be a rescue team for Roger Harrington? Would anyone even try to get him back?

The cry/pee conundrum was looking more like cry with each passing second until suddenly, amongst the broken things Roger was aggrieved to consider the lone sentinels of his demise, some kind of spacecraft touched down. Based on his recent luck, whoever was at the helm was likely here to kill him, but he immediately elected to throw himself on their mercy, whether that meant rescue or just a swifter snuffing out of his life than he would otherwise experience on this sad island of garbage as he died from dehydration, starvation, and exposure to that infernal gateway in the sky.

He mouthed the word “help” more than said it as he staggered forward on legs he could hardly feel. A door in the side of the spacecraft slid smoothly open and party music blared out. Roger flinched back as though he had not heard the sounds of civilization in years.

A woman exited the craft. She wore an expression about as kind as the murderous upside-down mushroom cloud in the sky and when their eyes met, she barked, “Back!”

Roger executed an awkward reverse lunge, pleading hands raised. Ok, now that his time had come, he didn’t want a quick death. Put out of his misery? No, he would learn to live with his misery, the way he’d learned to live with his college roommates, or his wife’s collection of handmade bowls! With food and water to sustain him, he was suddenly confident that he could be successfully miserable for years if this intimidating woman would just leave him to his own pathetic devices.

But then, like a visitation from a tan, eye-liner-wearing angel of indeterminate age, a man in gold robes emerged from the vessel. He beamed like he had always been beaming, and always would be.

Just like that, Roger Harrington got it. He got what Hot Chocolate meant when they sang that they believed in miracles. He got the meaning of Kylie Jenner’s year of realizing stuff. He got why a child would send out Valentine’s Day cards in May and why his wife was so dedicated to her hiking group and why he was here.

“Now, what did I say about that before we left?” the angel seemed to be asking his companion, though he’d locked his eyes on Roger. “Did I say to harass our visitor or did I say to be nice?”

The woman narrowed her eyes at Roger, which he felt more than saw; it was possible that he was crying after all. Tears of joy.

“Harass,” she answered flatly.

The angel chuckled.

“You know, I do like having you around. Before you, I said to myself, ‘Next time, get an enforcer with a sense of humour.’” He sighed as his laughter dwindled. “But you can, uh, skedaddle back onto the ship now. That’ll be all.”

“What if you want to melt him?” she queried.

That was enough to tear Roger’s gaze away from the man and send it zipping nervously to the threatening almost-smile the woman was now directing his way. He’d preferred the murder face.

“Melt him!” the angel said, in a tone that implied her suggestion had been ridiculous. (Roger relaxed. A little.) “Topaz, don’t you realize who this is? Don’t you know?”

She shrugged.

“Trash.”

“No, he’s not trash! Do you think I would’ve left the Grand Arena to retrieve a new gladiator by hand? All those Scrappers don’t do my bidding just so I can dig through the garbage looking for fresh challengers for my champion! I wouldn’t even assign Scrapper 142 this task, and you know she’s my favourite!”

When the woman only grumbled, the man pressed, “You have an unbelievable poker face. Do you really not know why I flew all the way out here for this guy?”

“I’m his soulmate,” Roger blurted, because that was the one thing he did know.

He had no idea what a Scrapper was, or whether the man in front of him was more or less important than the ‘champion’ he’d mentioned, or how his homicidal sidekick planned to melt Roger, but he understood what was happening here. Forget the Love Wave—what had come for him had yanked him violently across solar systems, maybe galaxies. He’d been sucked under by the Love Riptide.

The angel pointed at him and proudly proclaimed, “Correctamundo!”

Then he strode forward and folded Roger into a hug. Roger thought this must be what it was like to be a piece of antique furniture, tenderly wrapped in gold leaf.

“I’m the Grandmaster,” he said.

“Roger Harrington,” Roger offered, feeling that his life was entirely surreal as he cautiously returned the hug.

“As soon as I felt you land on my humble little planet here, I came looking. My orgy guests were disappointed, naturally, but I had to put my interests first. What was I, elected? If they wanted a leader who would pretend to care about everyone equally, they should have organized themselves into a viable political party capable of rivalling my dictatorship, am I right?” He drew back slightly and laughed. “You should see your face! I’m kidding. I would’ve had anyone involved in such a thing put to death. Don’t you worry, Hairball.”

Roger cleared his throat. He’d learned so much in the last few sentences alone. Death. Dictator. Orgy. Any one of those things was a lot to confront and yet… he was calmed by the Grandmaster’s presence. He was alive and unmelted. He’d managed to find his soulmate—a man he’d been almost certain to never meet as things stood with Earth’s individually-impressive but cosmically-insignificant progress with space travel. At long last, the universe had smiled on Roger Harrington.

“Just Roger is good,” he said. If last names ever came up again, he would tactfully correct his soulmate, but with a name like ‘the Grandmaster,’ he doubted they ever would.

“Roger. Anything you say.” Gripping Roger’s shoulders, the Grandmaster leaned in and planted a sound kiss on his forehead with a loud, “Mmmwah!”

He asked Roger if he would like to go aboard his ship, apologizing that it wasn’t the one where he’d just been having the orgy and appearing to check Roger’s face for disappointment. Roger didn’t know what the Grandmaster saw in his expression, but he knew it wasn’t that.

Inside the spaceship, Roger looked around with huge eyes. He hadn’t felt this kind of wonder in a room jammed with so much beyond his understanding since the first time his mom had taken him to the New York Hall of Science as a kid. Everything was bright and white and immaculately clean, and Roger could concentrate on all of it because the Grandmaster had Topaz drop the volume of his party playlist until it was just a low pulse of background noise. Seemingly amused by his awe, the Grandmaster allowed him a peek at the controls before gently herding him into a chamber with seating arranged for socializing. A pneumatic hiss sealed them safely inside and away from the woman’s scowl.

“I really just wanna sit here and, uh, just look atcha, but that look on your face tells me you’ve got about a million questions.”

The Grandmaster settled back into the bench seating, resting his long arms along the top of the seat. Across from him, Roger fidgeted, experiencing sensory overload. Soulmate. Spaceship. Alien planet. He found it hard to decide what to ask first. Was that even polite? Was the Grandmaster just saying that Roger could ask questions when he really wanted Roger to say or do something else? There was an awfully flirtatious look in his eye, the likes of which Roger hadn’t seen directed towards himself in several years.

“What is this place?” Roger asked before he could stop himself. “Where am I?”

“Oh! This is Sakaar! Are you saying you didn’t come here on purpose? I figured you weren’t aiming for a pile of trash, but you really didn’t know where you were going at all?”

Roger shook his head so hard that he had to nudge his slipping glasses back up his nose.

“It was an accident. I fell through a wizard’s—uh, I mean, a sorcerer’s—magic portal. That kind of clumsiness must sound pretty farfetched to someone who’s so obviously…” Roger motioned spastically towards his soulmate, the dictator, with both hands. “…in control of their life.”

The Grandmaster laughed, transparently pleased and preening.

“Oh, Roger, you flatter me.”

He stretched out his leg to playfully tap his shoe (gold) against Roger’s (plain, brown, frayed shoelace). Roger jumped, giddy from an alteration in sea level, possibly, plus life-changing events.

“But it really isn’t so uncommon for people, beings, things… to end up here without meaning to,” the Grandmaster went on. “A lot of junk passes through the Anus. Not that you’re junk, obviously.”

With a winning smile, Roger’s soulmate leaned forward and patted him on the knee. He was a touchy-feely guy, it seemed, and it made Roger cognizant of how very lonely he’d been in his marriage, in the last year especially. How skittish around strangers, how unaffectionate with his friends. This was what he needed, and the universe had understood that.

It took his brain a few seconds to catch up with what his soulmate had said, distracted by the comfort he was taking in his easy warmth.

“The Anus?” Roger asked in a choked voice.

“The Devil’s Anus, to be exact. That enormous, horrifying wormhole out there in the sky!” the Grandmaster explained, gleeful. “Best I can guess, it acts as a funnel for accidental travelers, like yourself. And boy, are we ever grateful for that thing. I’ve never had to post any ‘Help Wanted’ flyers, I’ll tell ya that. We need more people serving drinks? Boom. More entertainers? Boom. More lubricators for the orgies? Boom, the Anus provides, baby.”

Roger didn’t inquire what the duties of a person with the job title ‘orgy lubricator’ entailed; it seemed sleazily self-explanatory. He just nodded.

“And now,” his perfect, golden match continued, “the portal brings me my soulmate. I love that thing. It’s really somethin’, huh?”

“It’s really something,” Roger agreed. “Really, really something.”

“You’re looking just a little stunned there, Rodge. Can I offer you something to eat? A drink? I promise, I’m usually a much better host. I feel like I’m positively, uh, bumbling right now.” He beamed.

This man was so many things at once—possibly too many—but bumbling was so far from being one of them that Roger actually laughed weaky in his state of happy, semi-delirium. He accepted the cold glass that was pressed into his hand, the brush of the Grandmaster’s warm palm across his forehead. He had moved to sit right next to Roger.

“You can get used to this place at your own pace, within reason.” His soulmate chuckled. “Heck, we can stay right here a day or two. My plans are cancelled, and when I stop, the world stops. That’s how it is, being the Grandmaster, and that’s how it’s gonna be for you too. You can give all your worries a big, wet kiss goodbye, my love. You’re living a life of luxury now. A court of sycophants, fights to the death in the evening, orgies on a lazy afternoon. I’m talkin’ a life of pure class—”

“Class!”

“Yeah, baby, that’s what I said.” The Grandmaster was wearing a languid smile as he traced the back of his fingers along Roger’s jaw.

But Roger was suddenly too alert to be lulled by welcome caresses and delicious, exotic beverages.

“I was teaching a class before I fell through the portal,” he said. “I’m a teacher. My students are probably terrified. Some of them might be messed up for life after watching me disappear right in front of them. What have I done…”

“So you gave them a cool story to tell their friends! You don’t need to think about that anymore. Now that you’re living here—”

“I can’t live here!” Roger said, seizing the Grandmaster’s hands in his as he tried desperately to explain. “I have responsibilities as an educator! Jesus Christ, I’m married!”

“Roger. Rodge. Rodge. Hey,” his soulmate said, finally disrupting Roger’s spiral of panic. “That’s all in the past. Do you know how many creatures from just, uh, every darn corner of the universe I’ve made slaughter each other for my entertainment? Thousands, Roger, ok? Thousands. And it’s taught me oodles about life. What I’ve learned is that love is the only thing that matters. What all of those poor bastards scream for in the end is their mom, their partner, their best friend. Now, that doesn’t help them, but it helps us. It helps us understand that we’ve done it—we’ve achieved the one thing in our lives that was worth a damn to achieve. I’m not gonna, gonna now be parted from you, sweetheart. You are the point of me.”

Roger felt himself growing teary at the speech. Yes, this had been a whirlwind—they’d met no more than 15 minutes ago—but he was feeling something just as deep as the love the Grandmaster described. It was a fantasy in the best way, the life his soulmate pictured for them (most of it… maybe not the part about slaughter). But it was a fantasy in the worst way too, something so impossible that Roger felt sick for getting as attached to this man as he already had.

“I can’t,” he said softly. He let his head hang down, solaced when the Grandmaster guided it onto his shoulder and wrapped a protective arm around him.

“Can’t you? For me? Roger, if I put you on a ship and send you back through the Anus, we may never meet again.”

Roger squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to be selfish, but there were people he couldn’t leave in the lurch. People who maybe didn’t care about him in a way that was equal to how he cared about them, but that was how any kind of relationship was, apart from soulmates. There were imbalances. He knew he might not be the most brilliant scientist, the most inspirational teacher, the husband a woman would prefer over the outdoorsy hunk in her hiking group, but he knew who he was: he was someone who couldn’t just walk away.

“We’ll be together again,” Roger said, clutching the Grandmaster’s robes. “After.”

Though he didn’t yet know what ‘after’ would mean.

—

It wasn’t as unexpected as it could have been—Roger had always had a feeling he’d die on a school bus.

The difference between his fears and reality was that he wasn’t departing this world in a fiery crash or zooming out of control between the steel trusses and into the East River. There was confusion, there was chaos, there were screams and the violent honking of horns, but there were elements he couldn’t have predicted. Primarily, the giant alien spacecraft hovering over the city. The ship immediately moved into first place of the most ominous rings in his life (he and his wife were not in a good place). Since its sighting, things had quickly spiraled out of control. Julius had radioed Roger from the other bus of students they were chaperoning to MoMA to report that Ned Leeds had ‘flipped his shit’ and Peter Parker was currently missing. Roger had nearly passed out. The only thing that had kept him conscious was his jittery concern for the rest of his students.

At Midtown Tech, they had drills for almost every eventuality. As of 2012, hostile outer space invasion was actually part of their repertoire, but it had always been assumed they would be at school when it happened, not out on a field trip. The most Roger had been able to think to do was get the kids to a secure location. Which meant getting the buses to a secure location. But the buses were on the bridge, and all over the bridge drivers were panicking, mindlessly stomping on the gas and attempting to swerve around the rest of the vehicles. Above the blood rushing in his ears, he’d heard crash after crash, until their bus was hemmed in and, through the smoking, crumpled hoods of their fellow commuters, the alien ship hung stationary in the sky. Disturbingly tranquil as New York City went to pieces to the tune of apocalyptic dissonance just below.

In the end, the spaceship hadn’t stayed put, but Roger had. The lanes around them were crowded with smashed cars. Glass from shattered windshields glittered on the pavement. Still, more vehicles surged forward as drivers attempted to use the bridge to flee the city; this wasn’t NYC’s first alien rodeo. He hadn’t attempted to force any of his students to remain on the bus—they were some of the smartest and the best of their generation, and he trusted their survival instincts far more than his own—but he did direct the ones who fled to first climb up onto the roof of the bus instead of dropping directly down onto the street and risking injury. Yes, he worried about minor cuts and bruises. Even now.

He thought that Flash was staying with him, and was touched. But then he realized Flash was just gripping his shoulder for leverage as he jumped and grabbed for the emergency roof hatch with his free hand. Roger knew the boy was somewhat neglected by his parents, and so, for the first time, he was happy go hear ‘Hotline Bling.’ It was Flash’s ringtone and it played incessantly as his phone rang and rang until the song, and the sound of Flash running, faded into the distance. Somebody wanted to see that he was safe. Somebody cared about him.

Alone, Roger hunkered down between the seats, knees bent in front of him. He scraped one hand anxiously through his hair and gripped his phone in the other.

He should call his wife. He knew he should. Only, he was afraid that she either wouldn’t pick up or she’d answer and be with the guy from her hiking group. Roger wasn’t even upset; he was glad she had someone, if this was it.

Ever since he’d returned from Sakaar, he’d been different, he was aware that he had. In the past, his wife had been largely responsible for the sundering of their marriage, but Roger knew that he was now pulling away too. It had begun inside him—the tear. He wanted to be with two people for two different reasons. In two places, on two worlds. Commitment clashed with longing. Logical rightness fought emotional rightness. He’d been weak, persuading himself daily to tough it out with his wife (even as he slept on the couch every night because lying beside her made him unhappy), when, for once in his damn life, he wanted to be fulfilled. Somewhere out in the stars, there was a man with blue eyeliner and an entire planet at his capricious command and he was the person for Roger.

If only, he thought, picturing the face he shouldn’t have been able to recall so clearly for the brevity of their encounter months ago. Roger shut his eyes to better remember the Grandmaster, and so he wouldn’t have to see his phone clatter to the bus’s dirty floor when the hand that held it turned to dust.

—

As with his life on regular, non-apocalypse days, not much happened to Roger. Despite his paralyzing breakdown on a school bus, he wasn’t among the billions scattered to the wind like sentient dandruff. He picked himself up and went home. Sure, he was shivering almost out of his skin from the shock, but he didn’t collapse into wracking, snotty sobs until he was safely in his living room, listening to his neighbours’ wails through the condo’s walls.

Roger’s wife wasn’t there, didn’t answer when he called her, and, three weeks later, still hadn’t made contact. It took another two months to hold her wake; the funeral business was booming. Never had so many words been spoken over so many vacant graves. Some members of his wife’s hiking group attended, some had even helped him select the right music and flowers beforehand. They knew her preferences. It felt surreal to be burying a person he couldn’t prove—in any meaningful way—that he’d really known.

With a queasy sense of being very lucky, he accepted that, apart from his marital status, his life hadn’t been upended. His windows weren’t broken, his car wasn’t stolen, the few family members he was out of touch with anyway had also survived. He went back to work before anybody called him in. There weren’t any students at first, just the echo of Roger’s clumsy footsteps tripping over the rug in the staffroom, half-solved equations on the whiteboards in the math classrooms, and the unholy stench of unwashed pinnies when he poked his head into the gym storage room to see if Coach Wilson was around. One day, Roger tipped back in the chair at the front of his own empty classroom and spotted a gigantic cobweb in the corner of the ceiling. It made him think of Spider-Man. He guessed that guy was gone too.

The most important thing for keeping sane was establishing a regimen. Work was a big part of that, but Roger also traveled daily into Manhattan to visit the Sorcerer’s place. It became a kind of pilgrimage. Early on, Wong would come out to say hello, but it was eventually less about commiseration and more of a perfunctory thing. Roger knew (assumed, hoped) that if the Sorcerer ever did return, Wong would let him know and welcome him inside. And then… a portal? And then the Grandmaster? He tried not to think about it too hard. Yearning took up a lot of energy and, when his students began to come back to school in distressingly low numbers, Roger needed to reserve that energy for teaching.

Everything was the same, every day, until it wasn’t.

For a reason he couldn’t rationally explain, Roger knocked on the Sorcerer’s door. While he was waiting—just a few seconds, he planned—a man materialized on the sidewalk right next to him. He tottered and Roger reflexively said, “Whoa!” and grabbed his shoulder to keep him on his feet. Before Roger could hypothesize or ask the man any questions, a teenage girl returned to existence a few feet away. Then a woman holding a toddler tightly in her arms. A little boy. A man with a dog. A bicycle-less bike cop, still wearing his helmet. Releasing the man, Roger spun and pounded against the door with his fist.

Still, no one answered.

Fighting the urge to show up at Midtown Tech, Roger made himself stay put, right there on the Sorcerer’s doorstep.

He waited a long time. As the sun set, New York City rose around him. He watched people hugging, running home down the middle of the street. He fielded unfinished questions as the newly returned began to ask him what had happened, what time it was, what year, before jogging away, more purposeful with every step they took. Roger’s foot began to bounce on the sidewalk and his clammy hands twisted fretfully. It was still another 12 hours before the door opened.

Roger fell backwards into Wong’s shins, delirious from the sickening seesaw between urgency and exhaustion. Everywhere, people were reconnecting. He scrambled to his feet because he wanted to be one of them.

“Is he here?” Roger demanded.

Wong narrowed his eyes slightly, holding the door so it couldn’t be pushed open further.

“Might I remind you that it’s me you’ve been seeing here the last five years.”

“Yeah,” Roger agreed, trying to see past.

“I thought we had developed a rapport.”

Finally, Roger met Wong’s eyes, his own pleading.

“No, yes, you’re right, we have,” he babbled.

“We’re friends.”

“Yes, of course, we are friends. Definitely.”

“So when is my birthday?”

Roger’s mouth hung open as he searched his brain for a piece of information he knew wasn’t in there. A few seconds later, Wong turned mirthful.

“Did you spend the Blip hiding under a rock where there are no jokes? Come inside. We just got back.”

None of the thousands of times he’d come to the door mattered—Roger hadn’t been inside the Sanctum since that first time. He hoped the Sorcerer remembered him.

When he saw the man, Roger’s steps stuttered. The Sorcerer appeared grim and wiped out. He was dirty and he looked older, though Wong whispered to Roger that the Sorcerer had been among the Snapped. Roger understood that, for something to go right and bring everyone back to life, something else had gone wrong. He could dwell on that and awkwardly bow his way back out of there, or he could convince himself that things had gone wrong for him too, and that he’d like them to be righted. He remembered that his soulmate was a dictator and tried to channel that sense of entitlement.

“What do you know about the Anus?”

The Sorcerer blinked.

“What.” The word came out perfectly flat.

“The Anus.”

“I wasn’t that kind of doctor.”

Roger strode eagerly towards him, hands gesturing before his words caught up.

“When I was here about, um, five and a half years ago, I fell through your magic portal—”

The Sorcerer snapped his fingers in recognition and turned to Wong.

“Oh, that’s who this is. I always wondered what happened to that guy.” He looked at Roger again. “How did you get back to Earth?”

Roger hadn’t been prepared to answer this question, just make his demands, and he began to explain what had happened to him, all out of order. The words ‘orgy ship’ had barely left his mouth when the Sorcerer was waving him into silence. His expression told Roger he was sorry he’d asked.

“So you went through the portal…” he prompted instead.

“That’s right! And for a while, I was just falling. I don’t know where I was.”

The Sorcerer stroked his chin.

“The connection must’ve been unstable. I know—one of your students distracted me.”

“That’d be Flash,” Roger said.

“Jesus. This is why I prefer not to be a field trip destination. Normally, the portal would allow you to pass cleanly through one place and into another.”

“And instead he passed cleanly through the Anus,” Wong summarized.

“…Yeah.”

Roger glanced from one man to the other.

“So,” he said, “could you do it again?”

The Sorcerer stared at him.

“The short answer is no. The long answer is also no, but it contains a great deal of vernacular to do with the Mystic Arts, so I’ll save us both some time.”

The last time Roger had defended his intellect and qualifications had been years ago, and he was out of practice. Anyway, he didn’t want a lengthy debate.

“Can’t you just open a portal and shove me through?”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’ve got a lot going on today. I’ve only entertained you this long because you and Wong seem to be friends. I’m not just going to mess around to humour you.”

“What if you had to do it?” Roger asked quickly, beginning to feel desperate and preparing to metaphorically jam one of his clumsy feet into the closing window of opportunity.

“Uh, let me think about that,” the Sorcerer droned disinterestedly. “No.”

“What if I attacked you and you opened a portal in self-defence?”

The Sorcerer squinted at him in disbelief and befuddlement.

“What?”

But Roger was already gracelessly throwing his weight into a wild, uncoordinated punch.

For once, he didn’t think critically of himself; he told himself that the Sorcerer’s portal sparked up between them because he was intimidated by Roger’s tenacity. And that it didn’t show a clear destination because the Sorcerer’s reaction speed was no match for Roger using the element of surprise. And that he dove purposely through the portal—on a mission for love and science and the unknown—instead of tumbling into it sideways because the momentum of his unpracticed punch had gotten the better of his balance. It didn’t matter. His feet went out from under him and he was on his way.

Roger had forgotten how intense the trip was, but he completely recalled the rough landing, bouncing down through a stack of the universe’s lost garbage. He shut his eyes to the whooshing and the brightness and braced himself (probably too early, but he didn’t think he could be too careful on this reckless endeavor).

He felt his body hit open air and gasped as he fell, trying to keep his limbs tucked in. The hat he’d been wearing was torn from his head. Didn’t matter; it wouldn’t have offered much protection anyway. At any moment, his poor elbows and knees would be battered by space junk. Between his velocity and his fear of the coming impact, Roger could hardly breathe.

Music. A familiar voice singing, It’s my soulmate! made his eyes fly open. Right in time to land on his back. Whatever was beneath Roger was soft, but he’d still had the wind knocked out of him and was struggling to fill his lungs. His eyes clamped shut as he began to cough.

“I have no idea how you survived that thing twice, but I sure am glad I caught ya.”

Finally sucking in a stronger breath, Roger opened his eyes and looked up. His glasses were askew. Above him was the opening in the ceiling of a hovering spacecraft, but closer than that, leaning over him, was the face of the Grandmaster. He was beaming.

“Any trouble with the Anus?” he asked.

Roger grabbed for the hand his soulmate had rested on his shoulder and moved it to his chest, right over his heart.

“The asshole who got me here will probably be thrilled to never see me again, but the Anus treated me just fine.”

“Ha!” the Grandmaster barked. His free hand lovingly patted Roger’s windblown hair back into place. “Welcome home.”

#my writing #MCU #spider-man #thor: ragnarok #Roger Harrington #En Dwi Gast (the Grandmaster) #their ship name is Mr. Master and they're what G deserves on her birthday

[cockasinthebird]

ahhh grats on the milestone!! also holy shit youve got 500 prompts stored away somewhere??? im gonna go with my favourite number combo..... 317 👀 im super excited to see what you come up with!! 💖 -bbsitterpng

@babysitterpng  Thank you so much!!! And yes, 500 goddamn prompts, all carefully curated, only the best for my beloved mutuals and followers!!

I got SO ELATED when I saw that you sent me a mystery prompt request!!!! ❤️💕 I would have finished it yesterday, but I got uhhh distracted 😏😏😏

317. “I think you’ll be happy to know I’m not wearing any underwear.”

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again and again and again; I knew exactly what I wanted to write for this immediately, and while I worry the exposition seems too rushed, I am very satisfied with the rest, all near 4k words!

So please, enjoy~

-

Today has been a long day that started when the sun had barely found its place in the sky.

Neil was beating at his bedroom door, asking why it’s locked, threatening to kick it down, demanding that Billy get up right now to mow the lawn, just to complain about what a shitty job he did after, shouting about how he has to do everything himself.

Billy would beat his pillows, lift weights till his muscles hurt, and smoke like a chimney, all to alleviate stress in one way or another.

At 12 Max was leaving to go play DnD with her little loser friends, ready to skate her way over there, but Billy needed to get out of the house, have a valid excuse, and it doesn’t get better than “watching out for his little sister.”

They’re on good terms now, after they had gotten in an intense fight and she screamed at him to just leave her and her friends alone, and after not spending every waking hour hating and antagonizing her, she’s not as annoying anymore, and Billy thinks that perhaps his anger was the issue here, not her being a little shit.

That realisation helped him a lot in general. It’s around that time he “apologised” to Harrington the best he could, but when Steve was nice and understanding of his issues, it only made him angry again. Billy doesn’t believe he deserves to be forgiven so easily, no, Harrington should have hit him, defended himself, gotten pissed and told Billy to fuck off.

Instead they wound up at Benny’s diner, sharing a giant plate of fries and a milkshake each.

“My treat,” Steve insisted.

And that’s when old issues resurfaced; the same exact issues that meant they had to leave California. The same exact issues that brought Billy’s wrath upon this pretty boy. The same exact issues that led one thing to another, and now Billy knows the route from his house to the Harrington Mansion like the back of his hand; could drive it with his eyes closed now.

But he doesn’t want to seem needy or clingy. Doesn’t want to be what he is - the way he is.

So after dropping Max off at the Wheeler’s house, the fiery redhead even going as far as to offer him a bit of a smile, he didn’t go home. Didn’t drive to Steve’s house either no matter how much he wanted to.

Don’t be needy, don’t be clingy. You’ll see him later.

So for four hours he drove around town, smoked by the quarry, got admired at a gas station when he refilled, passed Steve’s street far too many times, went to the empty pool that’s closed for the year and sat with his feet over the edge and smoked some more, restlessly kicking the tiling. Over the course of this time he checked his watch at least a billion times.

When it was finally 4pm, he drove to pick up his sister and El - the gang having managed to convince both Steve and Billy to take them to the movies to watch the last screening of The Neverending Story, which doesn’t exactly sound like something he wants to watch, but knowing Steve will be there, he agreed all too readily.

And as he pulls back up to the Wheeler’s again, he sees the brown BMW, Steve leaning against the door as he waits for the boys to pile into his car. Billy’s heart is beating like a painful drum in his aching chest, and when Steve sees him sitting and waiting for the girls, he smiles at him and waves.

Billy is as always astounded and breathless by the way Steve smiles, the way Steve looks at him now, like he’s happy to see him. He can’t smile back, he wants to, but his face feels dull and incapacitated. He wants to just kick open his car door, stomp up to Steve and fucking kiss him. Instead he simply waves back.

Then Max breaks the trance as she pulls open the door and crawls in to sit in the back with El.

“What the hell took you guys so long, I’m starving,” Billy complains as he looks over his shoulder at them.

Max is smart and doesn’t answer, and Billy is smart and doesn’t ask again. No he remains quiet as they follow the beemer, Max and El laughing loud and joyous behind him like girls their age do, talking about shit he doesn’t care for, just focuses on the car in front as they drive to Benny’s diner for early dinner before going to wolf down popcorn at the cinema.

-

The gang is eager and excited, like kids should be, running to the diner as they talk all too frantically about whatever it is kids talk about, Billy is really not paying attention, when Steve is right there.

“Find a booth where we can all sit!” Steve shouts after them, and Billy’s not sure if they heard him at all. “Hey Hargrove, got a smoke?” his voice kinder and friendly, too friendly, as he addresses Billy.

Steve leans against the hood of the camaro, smiling all too wide. He’s dressed in high waisted jeans and a red crop top that shows just enough of a midriff for it to be too much for Billy.

He takes up a spot next to Steve, just far away enough for it to not be suspicious, but absolutely too far away for it to not be enough, yet even from here he can smell the floral soap and honey shampoo. Can’t help but think of how soft Steve’s skin is, how silky his hair is, all newly washed and clean of him. Wonders if the purple hickeys are still visible across his chest, up his thighs.

Even though Steve is trying his best to meet Billy’s gaze, he refuses to look at him just in case it would be too obvious what he’s thinking about, as he unwraps a fresh pack of Marlboro and offers one up.

When Billy ignites his lighter and reaches forth, Steve touches his hand, holds it steady as he leans in to bring his cigarette to the flame. There’s a burning sensation where his pale, soft hand connects them, and when Steve dares rub Billy’s wrist with his fingers, there’s a pain shooting through his heart, a sharp wanting for more. No, a need for more. He’s caught staring at those pretty, pink lips when Steve pulls away and exhales a cloud.

“What’s wrong?” he asks with a wry smile, clearly aware.

“You know damn well ‘what’s wrong’,” Billy snaps a bit harsher than intended as he continues to force himself to look away.

Thankfully Steve takes it well and huffs a laugh filled with smoke.

They end up in silence after that; the comfortable kind that comes from being at peace together, easy and relaxed and pleasant, one where they don’t need words because there’s no longer any doubt between them. Perhaps that’s what love is, as cheesy and gross as that may be, Billy ponders. To be able to just exist together without it being awkward or stilted. Perhaps he’s fallen a bit in love with his ex-rival. Or perhaps he’s just in love with how he feels when he’s with Steve, both physical and not.

It isn’t till Steve finishes his cigarette, drops it on the asphalt and stomps it out, that he speaks,

“Oh, I almost forgot, I wanted to tell you something.” He’s smiling like the cat that got the cream, licking his lips a bit too slowly as he goes to whisper in Billy’s ear, “I think you’ll be happy to know I’m not wearing any underwear.”

Billy’s heart skips several beats at that, before then going too fast - rapidly pumping blood through him, and there’s a certain rush of it going straight to his dick. He stares too long into those deep, dark eyes, mischievous and satisfied with the response as Billy short circuits.

“What?”

Steve shrugs and tips his head to the side a bit, acting all innocent and oblivious, lips drawn tight in a smile that goes from ear to ear. He opens his mouth and takes a long inhale, insinuating that he’s about to say something, then simply turns around, hands in his pockets as he walks towards the diner.

Leaving Billy behind, baffled, astonished, dumbfounded.

-

The next two hours feels like days.

They sit in the diner, Billy and Steve across from one another.

The kids are still as energetic as before, their voices a jumble of words and phrases and retellings of DnD from today’s session. Steve chews on his straw as he tries to follow along with whatever they’re talking about, laughing when they laugh, nodding on occasions. Whenever he looks over at Billy, blue eyes flee to stare out the window instead, finding great interest in the pattern of how one street light flickers.

Before the movie starts, they go to let out water by the urinals of the cinema, Billy standing right next to Steve, having hoped to catch a glimpse, see if he’s telling the truth, the urge near irresistible to just take a quick look, but the other men around them might not take too kindly to something like that.

And during the movie they sit together at the end of the row.

Steve, Billy, Max, El, Mike, Will, Dustin, Lucas.

He didn’t care for the movie before, only going along as a sign of friendliness and to have an excuse to not be home, but now. Now he’s almost hating having to sit here, next to Steve, shoulders nearly touching, shoes pressed together on the dark floor, only an armrest between them.

For the first twenty arduous minutes, Steve doesn’t do anything, doesn’t say anything, showing no sign of registering how near they are, just watches the movie in silence with a smile, while Billy is sat next to him, burning up despite his shirt being unbuttoned as always, mind racing with thoughts and images of Steve Steve Steve.

So distracted by all of that, that he nearly jumps when Steve touches his hand. Same softness and tenderness from earlier on the parking lot, the way Steve always touches him with just a hint of hesitance when they’re not completely alone.

But the cinema is dark, the kids are entranced, and there’s barely a handful of people besides them, so maybe it’s safe enough.

Billy raises his fingers into the touch, thinking that Steve wants to hold hands, intertwine them, any of that stupid romantic shit that he loves and Billy pretends to only barely tolerate, but the touch moves past that, a feather across the back of his hand, up to gently and carefully grab him by the wrist.

At that, Billy finally looks down, keeps facing the big screen but pays acute attention to what Steve is doing, where he’s leading his hand, placing it on his knee, Billy’s fingers in between spread legs. He continues to guide the hand further up, towards the heat of where his thighs meet, effectively sending Billy’s heart rate sky high.

When he finally turns his head, he finds Steve staring right back, a small and restrained smile, and in that moment, Billy feels like he can read Steve’s thoughts, knows exactly what’s on his mind, never doubts it for a second, and is proved right when Steve stands up and climbs over the seat to walk along the empty row behind them.

Billy whips around to Max, and hisses out, “We’re going for a smoke, don’t fucking go anywhere.”

“Yeah yeah,” she groans all indifferent and waves him away, eyes big and caught in the movie.

-

The bathroom at the Hawk is as clean as it ever gets, and perhaps not too shockingly, empty. Movies are running and people are seated.

Steve stands looking at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair, not that it looks any different to Billy now than before.

He takes heavy steps towards the brunette, announcing himself and catches Steve’s eyes in the mirror, watching as Billy approaches and steps behind him. Billy leans in to run his nose up Steve’s neck, inhaling deeply and humming out pleasantly, blinking slowly as he keeps pressing his face into the crook there, not quite kissing yet.

Eyes dart back to the mirror where heavenly blue meets chocolate brown, a feverish intensity there as Steve stares back. Gently, but with no hesitation, Billy snakes his arms around Steve’s waist, past the belt and up to touch where skin shows between jeans and the top.

When there’s no ‘stop’, he keeps going, curls his fingers around the red fabric and lifts up, exposing Steve’s chest to the both of them in the mirror. Bitten and marked, purple and red, Billy eyes his masterwork with an appreciative gaze, and with one hand keeping the shirt away, he moves the other up to graze his fingers across each little bruise his lips left just two days ago.

Steve hums a bit, erotic and turned on, and if more were to happen now, it wouldn’t be the first time they’d found their way together in public. And perhaps that thought strikes Steve just as it does Billy, for he pushes back into him, rubbing his soft ass against where he finds a slight bulge already.

“Fuck, Stevie…” Billy huffs and breathes against Steve’s neck, eyes closed as he relishes in the slow friction, kissing sloppy and half-minded against pale skin. “You really wanna do this here? Where the kids could just walk in any moment?”

“I would have maybe pushed you into a stall first,” Steve laughs, a slight stutter to it. “But I was thinking your car? The movie is like two hours, we could find an alley, park there, let me ride your cock?”

A growl escapes by the enchantment of those words, and Billy bites into Steve’s neck, earning him an illicit little hiss and smirk.

“How am I supposed to say no when you put it like that?”

-

Neither of them feel particularly bad for just abandoning the gang like that, but they’ll be quick, hidden in this alleyway, not too far away from the theatre, a bit of fun while the others gawk and gape at the magic of movies.

But it’s hard to be remorseful, when Steve is moaning like this, Billy two fingers deep in him in the driver's seat of the camaro.

Steve didn't lie about going commando today; told Billy, “When I found out you were tagging along, I hoped I’d get to have you alone like this.”

It took Steve less than two seconds to start getting undressed when Billy turned off the engine, whereafter he crawled right onto his lap, hard and bottomless, knees over Billy’s shoulders, feet locked behind the headrest, back against the steering wheel. 

“Ah-h, mmh, fuck, Billy-” he whines, hands placed firm on Billy’s legs for support as he lifts and angles his ass to allow Billy access with lubed up fingers.

His other hand squeezes Steve’s leaking prick, using the precum to slick up the flesh, keeping him hard and crying like that. His own lonesome cock aches where it lies full against his stomach; the button down having been opened completely to avoid staining it, and giving Steve something to admire.

“Billy, please, just- oh- just fuck me already!” Steve’s voice pitched high with lust and impatience, brows drawn together, his arms shaking underneath his own weight.

“Just don’t wanna hurt you, baby,” Billy purrs.

He watches with great interest as he pumps two fingers in and out of Steve’s wet hole, making a scissoring motion to stretch him properly.

“Mmh, we don’t exactly have time for that, and I need you so bad,” Steve says with the sweetest, most alluring tone he can.

And God if that doesn’t go straight to Billy’s twitching dick.

“You sure?” He wants to double check anyways.

“Yes- yes! Just- get a condom, I don’t wanna ruin my favourite pants.”

Billy chuckles lightly at that thought as he leans to reach for the glovebox, absolutely turned on by the idea of Steve walking around brimming with him, his cum dripping out and running down his thighs. Perhaps another time.

The condom rolls on with ease, Billy having become quite the expert with one through time, but he has been getting a lot of practice lately what with Steve and his more adventurous side, and wearing a rubber when fucking in public makes for an easy and quick cleanup. He gives himself a few good strokes to lube up good and nice, ensuring that Steve gets a smooth ride as he aligns himself with the hole that flutters eagerly to suck him in.

Greedy, starved, zealous, Steve sits himself on that veiny dick, ass fully flush with Billy’s hips, breathlessly gasping and cursing around his name, “Fuck Billy…”

“Mmmh,” Billy hums and licks his lips, staring down with adoration at how he’s buried deep inside of Steve’s ass, tight with lack of preparation, but- “You feel so good baby, taking my cock so well.”

He brings his hands to grab Steve by the hips and guide him in a circular motion, muscles clenching around him that can only be described as beautiful, eliciting groans and causing him to dig in his nails.

Steve’s panting, bangs sticking to his forehead from sweat, the windows fogged up, telling anyone that would walk by exactly what was going on, and when he lifts up to fuck himself on Billy’s fat erection, they shake the entire car with his fervor; each time he sinks down he moans more; moans with less and less self control.

“Take off your shirt, pretty boy,” Billy drawls out and swipes his tongue across shiny and sharp teeth. “Wanna see you.”

It’s a hurried motion that takes less than three seconds for Steve to yank off the crop top and grab on to Billy’s knees again, refusing to wait even one moment in the haze of his neediness. 

Billy, however, faced with marks of his own making, takes time to appreciate how perfectly purple suits Steve’s pale skin, blooming across his pecs, his tits, near nipples that strut now, begging to be touched. And who is he not to oblige. Hands travel up from hips, past the waist, to Steve’s chest - the brunette seemingly lost in chasing his own high, that he doesn’t notice where Billy is going till he presses hard against the sensitive buds.

“A-ah! Fuck, Billy!” And he throws his head back.

Steve’s entire body tenses at that, each muscle flexing and twitching, contracting around Billy’s steely cock, and he can’t help himself but to thrust into the clenching hole, the rim taking a chokehold on the base of his prick. Steve has to bring up a hand against the roof of the car to keep himself from hitting his head, while also giving him the ideal leverage to push down hard, bodies colliding, skin slapping together in a lascivious and erotic rhythm.

“God, you’re such a little slut for my cock, huh baby?” Billy growls like a ravenous wolf as he pounds into Steve, forcing out every little cry and moan, telling him that he’s hitting just the right spot.

“Billy- Billy, ah-a, fuck- fuck-” Steve whimpers and looks down to watch one hand on his hip that pulls him down, another rubbing hard against his nipple. 

“Yeah, harrh, listen to yourself,” and Billy pauses to listen to how Steve mewls, revelling in the fact that he’s the cause of that. “So loud and lewd, baby, calling out my name like that.”

“Billy.”

He’s a confident guy, Keg King and lady killer, and while shit like emotions and feelings stuns him, this brings him alive, lust coiling in his gut, burning hot and white, ramping up to a fever pitch as he fucks with wild abandon into Steve’s wet cunt.

Billy hasn’t bothered masturbating in a good while, no, he saves all of that pent up energy for Steve, to fill him up; desire blinding him to anyone else but his princess.

“Mmhnn- ahh, fuck, Stevie, can’t wait to get you alone tonight,” he says, voice fucked out and perverted, Steve looking at him as he speaks, “Drop off all the little shits and then fuck you into your mattress till you’re a mess, pump you full of my cum.”

Steve’s eyes screws shut tight, mouth wide open as he moans, “Yes, oh God, Billy-”

“Yeah? You want that?”

“Yes! Please! Fuck-” He nods the best he can, hair bouncing.

“You’re such a good little whore for me, princess, so needy for my cock.”

“Billy- Billy please,” Steve croons, all pathetic and close.

“Anything,” Billy responds with fast devotion, a promise that he gladly lives up to, knowing well what it is Steve is begging for, wants to hear him say it anyways.

“Touch me, please, ah-h- I’m so so close, fuck…”

Billy grins wide, so self satisfied it’s nearly disgusting, and he closes his fingers firm around Steve’s slick erection; he gets so fucking wet, leaking profusely, swears it only happens when he’s with Billy like this.

“Just like that, yes! Oh fuck, I’m- ah-”

“Yeah, cum for me baby, wanna watch you- show me what I do to you.”

Billy jerks him off quick and crude, knows how Steve likes it, how he needs it; loves being manhandled, talks about that whenever he’s with Billy he feels small and light.

And Steve cums with a loud and unadulterated moan, stilling his entire body in a tense pose as Billy fucks him fast; slamming quickly against his prostate, hand milking him good till he’s emptied out on his own chest.

It is a glorious thing to watch, a masterpiece of performance only for him, a grand show for a one man audience that Billy gets to relive again and again and again. Steve’s jaw drops as he continues to cry out like he’s a goddamn porn star, overstimulated and loving it.

Billy’s own orgasm is far less showy; a few shallow, brutish thrusts, grunting through gritted teeth, he shoves Steve down onto him hard as his hips stutter through completion, waves of impossible heat pouring out and leaving him a puddle of bliss and euphoria.

Time is lost to them, as they sit like that; Steve’s one leg having fallen between the seats as he went limp with exhaustion, still firmly planted in Billy’s lap, who’s soft and complacent and fucking tired, both of them breathing heavy.

“We should… we should go back…” Steve mumbles with closed eyes.

Billy’s watching the way Steve’s cum slowly slips down his chest, running over his abs and nearing his pubic hair.

“Do we have to?” he eventually manages to ask.

And Steve chuckles at that, the vibrations through his body clenching around Billy’s spent cock and he can’t help the sore “ooh”s and “ahh”s as he tries to pull away from it.

“Sadly we do. Can’t have the kids walk home alone in the dark, besides…” Steve grinds his ass onto Billy’s lap, making him wince in not quite pain, not quite pleasure, but definitely too much. “Think you promised to… fuck me into my mattress?”

#Harringrove #My Writing #Lemon #Mystery Prompt #500 followers #Babysitterpng #hope it was as good for you as it was for me sweets #😌 #Anonymous

[jaskiers-sweetkiss]

Paper Rings - Part 1

Pairing: Carrie Wilson x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: none

PR Masterlist Masterlist

___

“Y/N!” A voice gasped excitedly, dainty hand clasping around your wrist as you made your way through the crowds of people in the town square.

The voice and the contact snapped you back to the present and you found yourself stumbling as you walked, nearly toppling into another person as you tumbled to the ground, your reflexes and the hand on your wrist doing nothing to prevent your fall. Instead, the owner of said hand fell with you, the two of you sprawled out on the cobblestone. The entire experience took you back to a similar day years ago, when you’d met the princess of your kingdom.

There wasn’t anything particularly interesting about the day you met the princess (though to be clear, you hadn’t known she was the princess at the time. You reckoned the whole thing would’ve gone a lot differently if you had). Really, it was just like any other Saturday— your family had set up your booth at the town market and the streets were bustling with your neighbors and the occasional nobility as they wandered from stall to stall.

You always spent your Saturdays at market. When you were younger you’d been a handful, running through the streets with the other kids from your town, only ever stopping when something sparkly caught your eye. Your mother always said she was grateful that you had such nice neighbors who would look out for you and return you to her care at the end of the day. Now that you’re older, you’re an asset to your family. Rather than running around for fun, now you’re the one bustling from booth to booth picking up anything your family requires for the week. While time has slowed you down some, your time running through the throngs of people as a child aids you well now as you bob and weave through the crowds with something akin to grace.

Except no amount of grace or experience could have prevented the tumble you took when a cloaked figure suddenly stumbled directly into your path. Usually quick on your feet you moved to skirt around them only to trip over the figure’s foot, sending you both onto the cobblestone. The figure’s cloak had fallen and when you turned to tell whoever had tripped you to watch where they were going you were met with that of a terrified girl who had to have been around your own age. You didn’t recognize her, which was odd as your town was fairly small and you didn’t get many outsiders. You brushed off your skepticism with the reminder that it was market day and the streets were chock-full of strangers. Still, you couldn’t ignore the entirely insecure look of the girl sprawled on the cobblestone next to you so rather than scold, you spared her the kindest smile you could muster as you pulled yourself up to your feet and offered her a hand. She thanked you quietly as she took your hand.

“First time at market?” You asked curiously, unable to help yourself before you blurted out the words.

“That easy to tell, huh?”

“Well, most of us are familiar with the crowds,” you chuckled. “Plus I don’t recognize you and I know basically all the regulars since I’ve been coming every Saturday since I was a baby.”

You realized you were oversharing but something about the girl made it easy. Besides, maybe you could make a friend or at least stop her from causing any more accidents in the street.

The girl seemed visibly relieved at your words, though you couldn’t quite figure out why.

“So, what’s your name stranger?” You asked.

“Oh, uhhh, Carrie.” “Nice to meet you, Carrie. I’m Y/N,” you stuck out your hand for a handshake. “I can help you navigate if you need?”

Carrie had readily accepted and you’d spent the rest of the day attached at the hip as you moved from stall to stall. Curiously, Carrie didn’t make many purchases but she was good company and you didn’t want to seem nosey so you didn’t mention anything about it.

The next weekend you didn’t see Carrie, nor the weekend after that and by the third, you were beginning to wonder if you’d ever see the girl again. However, all worries of such were vanished by the appearance of the cloaked girl by your side once more. After the third market day spent together, your mother invited Carrie to join your family for dinner. After that evening, Carrie began to show up even outside of market days just to spend time with you. A few months later, she finally revealed her true identity to you.

You were quite frankly mortified to learn that the girl you’d been spending so much time with (she’d sat at your family’s measly dinner table multiple times!) was, in fact, a princess, and not just any princess but Princess Caroline Wilson, the heir to your kingdom’s throne. She was a princess and you’d nearly scorned her when you first met and even worse, you’d teased and scolded her many times since.

Still, with time and much insistence from Carrie, you were able to move past her royal status and authority. With you, she was merely Carrie and that was how she liked it.

You huffed as you shoved Carrie off you, glowering at your best friend as she laid by your side

“Carrie! You can’t startle me like that!” You scolded, although there was no harshness or authority behind it.

“Sorry,” she giggled, “I just feel like I’ve been searching for you for hours, I couldn’t just let you slip away!”

You felt your cheeks heat up at her words and you ducked your head bashfully.

“Well, you found me,” you replied, intending the words to be bright and teasing but instead they came out shy and borderline breathless.

“And thank goodness for that!” If she thought anything of your tone she didn’t show it, responding just as chipper as before. “C’mon, I passed a booth of sparkly things when I was looking for you that I want to check out!”

You laughed at that, accepting Carrie’s outstretched hand as you moved to stand.

The crowds grumbled as they parted to go around you and you suddenly remembered where you were. You held onto Carrie’s hand, fighting off the blush that threatened to return to your face at the contact, and pulled her off to the side of the street.

“Oh, I saw your mom too!” Carrie spoke again, “She gave me a list of things she forgot to tell you to pick up.”

You bit your lip to suppress the laughter that bubbled in your chest at how appalled your mom would be if she had known she sent the princess to run an errand for her.

“Alright well we better get a move on then if you want time to look at shiny things,” you teased as you looked down at the list Carrie had handed you.

That was all the prompting she needed before taking off down the street, pulling you along by hand that was still entwined with hers.

You weren’t surprised when you and Carrie finished your shopping in record time. Carrie was nothing if not driven (a trait you knew would make her a good queen someday), especially when there was something she wanted on the line. You also weren’t surprised when, after you had purchased the last thing on your mom’s list, Carrie promptly pulled you through the crowds to the local jeweler’s stand.

“Good afternoon young ladies,” the jeweler greeted when you approached. “I haven’t seen the two of you in a few weeks now!”

“It has been quite some time, hasn’t it?” You mused while Carrie took in the array of metals and jewels.

You rarely stopped by his stall without Carrie as it was uncommon for you to have much spending money of your own and you didn’t have much use for jewelry in your lifestyle, your mom only had a few pieces herself, all gifts from your father. Carrie, however, was the exact opposite. She had more spending money than she knew what to do with and she certainly had plenty of occasions to wear all sorts of fine accessories so she always made a point of stopping when there was time. You found it peculiar when you really stopped to think about it. She was royalty, she had access to a whole kingdom of jewelry yet she always insisted on shopping in your little village. Your local jeweler was quite talented though, you supposed.

“Oh Y/N look at this one!” Carrie gasped, pointing out a necklace of gold adorned in some sort of pink gem that you didn’t know the name of.

“It’s certainly your style,” you mused with a soft smile.

As usual, when you visited the jeweler’s stand, you weren’t looking at the merchandise as much as you were watching Carrie, basking in the warm glow of her excited smile.

“You’re absolutely right, it must be a sign,” Carrie responded, indicating to the jeweler that she intended to purchase it before she continued to peruse the stand.

“Oh this is quite lovely,” she said softly, and you were startled slightly by her tone. Normally Carrie was quite loud and confident when it came to jewelry but now she spoke quietly and you were shocked to detect some insecurities in her voice and her facial expression.

When you looked down at the piece she was referring to, you found yourself even more confused. The necklace was much simpler than Carrie normally went for, a silver chain rather than Carrie’s signature gold with a simple star hanging from the center. With a jolt, you realized it was much more suited to your own simple style and your heart began to race as you noticed Carrie was now looking expectantly at you.

“Wh-why’re you looking at me like that Care?”

“Do you like it?” She answered with a question of her own and you frowned slightly, trying to figure out her game.

“It’s very pretty.” It really was. Although it was simple, the craftsmanship was still obvious in the delicate chain and perfectly shaped pendant. “But it’s not at all your style!” you laughed, trying to mask your confusion.

“Well, no, obviously not,” she agreed and you furrowed your brows. “But I thought it would be perfect for you.”

“Oh.”

“Would you wear it?”

“Care I don’t have enough allowance-”

“Y/N, would you wear it?” She asked, voice much firmer now, all trace of insecurity gone as she stared you down.

You opened your mouth but found you couldn’t force out any sound so you nodded meekly instead. Carrie turned back to the jeweler, you assumed to make her purchases but you heard none of it, too consumed in your own thoughts of your mother’s single necklace, a gift from your father back when they were dating. You knew Carrie didn’t intend the gift in that manner but you could stop your heart from racing regardless.

Purchases in hand, Carrie quickly pulled you off to the side, holding the necklace she had just purchased for you.

“May I?” She asked, that shy nervousness from earlier returning.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak as you spun around so she was behind you. With your permission, Carrie gently brushed aside your hair before draping the silver chain around your neck and fastening it.

“There,” she whispered when she had finished and you turned back to face her, head ducked down to hide your face which you were certain had caught fire with how hot they were burning.

Wordlessly Carrie reached forward, fingers slipping under your chin as she tilted your chin upwards to face her. You gulped nervously as you met her gaze, finding the open softness that you’d come to associate with the Princess when the two of you were alone.

“It looks lovely,” Carrie spoke, voice louder and more sure this time and you blinked, snapped out of whatever lovestruck trance you’d been in.

However, you were certain your cheeks grew hotter at the compliment and you found yourself instinctively reaching upwards to grasp the necklace, holding the delicate star between your fingers. It was something you knew you’d be doing often now whenever you wore it.

___

Hours later, after a filling dinner and the sun had set, you found yourself laying on the roof of your home side-by-side with Carrie. The two of you often did this, whenever Carrie was able to sneak away from the castle for this long.

The first time she’d stayed into the night you’d dragged her up to the roof to stare at the sky. It was a favorite pastime of yours, looking up at the stars although you knew nothing about them. Not long into your first evening of stargazing Carrie had begun to point out some of the constellations and you had begged her to teach you everything you knew. Your mother had never taught you astronomy in your lessons but the same couldn’t be said of the various tutors who oversaw Carrie’s education at the castle.

“Orion The Hunter,” Carrie pointed to the constellation depicting a man holding a bow and arrow. “He was my great great great great grandfather,” she explained, ticking off the ‘greats’ on her fingers.

You hummed in response, listening intently as Carrie pointed out another constellation, this one named after some distant uncle of hers who’d been an impressive general in his time.

“They’ll name a constellation after you one day,” you finally spoke a couple of explanations later.

Your eyes never left the sky, seeking out the collection of stars that would one day tell the story of the princess beside you though you could see her movement out of the corner of your eye. She sat up slightly at your words, propping herself up just enough to peer over at your face as if judging your sincerity.

“You really think so?” She whispered after a moment, apparently unable to find the answer in your facial expression.

It always surprised you, how vulnerable she let herself become when the two of you were alone. It was the polar opposite of her public facade, even when in disguise. Everywhere else she was the epitome of confidence and grace, the picture of a perfect princess and one day queen, but with you she could just be Carrie. You were beyond grateful that she chose to share this side of herself with you, of all people, though you wouldn’t dare to let yourself speculate as to why.

“Gods yeah, Care,” you whispered back, the soft hush of your voice clashing with the strong conviction in your tone. “You’re going to do such amazing things.”

You half expected her to argue like she sometimes did when she was particularly worried or self-doubting but she didn’t. Instead, the two of you lapsed into a comfortable silence, both of your eyes trained on the stars.

“Sometimes I think the stars are the only thing that make sense,” Carrie sighed eventually, the words so quiet you nearly missed them.

It was a loaded statement, one you couldn’t possibly begin to interpret on your own so you asked her.

Rather than respond right away, Carrie sat up fully, drawing her knees up to her chest.

“What if we ran away together?” She blurted suddenly, catching you off guard. When you turned to look at her she had a wild look in her eyes, mind reeling as she formulated a plan in the moment. “No royal responsibilities, no titles. Just you and me, striking out on our own? We could do it, you know. With your talents? You could be the breadwinner and I’d stay home and keep house and-“

You let out a shocked laugh before you could stop yourself. You pushed yourself up into a sitting position as well, mirroring her own.

“Carrie you have a duty,” you countered gently, covering her hand with your own as you tried to push aside the part of you that ached to do exactly what she had suggested. “To your kingdom, to your people. To me.”

Carrie slumped into herself, the manic look leaving her eyes as she rested her chin on her knees.

“I know, it’s just...” she sighed, squeezing her eyes shut.

“What is this about, Care?” You asked quietly, sensing an inner turmoil within your closest friend.

“I’m engaged to be married,” she confessed and you couldn’t help but feel as though your breath had been knocked out of you.

You scolded yourself for it and for the sudden ache in your chest. You knew you could never be with her the way you wanted, it was foolish of you to ever think otherwise. She was a princess, someday she’d be a queen and you were just Y/N.

“Some prince from the Kingdom of Albuquerque,” she explained further, and you winced at the gendered term, knowing full well that Carrie had no interest in princes or any other man for that matter. “I know I have a duty, and I’ll do it I just... I cannot do it happily.” She sighed.

Your heart ached for a new reason as you watched Carrie, her face buried into her arms. You could practically see the weight of her royal responsibilities pressing down on her and you desperately wished you could help shoulder some of that weight. However, she was the princess and you were just Y/N.

___

Part 2

#jatpbb #jatp big bang #jatp #jatp fic #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms fic #carrie wilson #carrie wilson x reader

[literallythebiggestfuckingsimp]

Twenty-four days of hell

jj maybank x reader

( GIF CREDIT: @rudypankows )

Twenty-four days. It’s been twenty-four days since you last spoke to JJ, and it’s killing you. Your heart feels heavier and heavier with each day passing, and the fight won’t stop replaying itself in your head. It’s torture for you, and as hard as you will for it to just stop, it won’t.

“Well, maybe I don’t want to be just friends!” you screamed, and his eyebrows furrowed.

“The fuck you mean, just friends!?” he had yelled back, equally as angry.

You shook your head. “You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t think I do!” JJ yelled, taking a step closer.

You scoffed. “I’m not gonna keep playing this game with you, Jay. I’m not gonna keep letting you fuck with my head, it’s not fair.”

“I’m not playing a fucking game, Y/N! So let’s just stop this shit and pretend it didn’t happen, alright!”

“No,” you said. You watched as JJ’s jaw clenched. “No, I’m not gonna keep pretending like everything’s okay. Like you’re not with me every morning and running back to her every night. I’m not fucking doing it, JJ.”

“I’m not—“ he paused, sucking in a breath. “I’m not fucking around with you, okay? I promise, I’m not.”

You shook your head, disbelieving. “I’m done.” You turned your back, walking away, only for his hand to grip onto your wrist. You spun around to face him.

“You’re done, are you? You’re just gonna— just gonna walk away like I don’t even fucking exist to you anymore.”

You pushed him back and he stumbled, his jaw slack and tears in his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

That was the last time you had seen him.

That moment twenty-four days ago on the beach was the last time you had heard his voice, seen his face, touched his skin, and you were lost without him. You don’t think you realised how much that stupid little fight would affect you, but you just couldn’t keep doing it.

You couldn’t keep pretending like you were okay when you saw her hand in his, when you saw her lips crashing against his, their bodies a jumble of limbs between each other. Not when it was your hand in his only a few hours ago, your lips on his, your bodies intertwined.

It was breaking you. Slowly but surely, it was shattering you to pieces.

You didn’t think it would be this hard when you agreed to it at first. When JJ had kissed you that night, and you had kissed him back, not caring that he had a girlfriend, only focused on the feeling of his lips on your skin.

It was stupid. And for the first time, you think you remember why you and Kie had come up with the ‘no pogue on pogue macking’ rule. Because all it takes is two, and the whole group comes crashing down with you. And then, well, then you’re lost.

You don’t know if Cheryl knows what you had been doing with JJ for a good month or two now, and you tell yourself that you don’t care, but that’s not true. You care too much, if anything.

If he hadn’t told her, so what? He doesn’t care about you, you know that. He doesn’t give a shit, and neither should you. But, god, you can’t help it. You can’t help that you’re helplessly in— not in love, no. It wasn’t love, not yet, but it could be ... You’re helplessly in .. like with him. It sounds stupid, but you don’t know how else to describe your infatuation.

You’re lying on the soft grass, picking it with your fingers, staring up into the sky, thinking about him. This is where you had met JJ first, at your 7th birthday party. Unbeknownst to you, your mum had invited practically the whole neighbourhood. You weren’t rich, so it was only a small party with jugs of squash, a few bowls of crisps and a huge cake your mum and little sister had baked for you.

It was nice.

At first, you were shocked when all these random kids showed up, because you didn’t know these people. You’d seen a few of them at school, sure, but you really had no idea who they were. You got scared and hid yourself away in your room, sure that no one would come into the house.

That was until someone did.

A small blond headed boy with shining blue eyes opened the door, looking behind him to make sure no one was following him. You stayed silent, confused as to what he was doing. He shut the door quietly, sneaking over to your desk and taking your favourite pen.

Clearly, he had not seen you sat in the corner of the room, looking at him annoyed.

“Can I help you?” you spoke up, eyes narrowed and glaring. He jumped when he head your voice, turning around at the speed of lightning to face you.

“Uh, yeah, I was just, uhhh,” he said, panicked, “looking for the bathroom.”

“Rightttt,” you stretched out, standing up and brushing off your legs. “And that’s why you took my pen?”

His eyes widened slightly, and he laughed it off. “Ohhh, this?” he asked, holding the pen up. It was pink and sparkly, you weren’t sure why he’d want it. “Nice pen. Very sparkly.”

You just glared at him, hands crossed over our chest. “Yeah, and it’s mine. Why are you in here, anyway?”

“Told you, bathroom.” He shrugged, looking at you curiously. “Why are you here? Isn’t this, I dunno, your party?”

You huffed and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, but I don’t know like anyone here,” you admit.

“Im JJ,” he said, holding out his hand to shake your hand. You eye it suspiciously at first, but eventually give in and shake it.

“Y/N,” you nod. He grinned, and you forgot about how he had tried to steal your pen.

You didn’t know it then, but you had made a forever friend. You didn’t know that you would fall in love with him then, that you would later come to get your heart broken by him.

You didn’t know that he would keep the pen, and although you both know it’s stupid, he still has it, tucked away in his dresser as a ‘emblem of your friendship.’ You won’t ever admit it, but you love that he still has it. In fact, you think it’s adorable.

Oh, how much you want to go back to then, when everything was so much simpler.

Your thoughts are broken by the familiar ding of your phone, indicating a new message. You know that it’s probably just another text from Kie, John B, or Pope, but you check anyway, just to be sure.

JB🖕🏻

get ur ass to mine. mandatory

pogue meeting.

Y/N

mandatory? that’s a big word,

surprised you know it

JB🖕🏻

ha. ha.

JB🖕🏻

just get here

Y/N

i’m good, thanks

JB🖕🏻

u can’t just keep ignoring him,

we haven’t seen u in ages

Y/N

watch me.

With that, you switch off your phone, turning it on silent and continuing to lounge on the grass, looking up at the sky.

—

“Ugh, dude,” John B groans, putting his phone on the counter. “She says she’s not coming. Can’t you just go and talk to her already?”

JJ glares at him. “Hell no.”

“Come on, JJ,” Kiara whines. “It’s not fair that none of us get to see her anymore.”

“She’s right, you fucked up. Big time. And we’re paying the consequences,” Pope adds.

JJ rolls his eyes, taking a large swig of his beer. “You’re just agreeing with her ‘cause she got you pussy whipped.”

“I do not,” Kiara says, glaring at him. Pope stays quiet, eyes slightly wide with the confrontation.

“Whatever, man, just talk to her,” says John B, plopping himself down on the sofa.

“Fine,” JJ spits, grabbing his beer and sauntering out of John B’s house.

“You better not fuck up again!” Kie calls out behind him. JJ grumbles under his breath on his way to yours. He knows the way by muscle memory, and at first he really isn’t going to go — he’s just gonna pretend he did and say you didn’t want to talk. But then he gets closer to your house, and he starts to think about how much he’s missed you. How much he wants you back in his life, so he takes a chance.

—

Your peace is disrupted as you hear the soft pads of feet against the gravelly pavement, walking onto the grass and over towards you.

You know who it is, and you hate that you do, because you’ve memorised him down to the weight of his footsteps. JJ.

You make no move to recognise the fact that he’s there, but you both know you know he is. Your eyes glisten with tears, and he gulps, because he did that to you. Him, who would never dream of hurting you, not in a thousand years, has. And it nearly breaks him inside.

Eventually, he comes to lay beside you. Neither of you speak, and a tense silence fills the air. It’s not a comfortable silence, rather filled with unsaid words and the heavy weight of hurt and guilt instead.

“I broke up with Cheryl yesterday,” he says, after a long silence. You don’t answer him, just continuing to stare up at the sky, but your heart gives a small lurch of joy.

Maybe he does care, after all ...

Your words fail you, and all you can say is, “Okay.” This is the moment you’ve been dreading for those full twenty-four days, actually having to talk it out with him, face even more rejection than you already have.

You don’t think he likes you any more than a friend. You don’t think he likes you the way you like him. But you’re wrong.

“Okay?” he asks incredulously. “Okay? Is that all you’re gonna say to me?”

You sigh. “I don’t know what else there is to say.”

“A lot, Y/N. A whole damn lot,” he says, and he sounds like he doesn’t want to talk about the ‘a lot’, and you understand that, because you don’t either.

“We ... ” you start, but you trail off. “We don’t have to talk about it now. Y’know, take it slow kind of thing.”

JJ smiles. You can’t see him, because you’re looking up at the sky, but you know that he smiles because you know him.

“Okay,” he says.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

JJ reaches out to intertwine his fingers with yours, and you let him, squeezing his hand in return. He squeezes back.

There’s a comfortable silence, and you both lay on the soft grass, looking up at the sky, holding hands, grinning like love-crazed fools — which, you suppose, you are.

The silence doesn’t just mean silence at this point. It means all the months of going back and forth meant something more. It means, in so many more ways than words can say, hope. Hope for the future and hope for each other.

So you keep the silence, and you bask in that hope, because the twenty-four days of hell and all that happened before doesn’t matter anymore.

All that matters is you and him, and the hopeful silence you lay in, touching in such a simple but intimate way with so many unspoken words between you that the silence seems to sum out.

Twenty-four days of hell and it was worth it.

A/N: hi :)

also oops there’s a little fault in our stars reference there by accident

#obx #outer banks pogues #outer banks #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #obxstuff #obx jj #obx jj maybank #outer banks jj #john b routledge #kiara carrera #pope heyward

[lovely-yandere-imagines]

Uhhh how about just general headcanons for any character(s) of your choosing

Hello, lovelies! Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all of you! So as a little bit of a gift to you guys I figured that I would do Christmas Headcanons for the Jojos in parts 1 through 5! I really hope you all like it and I wanted to say thank you all for supporting me these past two or so weeks that I’ve been doing these headcanons. I wouldn’t have imagined in my wildest dreams that so many people would like my writings this much!

(Most of these character have been aged up)

Christmas Headcanons under the cut!!

Jonathan Joestar

All he’s ever wanted is to be a true gentleman ever since he was young and with that came the responsibilities of caring for his partner and making sure they were happy.

Christmas is a very happy and important time for him and his love for the holiday just grew even more once he had you. His childhood was a lonely one so he’s really glad he has you now.

He finally has someone he could give his gifts to and spend time with him other than Speedwagon and as the days got shorter and shorter your love of each other grew more and more by the day.

It didn’t matter if the manor was getting colder by the day you kept each other warm by the fire, with you reading a book as you snuggled up to your gentle giant of a man.

On Christmas morning Jonathan is practically bouncing with excitement forcing you to wake up much earlier than normal and is ushering you down the stairs to open presents.

His gift to you is a silver heart locket with a diamond in the middle and a photograph of the two of you on either side. He’s definitely the sentimental type and would give it two you with the most sincere  ‘I love you’ to follow.

“As soon as I saw it I thought of you, though its beauty doesn’t nearly compare you, my love.”

Joseph Joestar

He normally spends the holidays mostly with his family so having you with him this year is a welcomed change. He can’t wait for you to meet all of them. He never really makes a big deal about Christmas but this year is different

His favorite part of the holiday is getting and giving gifts to his loved ones and eating Christmas dinner, though normally he eats too much and falls into a food coma for a little bit.

He is excited to introduce you to his family and friends though and will show you off as much as he possibly can and then some so expect to be the center of his and everyone else’s attention.

“Granny Erina, Mom (that still sounds weird…) this is Y/n! Aren’t they the cutest?! I mean look at them! Do I know how to pick em? or do I know how to pick em!”

He spends most of the time gushing about how great you are to them and you can hardly get in a word yourself when they ask you questions but can you blame the man, you’re a total dream come true to him.

His family seems to enjoy seeing him so happy that they just accept that he won’t shut up but as soon as its time to open gifts he gets a little quiet, well quiet for him that is.

You can tell he’s a little nervous over giving you your gift but soon enough he swallows it down and presents you with a small ring box. “Y/n, this is literally the scariest thing I’ve ever done but..will be mine for the rest of my life or as long as time allows…”

Jotaro Kujo

He normally tries to avoid his family and mother as much as humanly possible during this time of year but since he’s gotten back from Egypt a lot of things have changed, the biggest thing that changed is that he’s met you.

He normally finds the holiday season to be a major pain in his side but since he found you he’s lightened up a little. If you seem to be particularly excited for Christmas he figures he can make it special just for you.

His presents to you mainly consist of experiences. He likes making memories more than he does buying gifts for people, and if it gets him out of the house and spends time with you it’s a win-win situation to him.

He’ll gladly walk around with you and look at Christmas lights and displays while drinking hot chocolate, he’ll even surprise you and take you ice skating and laugh at you every time you fall on your ass.

Don’t get mad at him though cause he’ll help you up and show you how it’s done, his hands are surprisingly warm compared to the cool surroundings and you can’t help but fall for him more.

Sure he can be the most stubborn ass at times but there’s no doubt in your mind that he loves you even if he shows you in his own little way.

He does want to at least get you something as a thank you for being with him and making him so happy but he’s pretty clueless when it comes to buying gifts so he’ll more than likely take you out shopping after the holiday season starts to end.

“What, you didn’t think I forgot, did you? Come on let’s get you something nice before I change my mind.”

Josuke Higashikata

He absolutely loves Christmas, it’s his favorite time of year and its made even better that he has a cutie like you with him now. 

His favorite part is spending it with others and trying to guess what people got for him. He’s the type to invite all of his friends over and have a small Christmas party with them

He’s actually a pretty good guesser most of the time or sometimes he’ll just take a tiny peek by tearing the wrapping paper and then fixing it with his stand once he’s done snooping.

He’ll definitely be the one to drag you to holiday festivals and just enjoy the festive season with him. He’s the dork that always has mistletoe in his hand and will randomly come up to you and hold it over your head.

He is also fine with just staying inside and playing videogames with you cuddle next to him under a blanket, he uses the excuse of it being cold to get you next to him.

He also really likes to buy gifts for his friends even though more often than not he seems to always end up with one present for him as well, funny how’d that happen?

 He’ll bring out your present towards the end of the night and for some reason, there are holes in the box “Hey Y/n, I got you something really special and I really hope you like it! Oh and don’t shake the box it might scare them”

Once you open it a small puppy pops its head out and is happily licking your face before you can even blink or register what exactly you’re holding but as soon as you lock eyes with it it’s love at first sight.

Giorno Giovanna

He never really had anyone to celebrate the holiday season with till recently so he’s not all too sure what to get anyone, that’s why he’s thankful he has you by his side to help him pick out gifts for everyone.

You’ve been such a good change in his life that he values all of your opinions and ideas that it was only natural for him to take you with him while Christmas shopping.

Once he’s done shopping for everyone else the last person on his list is you and since you two are so close this also makes it easier to get you a gift as well since he’s a little clueless about what to get you.

He’s probably given you thousands of flowers but when it comes to something he thinks you cherish he tends to draw a blank but he can’t help but think to a few months ago.

Funnily enough, the first gift he ever got you when you two started dating was a pair of golden earrings in the shape of infinity hearts. “Because my love for you is never-ending, tesoro”

He had to admit it was a little more cheesy than suave but seeing you blush like you did and light up like a Christmas tree was so beautiful to him that he wanted to see you like that again.

So he finally made up his mind and got you a necklace and bracelet to match the earrings and a ring as well. “Remeber what I told you when I first gave you those earrings amore, well I can tell you that it will never change and my love for you is undying”

#jonathan joestar #jonathan joestar x reader #joseph joestar #Joseph Joestar x reader #jotaro kujo #jotaro kujo x reader #josuke higashikata #josuke higashikata x reader #Giorno Giovanna #Giorno Giovanna x reader #jojo headcanons #christmas headcanon #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #part 1 #phantom blood #part 2 #battle tendency #part 3 #stardust crusaders #part 4 #diamond is unbreakable #part 5 #golden winds #vento aureo #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere jojo

[oh-obrien]

Brother’s Best Friend

Relationships: Dylan O’Brien x Original Female Character

Word Count: 7,214

Warnings: Underage Drinking, uhhh making out

Author’s Note: Hey y’all I’m very excited to post this one. Sorry it took longer than expected because mono is currently kicking my ass!

Emerson finished brushing her hair out after she had showered, grateful to have washed off the layer of sweat that had built up on her body after her afternoon run. She set her brush down before turning sideways so she could see herself better in the mirror. She sighed and pulled the legs of her Nike Pros down a little bit more before flattening out the waistband so it sat right under her bellybutton. She huffed before pulling on a long sleeve ‘Texas Softball’ shit and tucking the extra into her shorts. 

Jake, Emerson’s older brother, had insisted that Dylan said it tonight would just be a casual get together, she should be fine. She looked over her outfit once more before pulling on her fuzzy socks and grabbing her phone before she flicked off the guest bathroom light. She picked her water bottle up off the dresser in the guest bathroom as she passed before making her way downstairs. She heard music coming from the speakers in the kitchen and knew that’s where she would find her brother and his best friend.

She rounded the corner into the large kitchen and saw Jake slipping something into the oven while Dylan dug in the fridge for something. She watched the muscles in his shoulders ripple as he reached up to the top shelf to grab a glass bottle of minced garlic. His hair still slightly damp from his own post-run shower. Oh fuck here we go, she thought to herself. “What can I help with?” Emerson asked leaning on the counter. 

Dylan turned around and Emerson had to force herself to not look down at his abs before he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, obviously thinking. “Umm, Jake is finishing the mac and cheese bites, he needs to bake them and I just need to finish the mini garlic knots, if you wanted to help with that.” He set the glass bottle down on the counter before grabbing the melted butter out of the microwave. 

“Sounds good,” Emerson nodded, looking at the center counter that had already been filled with plates of finger foods. “You two didn’t want to just cater this?” She asked the two boys. 

Jake stood up after slipping the mac and cheese bites into the oven. “We don’t usually cater this kind of thing, whoever is hosting usually cooks. Everyone brings drinks over and we just kind of vibe.” He shrugged. 

“Sounds fun,” Emerson watched as Dylan mixed the garlic butter and handed her a brush that looked almost like a paint brush. 

“Just brush the garlic butter over them while I pull some stuff out of the oven and we should be just about done after that,” he stretched his back out. Emerson tried to focus on the mini dough balls in front of her so she wouldn’t have to look at Dylan. “Jake said you were fine being around the alcohol, but I just wanted to make sure you didn’t care?” He asked her.

Emerson mentally rolled her eyes before nodding. Sometimes she forgot she was still four years younger than Jake and most of his friends, and she also forgot that she wasn’t of legal drinking age yet. “Yeah it’s fine with me, as long as you don’t care if I snag a couple drinks,” she tried to sound casual about it. 

She didn’t want to be the ‘best friend's little sister’ anymore. She had turned eighteen, which was still four years younger than Jake and Dylan, but she wasn’t a little kid anymore. “Damn Jake,” Dylan looked to his roommate, “didn’t tell me she drank, and she’s not even twenty-one.” He fake gasped and covered his mouth with his hand, his mouth forming an ‘o’. 

“And I bet I can hold my alcohol better than you can O’Brien,” Emerson rolled her eyes while she picked up the tray of mini garlic knots. “Can one of you idiots open the oven for me?” Dylan nodded and grabbed the oven handle, slowly pulling it open and stepping back so Emerson could slide the pan in. 

After she slid the pan in she turned away from Dylan, who bent over to close the oven. She found him attractive, she wouldn’t be a creep who would stare at him and oogle him the six entire six weeks she would be staying with him and her brother in Los Angeles. Emerson had just graduated high school and had wanted to spend her summer before college, and her last summer when she wouldn’t be completely tied down by D1 athletics, somewhere other than her hometown.

Jake had offered for Emerson to fly out to California to stay with Dylan and himself for the six weeks before she needed to move into her dorm. Jake had moved to California four summers earlier to play college baseball at UCLA and upon graduating he signed with the Los Angeles Dodgers. With Dylan no longer living with his co-stars from Teen Wolf, and with Jake also needing to get more of a permanent place out in Los Angeles, the childhood friends decided that they could share a large Bachelor Pad in the city. 

Emerson had grown up with the boys and knew their energy had often been unhinged and hard to control, so when she pulled up to the boy’s home and walked in to see it nearly spotless, except for a few pairs of shoes strewn about the entrance way, she had been shocked to say the least. She had also forgotten the crush she had on Dylan years ago, and with never having had a relationship, she would be pining after him again, much to her misfortune. 

Dylan had greeted her in the living room with bed-head and a pair of gray sweats hung low on his hips. He had a five o’clock shadow and had clearly just woken up when he offered her a warm hug. He mumbled something about how much she had grown up since he’d last seen her before wandering into the kitchen to make his morning coffee. Emerson had also noticed how much more Dylan had grown up, he now had a six pack, accompanied by a dark happy trail and was now clearly able to actually grow facial hair, something he complained about not being able to do when he had been younger. 

Sighing, Emerson pushed herself up on to the kitchen counter and watched as her brother took inventory of what alcohol they had in the fridge and cabinets. “Tyler said he would bring other stuff right?” Jake asked closing the bottom drawer of the fridge after pulling out two beers. “You still drink hard lemonade right?” He turned to Emerson.

“Yeah T-Pose is bringing a bunch of shit. Holland is bringing wine I think,” Dylan fake gagged. “Also hard lemonade?” He asked Emerson. She shrugged as her brother handed her a can, opening the pop tab on top and taking a sip before speaking.

“I’m a craft beer snob, as all my high school friends called it,” she set her can next to her on the counter. “We have the summer house out on the east end, Long Island is basically the craft beer capital.” Emerson had gotten used to drinking all the expensive craft beers her junior and senior year when her parents would let her and her friends use the east end house. Now she wasn’t able to drink any of the big brand names because they tasted absolutely disgusting in her opinion.  

Dylan leaned back on the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, defining the muscles in his arms more and his abs peeing out from underneath. “That summer house was always a blast man,” he looked over to Jake. “I miss that kind of shit.”

“I miss it too man, trust me,” Jake took a long sip of his drink. “We’re out here now though, it’s still pretty fun, it’s like high school again but this time we can buy the drinks ourselves.” Jake laughed, pulling the last of the food out of the oven and setting it on the counter.

“That part I can drink to,” Dylan tilted his beer towards Jake before taking a long sip of it. Emerson let herself watch as the golden liquid drained from the bottle and also noticed how  Dylan’s adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed. He pulled his phone out of the pockets of his sweats and set his bottle down, quickly replying to a message before slipping it into his pocket again. “I’m going to throw on real pants and a shirt, Tyler will be here in a few minutes so if there’s a knock it’s him.”

Emerson watched as Dylan walked out of the room, his feet dragging on the tiled floor while he rounded the corner to exit the kitchen and his footsteps being heard while he made his way up the stairs. “You’re back on this trend?” Jake asked when his little sister looked back over to him. 

“I guess so,” she lifted up her glasses to run a hand over her face. “Fucking sucks,” she mumbled. Of course Emerson had tried to date in high school, she had been one of the top ranked softball players in the state, there had been a period of time where guys were basically tripping over their own feet to have a chance with her. 

“That football player you went to prom with didn’t work out?” He asked his little sister, leaning on the counter opposite her. Emerson forgot she hadn’t really been able to update her older brother on her life much since she had seen him at his graduation nearly a month earlier. Sure, they texted and called each other from time to time, but Jake had been extremely busy now that he had officially signed into the major leagues. 

Emerson took a sip of her hard lemonade to distract herself before drumming on the can with her fingers. “No,” she shrugged, “he got back with his ex that night actually.” She watched as Jake’s gaze softened. Emerson had really liked Alex, she had a crush on him since sophomore year, and when he had asked her to prom at her senior night game, it had been a dream come true. However, the night of prom Alex decided to go to the prom house his ex had been invited too instead of the house on the shore Emerson and her other friends had rented. Looking back Emerson now felt more than happy she didn’t remember a majority of that night, as awful as that sounds.

“Well,” Jake let out a long breath, “can’t believe I’m about to say this. Dylan’s a good guy, he’s single too,” Jake laughed at himself, not believing that he just told his little sister he felt perfectly fine with her being interested in his best friend and roommate. “He’s been looking around but nothing’s worked out. I can’t say I’d be unhappy if you two happened.” Giving her brother a confused glance Emerson didn’t respond for a couple minutes. Trying to think of an answer that would be okay to give her older brother. 

She slid her glasses back on and pointed to Jake, “so you're telling me,” she pointed to herself, “that you would be perfectly okay with me getting with your childhood best friend and roommate? Sounds kind of convoluted if you want my opinion.” She paused when she heard a knock on the door. “But I’m not complaining!” She called after her brother.

“Not complaining about what?”Dylan asked, as he walked back into the kitchen. He had changed into a pair of dark jeans and a Mets t-shirt. Emerson quickly whipped her head around before trying to think of a witty response.

“About how bad you smell,” she shrugged before watching her brother walk into the kitchen, another guy around his and Dylan’s age trailing in behind him, both boys carrying a twelve pack of beer. “More shit beer? Jesus Jake, did you learn nothing living at home for the first eighteen years of your life?” She saw the other guy, Tyler, look at her with slight shock. “Sorry if that offended you, just want to offend my brother.”

Tyler set his case down on the counter, laughing. “She’s cool, she can stay,” he told Jake and Dylan. “I’m Tyler,” he held his hand out for Emerson to shake. 

“Emerson,” she shook his hand from her place on the counter. After their short introduction, Tyler walked over to the fridge to grab a cold beer and helped put the other two cases away to chill. Emerson watched the three boys move around each other while they pulled out plates, shot glasses and kitchen utensils from different drawers and cabinets, clearly having done it before. 

Dylan paused to steal a mozzarella stick off the plate on the counter, “did you know when the other hooligans are coming?” He asked around his mouthful of food. 

“Uhh, the girls said in the group chat they were coming together around six and I’m sure Hoechlin will be here a little earlier,” Tyler replied. “Sprayberry and Cody will probably be a little late, like they usually are. You fill her in?” Tyler nodded to Emerson.

Dylan looked at Emerson who just shrugged before he nodded, “she knew my castmates were coming over.” He leaned on to the counter next to where Emerson sat and picked up her lemonade, taking a sip before she could grab it from him. “That’s actually not bad. When Jake picked them up the other day I had been kind of confused at first.”

Emerson pulled her sleeve down to wipe at the lip of the can before she took another drink. “Confused as to why he was getting hard lemonade or confused as to why he was getting me hard lemonade?” She asked with a slight quirk in her lips. “Because it is my go to if I’m being honest.”

Dylan grabbed the can out of her hand and took another sip, letting the alcoholic lemonade sit in his mouth a little longer this time, “I could actually really get behind this.” He held it up to his lips again and Emerson hit his shoulder trying to get him to give it back. “You’re not legal, it’s mine now,” he held it closer. 

“Jake!” Emerson yelled her brother’s name, pulling him out of the conversation he had been in the middle of with Tyler. “Make him give it back!” Jake looked down to where Dylan had her drink in his hand and waved his little sister off. 

Tyler laughed watching Emerson glare between her brother and Dylan, “they always like this?” He asked eyeing the two who were arguing over the can still. “Because you know what I’m about to say right?”

“Yeah, yeah I do,” Jake took a long sip of his beer. “They’ve always been like this with each other, and she’s into him which makes it even worse.” He watched as Emerson gave up and pushed herself off the counter, walking over to the counter island to grab a mac and cheese bite.

Tyler watched Dyaln’s eyes follow Emerson as she moved around the kitchen, refilling her water bottle instead of grabbing a drink. “I mean, I know him pretty well too man,” Tyler grabbed one of the mini garlic knots and dunked it into the bowl of marinara sauce. “He seems at least a little bit interested in her himself. Might just be the age thing he has to get over.”

Emerson had just finished filling up her water bottle when she heard another knock on the door, knowing more of Dylan and Tyler’s friends had arrived. “I got it!” Dylan set the empty hard lemonade can down on the counter while he went to answer the door. 

“Wanna help move some if this?” Jake asked Emerson who watched as he and Tyler picked up plates of food. She nodded and grabbed two plates of the finger foods and followed the two boys outside on to the covered patio. “We’ll usually chill out here,” he added. 

Trailing behind the pair as she walked back inside, she saw Dylan in the kitchen laughing with three other girls and felt her heart sink a little bit. His eyes crinkled at the corners while he spoke and the girls around him were also laughing as they set wine and desserts down on the counter. “Emmy!” Dylan called out to Emerson.

“I- fuck,” she sighed walking over ot him, “I hate that I let you call me that,” she glared at him before looking at the three girls. “Hi, I’m Emerson. He’s called me Emmy since I’ve been like twom don’t mind him,” she gave them a smile.

The redhead stepped forward and pulled her into a hug, “I’m Holland and this is Shelly and Arden. You’re Jake’s younger sister right?” She double checked. Emerson nodded as she hugged the other two. 

“And you’ve known Dylan for how long?” Arden asked. 

Emerson laughed in the back of her throat, “since before I was born. Him and my brother have been friends since they were three. Dylan actually came to the baby shower my mom had for me and him and my brother dropped the cake,” she smirked at Dylan who had started to turn red. 

“Wait, I didn’t know that one,” Tyler interrupted as he also greeted the three girls. “Is that true?” He asked Dylan who just nodded in reaction, letting out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in when he heard another knock on the door. 

He walked past Emerson and bumped into her shoulder when he passed, “brat,” he mumbled so only she could hear it. 

“Asshole,” she replied at the same volume and snorted when she saw Dylan flip her off behind his back while he walked to the entryway. She suddenly realized how many people were staring to fill up the kitchen and swallowed the spit that had been sitting in her mouth for far too long. “I’m going to go outside for a few minutes,” she told Jake who asked if she felt okay by just raising his eyebrows. “You know how I get,” she grabbed her water bottle before slipping out into the backyard. 

She felt lucky to be in the position she currently found herself in, but sometimes too many new people too fast got her overwhelmed. She’d always been that way though. She sat down on one of the patio chairs and watched the water in the pool ripple from the filter running, picking at her cuticles that were already torn up. A few minutes later the door opened and she felt someone sit on the chair next to her. 

“You still get like this sometimes?” Dylan asked her, moving his chair a little closer to her now that she knew it had been him who came outside. 

Emerson shrugged, “it happens, happened at all my college visits, happened at states, it’s normal.” She spoke the truth, her anxiety got to be a bit much sometimes and she knew when she needed to pull away for a few minutes. 

“Yeah it happens,” Dylan pulled her right hand away from where she had been picking at the cuticles on her left, “doesn’t mean someone shouldn’t check on you.” Emerson went to speak but he cut her off, “and yes Jake told me you went out for a minute but I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

Emerson bumped her shoulder into Dylan’s before she nodded, “all good now,” she stood up and nodded towards the house. “You have some more people to introduce me to.” Dylan smiled as he stood up, running  a hand through his messy hair.

“The rest just got here,” he followed Emerson into the house and she felt her brother and Tyler’s eyes on them. So much for telling Jake she still had a crush on Dylan, he wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut. 

Another hard lemonade that Dylan had stolen half of later, Emerson found herself outside sitting in a circle next to the fire pit in between Dylan and Shelly, who she had quickly gravitated towards. Most of the food Dylan and Jake made had been eaten and only a few desserts were left on the large glass table, but what had been left out would probably be gone within a couple of hours anyway. 

She had listened as Dylan and his castmates shared stories about set and filming and her brother seemed to fit right into the group. When asked about herself and her relationship with Dylan and her brother, Emerson had a few funny stories of her own to share that had Jake and Dylan groaning and red cheeked. “So,” Tyler Posey sat up a little straighter after the conversation had started to fade. “Anyone up for a little game, straight face, thumper?”

“Never have I ever?” Cody suggested and it had been met with a few hums and nods in agreement. “See I have good ideas sometimes,” Cody laughed, setting his beer down in front of himself.  Emerson shifted uncomfortably once she knew they would be playing never have I ever. It’s the one drinking game she hated playing. If she knew it would  be played at a party in high school she would often excuse herself for the game to go get fresh air or another drink. 

Emerson stood up and Dylan gave her a confused look, setting his bottle of beer down. “I’m just going to grab my water bottle and some Motrin, still a little jet lagged.” She told him. “Everyone can start without me.” She addressed the whole group.

“You’re good?” Jake just wanted to make sure his sister felt okay, but he had been flirting with one of Dylan’s castmates all night and she didn’t want to stomp on any chances he had, unsure if it h.ad been an ongoing thing or not. Emerson nodded and waved him off while she wandered inside, flicking on the kitchen light while she tried to find her water bottle. 

She unscrewed the top and filled it with ice before opening the fridge and grabbing the pitcher of filtered water, pouring it into her bottle. She left it open on the counter while she went to find the motrin in her backpack, opening up the orange bag she found the bottle and dumped two pills into her hand. She hoped to push off the migrange she felt coming on until the morning so she could at least sleep.

Walking back down stairs, shaking the two pills in her hand, she noticed Dylan dumping leftover food into the garbage can and filling up a recycling bag with bottles and cans. “Need help?” She asked before slipping the pills into her mouth and taking a sip of her water before closing it. 

“I actually just came to see what was up with you, figured I could clean up while I waited,” he shrugged, putting a few plates in the sink. “You got out of there pretty quick.” He crossed his arms, leaning against the counter while Emerson slid up into the spot she had been sitting on earlier. “Your dad used to yell at you for that when you were younger.” Dylan pointed out.

Emerson reached up to run her fingers across the scar that sat on the bridge of her nose. “Then I fell off and cracked my face up,” she dropped her hand, “I think he just assumed I had learned my lesson after that.”

Dylan grimaced at the memory of her falling off the counter, he had been over for a superbowl party when that happened. “Clearly didn’t,” he laughed a little bit, “why’d you need to come inside though? Ran off a little fast just to grab a drink and motrin, and thought you said earlier you were amazing at drinking games.” 

“Okay, first off you know I get migraines,” she reminded him. “Second I like drinking games,” she emphasized the word game. “Never have I ever isn’t much of a drinking game, not really a fan.” She shrugged wishing she could curl up in a ball and disappear. She wasn’t about to spew her lack of experience in life out to Dylan, of all people. 

Dylan uncrossed his arms and braced them on the counter behind him, “okay but it’s still fun to learn about all the embarrassing and sometimes slightly illegal things your friends have done,” he knew he was currently pushing the issue. He knew how to push the issue to hear what he wanted to from Emerson, he’d been doing it for years now.

“You see, this is where it gets hard to follow Dylan,” she pointed at him motioning for him not to speak for a few minutes. “It’s not fun when you haven’t done anything normal let alone embarrassing or slightly illegal. So you just sit there twiddling your thumbs the entire time because you lack zero life experience except being related to an MLB player and you’re really good at softball,” she let out a long breath before looking down at the water bottle that sat between her legs. “So no it’s not fun,” she mumbled before looking up.

She watched as Dylan chewed on his bottom lip, probably deciding what to say while he watched her nervously fiddle with her water bottle. “Is it that you just haven’t found anyone to do that kind of thing with?” He asked her. Emerson let her legs uncross and swung them in front of herself, making a thumping noise each time they hit into the cabinet under her. 

“Umm,” she hesitated for a minute. What would he be expecting her to tell him? She currently had feelings for him? The one guy she had actually been interested in during high school got back with his ex the night he took Emerson to prom? “I mean, there had been one guy I was interested in, but he wound up getting back with his ex the night of prom.” She tried to shrug it off. 

“And there’s no one else you’re interested in?” Why did he keep pushing so hard? What would be the outcome if he eventually coaxed it out of her? 

Emerson took a moment to run through all the possible answers to the question in her head. She could just tell him, she was interested in someone, but then he would definitely continue to push the issue. “I mean, yeah there’s people I’d be interested in, but it’s unrealistic to pursue if I’m being honest.” She cleared her throat after and watched as Dylan pushed himself off the counter, moving closer to Emerson. He stopped when he stood in front of her, his knees almost brushing hers. 

Emerson looked up and noticed his five-o’clock shadow that she wanted to reach out and brush her fingers over. She wanted to know what it would feel like if she cupped his cheek in her and. What it would feel like if she kissed him. She also wanted to know what his lips would feel like on hers, if they would be soft or slightly chapped. She had kissed boys before, but none of the kisses she had turned out to be ‘good’. Dylan was older than her, more experienced, he would most likely know what to do, he’d easily be able to guide her. 

“Well,” his eyes flickered down to her lips and then back up to her eyes. His warm eyes searching hers for any sign of discomfort or uneasiness, “I also know there’s people I’m interested in, but I wasn’t sure what the consequences would be if I pursued said feelings.” He moved even closer to Emerson, her legs moving so he could stand between them. 

Her breath hitched in her throat when she noticed that she could feel Dylan’s body heat radiating off of him, he felt very warm, and very close. “At- at least it’s not unrealistic,” she told him, never breaking eye contact. 

He lifted a hand to rest under her chin and his thumb ran across her bottom lip. Emerson sat stunned, she felt paralyzed, Dylan felt too close to her and he was touching her in what she classified as a very intimate way. “You tell me if this is unrealistic,” he lifted Emerson’s mouth even closer to his and she felt his breath fan across her lips, she could smell the alcohol on his breath but the sweetness of the lemonade element overpowered it. He was sober. She was sober. It was fine to kiss him. 

“I don’t think it is,” she quietly replied. 

Dylan swiped his tongue over his lips and they pulled into a slight smile. “Can I- can I kiss you?” He asked before swallowing thickly. Emerson responded by pushing up and slotting her lips against his, a long breath releasing from her nose as she finally felt slightly relaxed for the first time that night. Their lips seemed to move together much smoother than any kiss she had before, and it didn’t feel messy or rushed. 

After a few seconds Emerson pulled away to breath and Dylan rested his forehead against hers, a breathy laugh falling past his lips while they both smiled. “I cannot believe I just did that,” Emerson mumbled before laughing herself, her forehead falling to Dylan’s shoulder as they both tried to laugh any awkwardness out. 

“It wasn’t bad though right?” Dylan asked and Emerson could feel him smiling against her shoulder. “Because there’s no pressure but I’d really like to take you upstairs for a little while and try that again.”

Emerson’s eyes widened at Dylan’s words and she picked her head up, waiting for him to do the same before she spoke. “You’re serious?” She asked with slight unbelief in her voice, “because the answer is that felt fucking amazing and the answer is yes,” she had to be dreaming right now, she really had to be. Dylan pushed away from the counter and held a hand out for Emerson to take. “Thank you,” she gripped it as she slid off the counter and her feet planted on the tile floor of the kitchen. 

“My pleasure,” Dylan gave her a purposely terrible wink as he dragged her towards the staircase by her hand. Emerson followed him up the stairs, trying not to trip while they both laughed like little kids  who were trying not to get caught doing something they weren’t supposed to. Once reaching Dylan’s room he pulled Emerson inside and closed the door before pressing her against it, chest to chest, his hands on either side of her head. 

The pair caught their breath and just watched each other for a few moments, taking the situation in before Dylan dipped down and pressed his lips to Emerson’s. His hands came up to rest on his shoulders, one of his slipping down to grip her waist and pull her tighter against him. “Wait,” Emerson pulled away, “everyone’s gonna wonder where we went,” she breathed out.

“So,” Dylan pulled her away from the door and pushed her onto his bed, her letting out an ‘oof’ when her back hit the mattress. “Let them wonder,” he shrugged, crawling above her. Emerson reached up to wind her arms around his neck, her fingers running through the hair at the base of his neck. “Because I am very happy right here,” with that he leaned down to kiss Emerson again.

Emerson closed her eyes and tried to melt into the feeling of kissing Dylan. She felt as if she was on cloud nine, kissing the boy she had a crush on for well over half her life, and she didn’t want to let it slip away too fast. She took a breath through her nose when she felt Dylan’s teeth pull on her bottom lip and she pulled away from the kiss way too fast, his teeth catching on her lip as she jerked away. “I’m sorry!” She wanted to crawl under the bed and hide. “I just didn’t - I wasn’t,” bhe she couldn’t find the words she wanted to say. 

“You haven’t gone that far before and you weren’t sure what to expect?” Dylan asked her as they both sat up, her legs swinging over the side of his bed. Emerson nodded and bit down on her bottom lip, not wanting to actually admit she had as little experience as she actually did. “And that is perfectly fine,” Dylan rested a hand on her thigh and started to rub circles into her skin. “I don’t see that as a problem,”

Emerson turned to face him, “and it’s fine and dandy you don’t see it as a problem, but I do! It’s embarrassing Dylan! I’m starting college and don’t even know how to properly kiss a boy when all my friends were having sex their sophmore or junior year!” She felt herself wanting to crawl under the bed more and more with every word she spoke but Dylan sat back against his head bored and pulled her with his so she straddled his lap. 

“I mean, we’re here now right?” He slipped his hands under her shirt and ran his thumbs along her hip bone sending goosebumps around her entire body. “And if you trust me enough to take the lead I can show you how this whole kissing thing works,” he pinched her side making her laugh and grab his hand, “it can be quite nice when you actually relax.” He gave her a sideways smirk.

“I-” Emerson paused, “okay, yeah. I trust you.” She nodded her head and relaxed in Dylan’s hold, waiting for him to make the first move.

He reached down to pull off her glasses and folded them closed, placing them on his nightstand. “Well first off, it’ll be a lot more comfortable without these in the way,” he smiled and leaned forward to peck her lips before he got a firmer grip on her hips and flipped her over so she again found herself underneath him.

He braced himself on his forearms above her, his stomach pressed against hers, “now just let your lips follow mine, ‘kay?” He leaned down to attach his lips to Emerson’s. 

She closed her eyes and found her left hand gripping the front of Dylan’s shirt, the right reaching around to settle in the soft hair at the back of his head. She felt his lips moving against her’s and tried to copy his movements unsure of what else to do. Dylan smiled against her lips when he picked up what she had been trying to do and decided to run his tongue against her bottom lip and gauge her reaction for where to go next. When Emerson didn’t pull away Dylan decided he could probably go a little further and allowed himself to pull away to take a breath.

“I’m sure you’ve at least heard about using tongue to kiss,” he laughed lightly when Emerson scrunched up her nose. “Yeah, yeah. You’ve heard about high school boys who don’t know how to do it right,” he told her. “I told you I’m showing you how real guys kiss, not high school scum.”

Emerson took a deep breath before she leaned forward to reconnect their lips, her teeth pulling lightly on Dylan’s bottom lip this time. “Then stop talking and show me.” She mumbled. Dylan felt a groan bubbling in the back of his throat and swallowed it, instead opting to lean forward and run his tongue over her bottom lip before he even attached their lips. 

Emerson’s mouth had opened slightly against his and took it as his opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, he felt her tense slightly but then she quickly relaxed. He wrapped his tongue around hers and pulled it slightly into his own mouth before pulling away, dragging her bottom lip between his teeth as he did. He kissed the corner of her slightly swollen lips, and rested his forehead against hers. He felt himself start to grow uncomfortable in his jeans but pushed the feeling away, this needed to be about him making Emerson comfortable, not about him getting off. 

“Damn,” Emerson laughed as she felt Dylan’s slightly heavier breathing fan across her lips. “You’re pretty good at this.” She let her hand that had been gripping the front of his shirt slip underneath it, running up and down his abs. 

Dylan shivered before offering her a smile back, “not too bad yourself,” he threw her another terrible wink. “Gets even better though,” he added, “could show you that too if you were still up for it.” Emerson nodded when she heard everyone outside still laughing and talking slighter louder than they needed too, their voices drifting through Dylan’s cracked window. 

“I mean, sounds pretty good to me,” she hummed, “I just feel bad, I’m not like doing anything for you.” She watched as Dylan’s gaze softened. 

He reached up to cup her jaw with his left hand, just his right hand holding him up now. “Trust me,” he leaned down to peck her lips, “this is more than enough for me.” Dylan moved his hand down so it gripped her chin and turned her head slightly to the right, exposing the left side of her neck to him. Emerson swallowed thickly when she felt his lips attach to the left corner of her lips, he started trailing kisses up to where her jaw met her neck and let his teeth scrape gently across the area, his tongue running across it after. 

He continued the trail of kisses down her neck again until his lips reached her pulse point. He felt Emerson stiffen in his arms and knew he found exactly what he has been looking for. He started sucking on the spot lightly and felt Emerson’s grip on his hair tightern slightly. After a few seconds he bit down lightly on the skin and he heard a small noise slip past her lips that sent her pulling away from him. 

“I’m so-” but he cut her off.

“That’s natural don’t be sorry and let me finish what I started, and don’t make yourself stay quiet. I find it quite hot when I know I’m making a girl feel good,” he mumbled and attached his lips to the same spot again, intending to leave a very nice hickey there. 

Emerson laid plaint in Dylan’s hold and tried to let herself fully enjoy the feeling of his lips against her neck. She hoped he wasn't lying when he said he liked hearing that he made girls feel good because she let a quiet moan slip past her lips when he bit down on the area again. He continued to suck a little harder on the area and soothed it with his tongue every few seconds. 

Dylan continued his actions until he knew there would be a bruise forming on the area and pulled away to admire his work. A dark bruise was in fact starting to form exactly where he wanted it to and he leaned down to run his tongue across it a final time before he kissed his way back up to Emerson’s lips. 

She felt more comfortable this time and decided maybe she could try and take more of a lead, not wanting to leave Dylan high and dry. She pulled on the hem of Dylan’s shirt while they kissed and he pulled away to pull the fabric over his head, dropping it on the floor next to his bed. Emerson let herself admire his body for a moment before she spoke, “can I try?” she asked quietly.

Dylan let himself let out a quiet groan at her question before nodding. He gripped her hips again and flipped them over so she straddled his lap, her ass resting right above his growing ‘problem’. Emerson leaned forward to kiss his lips before she ran her tongue under his bottom lip, slowly and slightly unsure. Dylan parted his lips and allowed her to move her tongue into his mouth, tangling with his for a moment before she pulled away.

“Just like this?” She asked as she grabbed his chin and turned his head to the side. Dylan gave a hum in approval and closed his eyes when he felt Emerson attach her lips to his neck. Her left hand splayed out over his abs while her right shakily held his chin still. 

She remembered one of her friends saying something about her boyfriend loving it when she pulled on his earlobe with her teeth while they were making out and decided it was worth a shot if it could possibly impress Dylan. She allowed her lips to trail up his neck until they were right under Dylan’s lips and felt him shiver when she planted a kiss there. Closing her eyes and hoping for thr best she pulled on his earloble lightly with her teeth and heard Dylan let out a breathy ‘fuck’. 

Happy with herself Emerson trailed her lips down his neck again until they met his adams apple. She bit down lightly on the skin before she began sucking on it, trying to mimic the actions he had done on her neck a few minutes earlier. She soothed her tongue over the skin after a little while and felt Dylan’s grip on her hips tighten as he let out a louder groan this time. “Damn you learn fast,” he mumbled as Emerson sucked on his skin again before pulling lightly on it with her teeth. She left a gentle kiss on the area before sitting up, admiring the dark mar forming on his skin. 

“Thanks,” she smiled leaning down to peck his lips. “I had a great teacher,” it was her turn to offer Dylan a wink. She laid her head down on his chest and his arms came to wrap around her, hugging her against him. “We should probably go downstairs and see what everyone’s doing,” she said after noticing it had fallen quiet outside now.

Dylan laughed and it shook her entire body, “yeah sporting matching hickeys and swollen lips,” he replied. “But I think you’re right.” He unwrapped his arms from Emerson and pulled her down into one final, lingering kiss before she sat up fully. She grabbed her glasses off the nightstand and slid them on straight.

“Here,” she bent down to hand him his shirt, “might want to put that back on,” she shrugged as she wandered out of his room and to the staircase. 

Dylan rushed to pull the shirt over his head as he followed Emerson down the stairs, “hope you know you’re staying in my room tonight!” He told her while she grabbed her water bottle.

“Yeah,” Emerson took a sip, “and you might want to put your shirt on right side out before you go outside,” she patted his chest while she walked past, pulling the sliding glass door open and stepping outside. Leaving Dylan in the middle of the kitchen, red faced while he turned his shirt right side out.

#dylan obrien #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien imagine #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #dylan obrien fanfiction #Dylan obrien x ofc #anna writes #anna's oneshots

[kazbrekkerrs-remade]

ekrjhak i lov eu and to further enable you: ur thoughts on blue, gansey, ronan and adam and henry? and their group dynamic????? 👀👀👀

Wow this took me ages sorry dfjfhd. Claire... u enable me too much these are my onions <3. Under a cut because I went. overboard :3. I’m probably going to have to shorten this I don’t know if tumblr will even let me post something this long dkshjfhg. (Also I wrote half of this in word so if there’s proper capitalization in places that’s why, don’t let it cloud my image as a cool, laid-back bitch that doesn’t care for grammar.)

i’m starting individually then moving onto group dynamics heh

blue i like blue but it did take a bit of growing on me djjdjhjss. i like her a lot bc i relate to her a lot, but i do think there was a lot of room for improvement. she said she wanted to see the world and make it better but how exactly.. is that a roadtrip? i mean i guess it’s a start in a way, but i think it would’ve been much better if we saw her join an activist organization.. volunteer for a non-profit or something. Also her misguided feminism ah! But I can be a bit more lenient with that bc she was still very young when the series ended so. Also she was revealed to be part tree and then like. Nothing substantial came of it? idk

Ganseyboy! I have to be honest my.. fave uwu. There is a Lot of room for improvement  but I just. Optimist!! insecurities :( also he KNEW he was gonna d*e I’m. sad. Anyway like I said a lot of room for improvement as in like.. not everything is about you king <3 also he needs more… idk I don’t wanna say empathy bc i think that’s something different but like. He needs to realise that what he thinks is best isn’t gonna be the way everyone deals with something, if that makes sense? Like basically the “how do you know what’s good for me?” “THAT’S MY OPINIOOONNNNN!!” vine. THAT SAID I love him so much.. he held up the mouse to his face! And smiled!! mon dieu.. when he made bird jokes to make adam laugh… “am I in your dreams?” AH! In a way, blue and gansey are sons of the same gun: I love them both but there could be more done with them tbh. But I have a lot of fun with Fansey, a.k.a: fatima gansey. Kind of like fanon gansey except no one’s opinion matters besides mine <3 (basically it’s  the *aggressively kicks off shoes* “yee haw”, parts of gansey, and then me giving him the arc he deserves) maybe we could sum it up to “ma’am that’s my emotional support projection character” but like. That’s my business.

ADAM! Previous endorsements include: “might fuck around and become an adam parrish stan account.” “I’ve only had adam for a day and a half but if anything happened to him I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.” “I go :D whenever I see it’s an adam chapter” (these are more or less verbatim from my previous posts.) that said, I don’t have many fully formed thoughts because I uhhh don’t remember the books that well and also I repress the adam chapters bc they hit too close oops :). tbh I don’t have many complaints at all heh. That’s not to say he doesn’t have flaws but a) I will excuse them because he’s justified, adam does anything problematique and I’m like he can have a little murder. As a treat. and b) I genuinely loved his arc so. No complaints for real!! Also.. adam realising he is capable of loving and being loved…. *kermit meme* I have nearly teared up while writing this. :( one more half baked thought: trc having being “known” as a mark of being loved but then adam being like “i am unknowable” and then there was a moment of him with ronan like “how foolish of him to think he was unknowable”.... *kermit hearts meme intensifies*

RONAN O CLOCK to be honest. I. don’t have any meta or complaints I just love him. I love him a LOT okay.. very much. Big love. Sharp edges tough guy but he names his dream animals chainsaw and gasoline and has a pooping blanket for chainsaw… I can’t remember the quote but that but in cdth where he was like the point is dreamer or not if people are going to get hurt I’m going to stop it… Much to think about. HIS GROWTH. IN THE DREAM THIEVES wow can you believe I read him in TRB and was like ‘I don’t care for him’ ddhfjdhf and then in the dream thieves I’m like.. I have rescinded all previous callouts of ronan lynch. Oops. HE LOVES HIS FRIENDS SO MUCH oh my gosh. Ronan just… he has so much range for feeling!! he feels so much!!! I love that about him so much omg

Henry. Ah. This is where we get kind of controversial jdhjdfh I’m sorry but. I’m going to be honest I like him well enough as a character but I don’t care for him much I’m sorry I just. It’s because he was introduced so late. And only became an important character towards like.. the last half of TRK? I mean, I’d have loved him if he was introduced earlier, hell at least have him come into play in BLLB. The issues I have with him isn’t because of anything about him as a character though, I think it’s all about the way he was handled. I think because he came in so late, there just wasn’t enough time to do justice to the depth that he had, or give him an arc or anything, or enough time to connect with him. Also a part of me feels like he was in there just to kind of tie up Blue and Gansey’s stories and give them something to do after the end of TRK (which sucks because like… making your only canon POC being primarily to develop/give your white characters storylines… (blue isn’t white in my mind but like she was written “colorblind” and when that happens it usually means the author viewed them as white at least in the beginning jhfhgfj. but i don’t remember it too well so if i’m wrong lmk please!)). But probably my biggest problem is: I couldn’t help get the vibe that MS was facing criticism for the lack of diversity and so decided to bring in an asian character. Like, I feel that way bc he came in so late, and because of that he was so half-baked I’m.. gah. GAH. That’s unfair maybe henry is a cool dude hdhfg but I just can’t warm up to him because of this :/

Group dynamics!! With the gangsey I have to *sobs* I love them so much I’m.. what a strange constellation they all were <3

blue and ronan!! BROnan amirite… omg. That moment when blue nearly slips and ronan immediately catches n holds on to her… she would have to remember that :( sons of the same gun. Best friends!

Blue and adam.. gah. As friends it really goes hard. Get you someone who will stab you if you fall too deep into the nether-realm <3 but uhh. As dates. YIKES. Blue really just. Kissed noah while dating him. And didn’t even think for a second “I have a bf” :( not very cool of her to tell gansey about the kiss curse but not telling adam which I mean, I know that happened to show that they weren’t a good match but. Still yikes. Blue was lowkey cheating on adam the whole time during tdt huh :( also bro I am number one stan of the “I wish you could be kissed jane” scene but it happened literally RIGHT AFTER she broke up with adam I’m. relax <3. I wish that was kind of addressed but meh, overall it doesn’t bother me too much. I think they’re great friends :)

Ronan and adam… I can’t talk about it too much. I really can’t!! I really really can’t! the fact that adam goes to gansey like what is love and gansey is like she makes me quiet… and then adam is like “he was so still inside”.. :( omg the bit during trb when ronan is going on a swearing tirade and adam is like “they didn’t start making the civic until ‘73 <3” what a JACKASS I love him. Second secret!! --okay! Wait I have to say: while this one is not really a big deal compared to all their other moments, my favourite quote is “ and he realised that while he’d been looking at ronan, ronan had been looking at him” :uwu face:

Blue and gansey: :3 :33333 maybe it’s the muslim but I really like the tragedy of not being able to kiss :( I would beg just one off you! Under all this! Maybe I’m crying because of the inherent romantic-ness of the night sky with all its stars and late night drives :( wow I love them. Also i know most people find it annoying but I personally love the “I’m never gonna fall for this person” *fast forward to getting to know each other* “ahahah. :) I have rescinded all callouts of ____. she is now my girlfriend (long story)” (not to be confused with enemies to lovers <3 (not to be confused with enemies to friends to lovers <3)) also they can kiss now thank you very much.

Okay I will just preface this with: gansey’s relationships with both ronan and adam have the “how do you know what’s good for me” element to them so I don’t have to address it later hdfgjlfj but bro they love each other so much I’m… “dream me the world… something new for ever night” you’re leaving for TWO DAYS.. gansey gave up monmouth omg what became of that I really forgot khffhk did he get it back. I don’t even need to elaborate on ronan, “ronan would do anything for gansey” :(

ADAM AND GANSEY I been WAITNG for this one! Turn it up! Bro if you saw the whole face I made when I realised it was time for this kdhfhfkhu this is so loaded despite the fact that I cant articulate it <3 the.. idk what to call them. Parallels? Foils? I didn’t take lit sorry but he RANGE we could have had there… remember when gansey was shocked in trk bc :0 you guys came with me and also “they had run for him”. bro their whole relationship had so much. Tension because of their different backgrounds and fundamentally different outlooks because of their backgrounds, and I think if we had seen them properly connect then both of them could have grown from that. I know we see adam understanding gansey a bit better I don’t remember when that happened but I know it did at some point hhdsf but gansey.. never does! Huff and puff. It’s really so FRUSTRATING to me bc that could have key development for gansey but also for adam and gansey’s relationship. And also I feel like we didn’t.. see them try either? Which is so frustrating like idk if it’s a fault on stiefvater’s part or just with YA lit in general that platonic relationships are kind of ignored. Or maybe it’s because idk I remember ms saying she had a lot of issues while writing trk.. but still. We could have really had it all but instead I have to live with “don’t break him adam” I’m (: ok but now I must lighten the mood hjsdhf so might I add: when one of them sees the principal in his crazy funky junky hat and goes “yee haw”… when gansey is like :DDD hey ADAM guess WHAT and adam is like ? and gansey is like oh it was a fully casual problem with the ALTERNATOR of my car of COURSE it was the alternator, it was really simple and I fixed it with much ease :D and adam is like :’D felt like the had hatched a baby bird.. my uwus. ADAM! give me an idea! ALSO if anyone will allow me to venture into adansey territory…. the fact that adam is cabeswater’s magician and gansey now.. is cabeswater in a way. MUCH to think about. I still spend a lot of time thinking about the dryad au the problem is I have never been to progress past the “vague concept” stage of stories and this is why I don’t write dhfjhfdhf. But yes. I think about it often :3

i also like the henry with the gang, i think it could work really well but once again it wasn’t given the time for me to really see it :( also. ronan being racist. and adam laughing along with that. why was that included, ms turn on your location i just wanna talk

okay once again thank you for enabling me claire and i’m so sorry for this monster dsjkhfjkdhg

#aha. am i more than you bargained for yet <3 #claire tag #asks #mutuals #anyway if for some reason you ever wanted a comprehensive guide on my thoughts on the trc characters here it is <3 #though it's not really comprehensive kjhdsjkhfg #when i reread trc. and remember it this time. then you will know #anyway this took me three weeks sdhfkjdfh sorry

[jennycalendar]

2019 fic roundup

december was INSANE and i spent most of january dealing with the aftermath of Terrible Parents, but i am finally doing this! in nearly-february! good grief!

tagged by @catty-words​! always a delight, cori <3

Total 2019 Word Count: 541,906 Total 2019 Hits: 29,555 Other 2019 AO3 Stats: Kudos: 3,184; Comment threads: 787; Bookmarks: 509; Subscriptions: 223.

Total 2018 Word Count: 338,835 Total 2018 Hits: 22,374 Other 2018 AO3 Stats: Kudos: 2,192; Comment threads: 453; Bookmarks: 280; Subscriptions: 69.

links and titles to 2019 works (buckle up, folks.)

[btvs] imperfections (148,374 words) y’all know about the braveryverse already but i’ll bring up some good points: jenny and giles accidentally adopt the entire scooby gang. also faith gets some actual support and is actually eventually stable enough to date buffy. good times.

[btvs] deliberate obstruction (5,492 words) the one where jenny is petty as fuck and attempts to sabotage every single one of giles’s dates after their breakup. not her best look, but it was really fun to write jenny being Not Great. she deserves to have that option.

[btvs] arch-nemeses (2,171 words) who doesn’t love some of that good old-fashioned ripper au nonsense? particularly when it’s spike and ripper being confusing nemeses who sometimes drunkenly make out (jenny thinks this is very funny).

[btvs] sick day (3,097 words) written because someone should take care of giles, damnit! probably not jenny, tho. she’s not the best at it. lucky for her giles loves her so much.

[btvs] simpatico (10,096 words) sister fic to the grieving process! set circa btvs season six! jenny is connor’s awkward aunt! giles is a repressed disaster who’s still pining but refuses to admit it! 

[btvs] honesty’s the best policy (3,830 words) that one where giles and buffy are hit with a Truth Spell that means they say exactly what they’re thinking. is that all that bad for buffy? not too much. is it a little iffy when you’re a repressed watcher man who still haven’t told your girlfriend how much you love her? uh.

[btvs comics] i router, you giles (1,111 words) GOD this was written BEFORE i knew that giles and jenny were dating in the reboot comics and isn’t that a concept? a snarky-cute first meeting! ok not really that cute bc they just yell at each other a lot! but definitely snarky!

[btvs] transitional (3,152 words) good golly this is cute and i honestly forgot that i wrote it. which makes sense, bc there is a lot of stuff on this list. set in between season one and season two, in an attempt to bridge the giles/jenny gap between “awkwardly friendly coworkers” and “oh my god i think i like you”

[btvs] across the pond (5,323 words) FUN FACT this got nominated for a headline award and i’m SO PROUD OF THAT?! epistolary fic! giles leaves for england in s6 but without his wife! his wife is very mad and writes him VERY MANY LETTERS TO YELL AT HIM! perfect for those people who sometimes think “god, i wish jenny had been in s6 to yell at giles.” 

[btvs] very really married (66,987 words) giles and jenny got drunk-married in las vegas and are keeping the marriage going so they don’t look like terrible authority figures. giles does not want buffy to know about his fake wife. giles does not want his fake wife to know about his real slayer. giles has a lot of problems and it doesn’t help that he might be catching feelings. big mess.

[btvs] bad dreams (2,267 words) GILES/JENNY/ANYA IS BEST SHIP NEXT QUESTION

[btvs comics] an open mic enthusiast (2,250 words) yet another giles/jenny comic-reboot meet-cute written before i knew they were dating!!! this time: jenny gets to see giles playing guitar. repeatedly. because she keeps going back to watch him at the open mic.

[btvs comics] blindsided (2,024 words) my first (and definitely not last) giles/anya fic! a shorter version of a plot bunny i hope to chase down in 2020 (ahaha did i say that WHOOPS)

[btvs] uncharted (16,469 words) my jenny calendar day fic! also known as “jenny calendar has a guilt complex: a novella.” no prophecy dream outs jenny to the group -- but she tells them anyway. and blames herself. and breaks up with giles while she’s trying to Fix Things. absolute mess. (thank god there’s a happy ending, right?)

[btvs] on the mending of hearts (9,236 words) that giles/anya fic where giles shows up at anya’s failed wedding and sweeps her off her feet and they have sex in his hotel room! except uhhh there’s a lot more drama and crying and anya really just needs some cuddles, tbh.

[btvs] extracurricular activities (1,003 words) straight up this one BARELY counts as a 2019 fic. i wrote it back in 2016 and forgot about it and found it on my hard drive and wrote an ending to it. it’s tiny, but it’s cute! lots of early-relationship calendiles fluff, as is My Brand.

[btvs] cookie dough and boy talk (a remix) (3,976 words) dawn, but in the ripper au! she’s a precocious little bab and ripper babysits her and gets semi-adopted by joyce. it’s a thing.

[btvs] a history lesson (698 words) a brief ripper au interlude between jenny and dru. dru tries to point out that jenny and ripper are in love. jenny very unconvincingly denies it.

[btvs] faith, hope, and pancakes (3,236 words) ripper au, now with faith! and she gets to hang with college-age jenny! who is dating her idiot boyfriend ripper! the Most Fun of times.

[btvs] compromises (750 words) this....was supposed to be a three-sentence prompt but I Can’t Do That. giles and jenny discuss (read: jenny yells at giles about) giles attempting to attack angel on sight.

[btvs] valentine buzz (3,422 words) i wrote this in may lmao but i just REALLY WANTED to write fluffy braveryverse valentine’s day nonsense!!! lots of cuddles and kisses and softness abound in this fic.

[btvs] days in goodness spent (5,893 words) this fic's point was a little more abstract and a little less blunt than most of the rest of these, but i wanted to explore the concept of giles slowly going from idealizing jenny to genuinely loving her. i hope i did it justice.

[btvs] to have and to hold (7,861 words) giles and jenny get married in the braveryverse. that’s really all there is. also i posted this on my birthday (may 23rd) AND it is the 23rd fic on this list!!!! WILD!!!!!)

[btvs] saw her in the streetlight, making all the world bright (5,738 words) took me like a year and a half to write the first fic in the ripper au, lmao. in which jenny is a snarky eighteen-year-old, ripper is a snarky college dropout in a band, and neither of them are at ALL good at communicating. especially not ripper.

[btvs] perfect (1,465 words) ripper au: it’s revealed that jenny hasn’t had sex before. ripper handles this with his characteristic maturity and grace (just kidding lmao he FREAKS. but it’s bc he loves her.)

[btvs] respite (1,106 words) i wrote this after issue 5 of the reboot dropped bc i was very emotional about canon power couple giles and jenny. in retrospect, i gave giles’s emotional maturity WAY too much credit--esp. given what’s going on now--but it was still fun as heck to write.

[btvs] shouldn’t we be getting together (3,193 words) this fic’s existence is a combo of me reading a summer camp ya novel and liking the Aesthetic but not the Culture & me talking endlessly w/ @jackalopingintothevoid​ about ripper and jenny’s teenage dynamic. so many of these fics have her galaxy brain takes woven in and i KNOW she knows that. lov u, jack.

[btvs] fragmented (6,158 words) written because of that one time my brain was like “but what if jenny WAS haunting the school?” happy ending because it’s me and g/j deserve some kisses.

[btvs/hp crossover] buffy summers, muggle-born (22,070 words) i CAME BACK TO THIS in 2019 and wrote a few chapters and DROPPED IT LIKE A HOT POTATO. hopefully 2020 will bring me the courage to pick it up again!!!!!! who DOESN’T want a carelessly-mashed-together crossover where the scoobies and the golden trio are all going to hogwarts together for some reason????

[btvs] in bloom (8,452 words) this was SUPPOSED to be the end of the jenny-anya-tara trilogy. it was not. (more on that later.) this was also supposed to be a fic where giles and jenny get together. jenny and anya got together. writing things is wild sometimes.

[btvs] i still want to be your girl (35,165 words) straight up i am so proud of this fic! s7 au: jenny was chased out of town by angelus. giles does not know this. jenny has been working with angel in la, but left with faith to try and help defeat the first. giles is not the guy she remembers. (but jenny’s not exactly the lady giles remembers, either. so maybe things might work out.)

[btvs/leverage crossover] what’s in a name (4,421 words) sophie’s & jenny’s relationship to their names & identities always so totally fascinated me! this fic was my way of exploring that. (also i got to give giles and jenny a toddler. that was fun too.)

[btvs comics] live a little (6,700 words) i had so much fun coming up with a backstory for giles and jenny in the comics that i am kinda tempted to eventually try and do it again. this one was fun to write, tho.

[btvs] kind of like hydrogen peroxide (7,501 words) THIS was FUN. ripper au, but it explores both jenny’s longing for High School Normalcy AND ripper’s fucked-up relationship to magic. also senior prom is a thing.

[btvs] mending fences (6,093 words) sequel to the aforementioned epistolary fic! lots of first-person self-loathing from giles, but also a LOT of love for jenny and his kids. also the man really truly needs to stop repressing.

[btvs] her father’s daughter (1,982 words) 2020 will bring us another chapter of this fic i swear to GOD. literally there’s only one chapter up so i cannot even TALK about my plans for it but uhhh if you want giles and jenny and their three daughters pls feel free to go to that prologue and check it out.

[btvs] a thousand different ways we fell apart (4,888 words) the au fic to encompass all au fics! inspired by the comic reboot and me being like. christ. do they go through this ridiculous shit in EVERY universe? ....and then i wrote a fic where jenny was a space traveler looking through multiple universe to try and fix her marriage with giles. extra fun.

[btvs] no such roses (4,814 words) this one turned out a TINY bit rushed, but the concept of jenny bringing giles back from the dead is always something that i love exploring. i might come back and rewrite this, someday.

[btvs comics] no perfect choice (4,801 words) OOF. wrote this one after issue 8 dropped. a lot softer and more tender than what actually happened, tbh. maybe i will reread it again to make myself feel better about comic calendiles and their brutal split.

[btvs] family (3,545 words) wrote this one p early in the year and came up with an ending to it much later! ripper au: the story of how xander came to live with giles and leave his parents. angst-with-a-happy-ending abounds.

[btvs] a california january (2,206 words) jenny and giles attend a funeral together. that’s pretty much it. this is defs one of the best things i wrote this year, tho.

[btvs] how i survived my summer vacation (volume two) (25,027 words) swear to god this is gonna be the next thing i update. the braveryverse NEEDS to continue. it’s got married calendiles, for god’s sake.

[btvs] clear and impartial judgment (3,977 words) that fic i wrote when i got mad at a lack of resolution wrt helpless. like!!! giles drugged buffy!!! do we not get to talk about the psychological ramifications that would have on her???? (well. canon doesn’t. but i do.)

[btvs] sunshine ladies (10,188 words) THIS FIC WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN and i say that with incandescent love in my heart. i intended for the ‘verse to be giles/jenny, and then i intended it to be jenny/anya, and then i was like....jenny has two goddamn hands, and there’s foreshadowing here for endgame giles/jenny, and i wanna write some giles/anya. let’s fuckin go. (DEFINITELY writing another installment in 2020 about this iconic ot3 of mine.) 

[btvs] spirit-touched (4,769 words) the first smut i write and it’s calendiles ghost sex. i really think this is on brand for me, esp. considering that swath of asks in 2016ish where everyone wanted to know if ghosts could jack off. incredible.

[btvs] dear friend (28,865 words) this fic had such a rushed ending :( it’s a cute premise (you’ve got mail giles/jenny au!!!!!), but i lost interest halfway through, and as a writer i can rlly see that when i read it. another thing i might like to go back and rewrite at some point, tbh!

[btvs] familiar (2,034 words) AUGH i am SO proud of this fic. SO SO PROUD. it’s a concept i really can’t explain and the little twist at the end is something i really really like, so...just read it.

[miss fisher’s murder mysteries] unbearable (5,670 words) i need to write more mfmm in 2020 but the amount of good fic out there is deeply intimidating/delightful. this one was my little “what if it was phryne who thought jack was dead” and tbqh i had a lot of fun with it? bc pining phryne (who makes brief but extremely poignant appearances throughout the series) is an awkwardly, heart-meltingly sincere lady.

[ace attorney] man’s duty to society (544 words) wrote this as my first foray into aa fic while getting emo about miles edgeworth. would absolutely still die for that man.

[ace attorney] fancy running into you (5,887 words) lots of schmoopy narumitsu fluff! gregory edgeworth is alive! miles is trauma-free! phoenix is an artist! just!!! goodness!!!!!!!

[ace attorney] big sister (2,741 words) set in the same gregory-edgeworth-is-alive ‘verse: babey franziska comes to live with miles and his dad. she is a little impossible but miles kinda does love her.

[ace attorney] prince charming edgeworth and his incredible tux (8,042 words) this fic came from me being like “i want to write phoenix swooning over miles in a tuxedo and being like HE LOOKS LIKE A DISNEY PRINCE” and spiraled into something much longer!

[ace attorney] fate, choice, and everything in between (4,384 words) SOULMATE AU. nothing i love more than deconstructing soulmate aus. but like. in a romantic way. also phoenix and miles ARE soulmates and that is JUST facts.

Favorite Fic: I WROTE SO MUCH STUFF THO LIKE !?!??! how can one expect me to distill it to just one fic? i’ll make it my top threeL

a california january (I AM SO PROUD OF THIS FIC. it is soft and angsty and silly and devastating and tender. all the calendiles feels.)

i still want to be your girl (same mood!!! i’ve wanted to write this fic for literal years, and it’s one of those rare occasions where the picture in my head actually turned out BETTER when written out!)

sunshine ladies (this is like my giles/jenny/anya ship manifesto and it still makes me happy to think about them all co-running the magic box together and smooching a lot.)

Hardest Fic: OOF uh i went through a rocky period of writing when transitioning into college? no such roses and dear friend were hit the hardest by my insecurity & my desire to Finish Things rather than actually spend time on the craft. but i’m much more settled in now and my writing is DEFINITELY in an upward swing (as my newest fic -- as day follows night -- attests to quite nicely, imo)

Do You Plan to Take Prompts in 2020? always always yes! (i’m bad at following through with them, but am ALWAYS accepting them.)

What was the best thing about 2019? there were almost too many good things to COUNT, but i think all of them were made possible by me working extremely hard to get myself the FUCK out of my abusive parents’ house and into my first choice college!! i’m thriving, y’all.

What was the worst thing about 2019? realizing that both of my parents are fundamentally terrible people. that part kinda sucked.

Any last thoughts for 2019? i finally understand what it’s like to fall asleep feeling safe, and to notice the way the leaves change color, and to get excited about self-indulgent things like food and cuddly stuffed animals and my own fic and art. 2019 brought a lot of happiness into my life, and oh yeah also i’m in love! lots of cool stuff going on.

Goals for 2020

finish the latest braveryverse installment!

MORE ART JUST IN GENERAL. i love drawing, but there’s not a lot of free time for artsy celia when they prioritize writing so often!

write one of the many incredible longfic ideas that’s floating around in my head. it’s honestly probably only like two or three big ones, but at least DECIDE which one i’m gonna focus my energy on.

more giles/anya this year!

more giles/jenny/anya this year!

diversify! still gonna be writing about jenny forever, but like. it might be fun to write about a few new things here and there.

maybe some more ace attorney fic? maybe even some mfmm fic again? phryne and jack are never far from my heart.

not tagging anyone bc this is....january. but if you wanna do it, feel free!

#fic #fic roundup #ngl i'm like really proud of this list #stayed up.....two hours....to complete it

[tonystarkficrecs]

Hey, i hate to bother you again, but have you seen endgame yet? Also do you have any really happy fics?

I have!! I’ll be doing my best to avoid spoiling anything for anyone and I’ll make another post about it, but if/when I rec any fics containing Endgame spoilers, I’ll be using the tags #endgame and #endgame spoilers. 

I’m putting the recs under a cut because this list grew really huge really fast (19 fics!!). They’re the happiest, fluffiest ones I can remember reading (and if that’s not enough, check out the fluff tag for more!). 

The (Not So) Great Pretender by RayShippouUchiha

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Words: 19,585

Pairing: James “Bucky” Barnes/Tony Stark

Completed: Yes

“What,” Tony says softly but with a great depth of feeling, “the actual fuck just happened?”

“I believe, Sir,” JARVIS pipes up from the phone in his pocket, an unnecessary amount of what sounds like glee in his voice, “that you’ve once again managed to maintain your closely guarded secret identity. Truly your subterfuge skills know no bounds.“

“You’re an asshole J,” Tony mutters back as he reaches up to rub at his temple. He either has a headache coming on or a blood clot. At this point he’s honestly not sure which he’d prefer.

“I did learn from the best, Sir,” JARVIS tells him sunnily.

i babysat god and he stabbed me with a fork by surveycorpsjean

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Words: 11,395

Pairing: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange

Completed: Yes

If these two idiots don’t sort out their shit real soon, Loki is going to stab everyone in this room and then himself.

What I Need I Just Don’t Have by gyzym

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Words: 2,199

Pairing: James Rhodes/Tony Stark

Complete: Yes

If you want this choice position, have a cheery disposition. (Or: Tony needs an assistant. Rhodey needs a break.)

Phil Coulson’s Case Files of the Toasterverse by scifigrl47

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Words: 287,890 (series)

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark (+various other pairings)

Completed: No (most works in series completed) 

Short stories from the Toasterverse, because the author gets panicky writing long form stories built around plot and has to finish something in order to function.

Phil has problems with these people. So does the Author.

Late Nights and Bare Bottoms by Shi_Toyu

★ ★ ★ ★

Words: 1,947

Pairing: James “Bucky” Barnes/Tony Stark

Completed: Yes

Tony stared down at the gingerbread cookies that’d been placed on the edge of the work station. It’d been the smell that’d drawn him out of his tunnel vision. He didn’t normally smell gingerbread in the middle of August. He blinked hazily, but the plate of cookies didn’t disappear. They were still warm, too, when he picked one up and bit into it.

God, and delicious. He moaned and stuffed the rest of the cookie into his mouth, already reaching for another one.

“You like them.”

Tony nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Bucky’s voice, but in a flat tone. The super soldier loomed behind his chair, hair a tangled mess and face completely blank. He was dressed in Clint’s ‘I love to rub my meat’ apron and what appeared to be nothing else.

“Uhhh… yes?”

don’t know why it took me so long to see by goodmorningbeloved

★ ★ ★ ★

Words: 11,209

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Completed: Yes

“Oh, watch this,” Natasha says, propping her chin against her knuckles and turning a sweet gaze on him. “Tony, what’s it like dating a superhero?”

Tony bristles in irritation. “We’re not dating,” he snaps. “Captain America probably thinks he can get into anyone’s pants just ‘cause he’s got a mask, costume, and reputation, but not me, buddy. That shield? Gotta be overcompensating for something.” He adds, a bit petulantly, “Oh, and all that blue? Definitely more Steve’s color than his.”

-In which Tony is a genius in all matters except recognizing his boyfriend past a mask.

No, He’s Your Son by orphan_account

★ ★ ★ ★

Words: 1,420

Pairing: Gen (pre Tony Stark/Stephen Strange)

Completed: Yes

peter, on the phone: dad i forgot my homework can you drop it off in the seminar hall it’s empty don’t worry

strange: ok

strange, walking out of a portal into a hall filled with students:

peter, loudly: EVERYONE IN THIS ROOM OWES ME FIVE DOLLARS I TOLD YOU MY DAD WAS A WIZA-

may the fourth by irnan

★ ★ ★ ★

Words: 1,762

Pairing: Gen

Completed: Yes

So there’s this project Tony has been working on since he was ten years old which is only marginally less awesome than the specs for the TARDIS he totally could have built if Fury would’ve just let him had the Tesseract for a couple hours longer.

Peter Parker’s Step-By-Step Guide to Get These Two Dumbasses to Kiss Already by everythingsace

★ ★ ★ ★

Words: 3,781

Pairing: James Rhodes/Tony Stark

Complete: Yes

Rhodes was on the floor, his legs pulled up beside him, and Mr. Stark was kneeling down beside him, asking questions and checking if he was okay.With the biggest heart-eyes he’d ever seen.Peter’s jaw dropped as he stared, his eyes turning to Rhodes, only to realize that he had the doe eyes, too. Not quite as bad and obvious, but holy shit.Holy shit.

Tony Stark is the Alyssa Milano by Akira_of_the_Twilight

★ ★ ★

Words: 1,388

Pairing: Peter Quill/Tony Stark

Complete: Yes

Prompt: Starkquill where somehow Drax was the first one to notice that Tony and Peter were into each other, but he’s been around humans for a while now and he understands that if you tell them things directly they’ll just do the opposite and ruin everything for everyone, so he’s going to get them together using… metaphors

“Kidnapped, enjoys space, likes your music, and can dance,” Drax listed off.

Peter grinned. “Yeah, pretty cool dude. I might actually miss him by the time we get him back to Earth.”

For a man who had been in search of a partner for as long as Drax had known him, Drax was surprised that Peter was unable to see his perfect match right before him.

Earthlings could be quite stupid sometimes.

Rocket Science by marsmaywander and orbingarrow

★ ★ ★ ★

Words: 12,094

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark

Completed: Yes

Sleep-deprived and under-caffeinated, grad student Tony falls asleep in a conveniently empty classroom and wakes up in the middle of Bruce’s Physics 101 course. After seeing a groggy Tony fumble a simple question, actual-student Bucky offers to tutor him. In a moment of “oh no; he’s cute” panic, Tony takes him up on it. Now, in addition to his already complicated life, Tony has to figure out the answer to the incredibly messy question: “How do you look like you’re failing the class, when you literally wrote the book?”

i stole the keys to this guy by kellifer_fic

★ ★ ★ ★

Words: 6,007

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Completed: Yes

Where it was Nick Fury’s idea, but he didn’t mean it like that.

The Tongues of Men and Angels by copperbadge

★ ★ ★ ★

Words: 2,369

Pairing: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

Completed: Yes

Extremis has a few unexpected benefits.

Pint-Sized Parker by flyingonfeatherlesswings

★ ★ ★

Words: 3,636

Pairing: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange

Completed: Yes

Tony is called away from a meeting to deal with a now toddler-aged Peter Parker, who went snooping around in Stephen Strange’s spells.

carpool introductions by sapphirestark

★ ★ ★

Words: 2,401

Pairing: Gen

Completed: Yes

“It’s - it’s nice to meet you too, Colonel Rhodes, sir. I’m Peter. Uh, Parker.”

“I heard.” Rhodey smiled. Well, teenage Tony had certainly never been this polite. “Just call me Rhodey, kid.”

“O-okay, Rhodey.” Peter’s timid smile transformed into a grin. Rhodey decided he would definitely rub that in Clint’s face the next time he claimed Rhodey wasn’t good with kids.

“Are you kidding me?” Tony interrupted from the driver’s seat. “He’s Rhodey after two minutes and you’re still calling me ’Mr Stark’?”

Angry Genius White Noise by copperbadge

★ ★ ★

Words: 520

Pairing: Tony Stark/Pepper Potts

Complete: Yes

One of Pepper’s favorite activities after a long day is putting on sci-fi movies and watching Tony dissect their bad science. He’ll happily spend two hours curled up against her and ranting about the flawed central plan in Armageddon and how REALLY, HE HOPES AN ASTEROID HEADS FOR EARTH, HE’LL SHOW HOLLYWOOD HOW TO REALISTICALLY AVOID AN EXTINCTION-LEVEL EVENT, DAMMIT. Pepper finds it oddly relaxing, like angry genius white noise. Add in Bruce, and she could sell tickets.

The More You Know by Nokomis

★ ★ ★

Words: 2,457

Pairing: Gen

Completed: Yes

Peter’s first post-mission Avengers hang out goes about as well as one would expect.

home is where the science is by IntrovertedOwl

★ ★ ★

Words: 2,566

Pairing: Gen

Completed: Yes

Tony wasn’t jealous.

The very idea was ridiculous. Laughable. Absurd.

In fact, he was pleased.

Yes, that’s what he was. Pleased. And a little smug.

But the Best of Men by lusilly

★ ★ ★

Words: 2,113

Pairing: Gen

Completed: Yes

In which Tony introduces a fifteen-year-old boy to Steve, and Steve is touched that Tony would introduce him to his son.

(Except he’s not Tony’s son, he’s the newest Avenger, and Tony’s just completely oblivious to how parental he’s become.)

#fic rec list #fanfic #marvel #avengers #tony stark #fluff #tony/happiness

[bokunoheroacafiction]

Aizawa x Reader - “Fiance, I Guess”

summary: The reader’s ex, Hawks, will be at the Heroes Gala -- the party Aizawa and reader is attending. In an effort to get him off her case, Aizawa poses as the reader’s fiance. (it is assumed that Hawks, Aizawa, & the Reader are the same age. I’m defying canon.)

word count: 1,799

pairing in this story: Aizawa x Fem!Reader, ex-Hawks

warnings: fluff. lots of it.

The Heroes Gala. A night that happens at least once a year where all the top heroes throw their money at a disaster relief cause or something. You have never been one for events like this, but your attendance was desired, as you are now a part of the top 50 heroes in Japan. You also never wanted to be one of the top 50 heroes -- you were never flashy, but you did your job and people noticed. So, you made the effort to put on the nicest dress you owned, and make it to this party.

You walked down the staircase to the ballroom, filled with Japan’s most notable heroes, your dress hugging your figure. Once you made your way through the crowd, you b-lined to the bar. You were not ready to stay here all night, and surely you were not planning to stay sober through the entire thing. You begin to sip on your drink when you see a certain yellow sleeping bag against the counter.

“...Aizawa?” you mutter, squinting at the tuft of black hair left out of the cocoon. You hear a groan, and see the zipper slide down as the man you knew very well peeked out.

“Y/N? Since when did you come to these things?” He said groggily, his voice raspy from being woken up so abruptly.

“Since I became the number 38 hero, Shota.” You sipped your drink again, smiling at your old friend from UA. “Surprised you still know my name, since you haven’t talked to me in months.”

“Y/N,” he sighs, “You know I’ve just been busy with students. I couldn’t ignore you if I wanted to.” His hand reaches out towards the bartender, silently requesting for the same drink as me.

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re my friend.” The word friend hits you in a weird way. Why do you feel a tight knot in your stomach? The two of you have been friends since UA, there’s no way that you--

The sound of wings closing cuts off your train of thought. I forgot he was going to be here, you thought as you turned around to find Hawks, your ex-boyfriend, entering the room.

“Shit shit shit shit shit,” you whisper to yourself. You can see Aizawa shift in his seat, angered at Hawks. Last time the two of you saw each other, Hawks had cheated on you with a civilian -- thus ending your very public relationship of two years. You never liked the public, but Hawks basked in it, knowing that one day he would be in this very position -- Number 2 Hero. It’s been 3 years since then, you have stayed out of the public eye for as long as possible. Well, until now.

Hawks makes eye contact with you, his eyebrows perking up from across the room. Aizawa can see how uncomfortable you were with all this -- he was there for you when Hawks announced publicly what happened, and made sure you were okay in the grieving process of it all. Hawks was your first love, after all -- for a reason that you don’t even remember why -- and it struck you hard when you ended up alone. Aizawa was there for you, so when he grabs your hand, you feel safer than you did seconds ago.

“Follow my lead,” he says in a whisper. His lead? You think to yourself, wondering where this could go, letting him pull you out of your seat and wrap his arm around your waist.

“Y/N!” Hawks says, sauntering over in your direction. You never liked how cocky he was, especially now in this attire. He acted like he was on top of the world, and was the world, and the sun… but you didn’t let that get under your skin as Aizawa’s fingertips pressed into your waist. “You look great, baby! Maybe we can go for one more round before the night is through, you know, spice up some tabloids.”

“Very funny, Keigo.” Aizawa retorts, pulling you closer to him. Out of instinct, you lean into his embrace,putting your hand on his chest. What is he doing?

Hawks looks at the two of you and laughs. “Y/N? With Aizawa? What a hoot! C’mon, babe, this can’t be for real.”

You shoot a look at Aizawa, who seems to have a fun smirk on his face. Confused, you turn back towards Hawks. “Yes. It’s real.” you say confidently.

Aizawa chuckles, looking at Hawks with that scary look that he makes. “Better yet,” he starts, “We’re engaged.”

Hawks’ mouth falls agape, causing him to stutter over his words. You begin to think Aizawa’s plan really had come through -- he was the closest person to you, and Hawks knew that when you were together. The plan was nearly fool-proof until he asked the burning question:

“Oh yeah? Then where’s the ring?”

Aizawa blankly stared at him. He didn’t know how to answer this. In your quick thinking, you rush to say,

“Aizawa and I are not public people. A hero with a ring on is bound to cause speculation. My dear Shota would be very uncomfortable with that information leaving his circle. Right, Shota?”

He looks down at you and smiles, kissing your head in the process. “You’re right, Y/N. We were never the type to use relationships to exploit ourselves.” He gives Hawks his cold, red-eyed stare, striking him to his very core. He pulls you in one more time, causing your chest to be flush with his. “Now I suggest you leave us alone. We have some enjoying ourselves to do.” And with that, the two of you made your way to the opposite side of the room to a table in the back corner not claimed by anyone else.

Once you both sit down, you sigh happily at him. “Who knew you could save my ass and look so hot while doing it, Shota? That was a real covert operation you had going there.”

You turned to look at him, and you could tell his face was flushed with a shade of deep pink. He kept looking at his hands, almost in disbelief.

“Uhhh… Aizawa?”

He perks up, looking back at you. “Yes?” his gravelly voice now quivered ever so slightly.

“Are you okay? You look like you just shook hands with the Queen or something.”

He quickly realizes his face is blushing, and he’s acting like he did at UA again. A shy, quiet boy who was afraid to go up to you first. Your quirk was so cool to him, yet he didn’t have the guts to say it until Mic accidentally screamed it during English class. After that, the three of you were thick as thieves; and even though he knew you very well, there were certain times where he would just clam up in front of you. But what was going on that made him act this way?

“Yeah, I just, um…” he looks around the room, hoping to find solace in PresentMic, who is nowhere near here yet. “Can I be honest with you”

You nod your head, crinkling your brow in intrigue.

“I hate how Hawks treated you.”

“Oh, I--”

“And it wasn’t because he was cocky, or a brat, or any of those things. It was because he went out of his way to hurt you by sleeping with someone else. The fact that he couldn’t see he had a good person in front of him and just blindly hurt her makes me wonder about his morals as a hero.” You sat there, eyeing up the hand that he left resting on the table. After a moment, you place your hand on top of his, prompting him to then turn his around and grab yours.

“And I sat with you, day after day, hoping that one day you would realize that he was never enough for you. We basically lived together, seeing each other every day for the entirety of the time we weren’t working. Cooking together, cleaning together, petting my cat together. It took awhile for you to be yourself again. But then you finally saw in yourself what I did. And you put your all into being a hero. I was proud.” His lips curled into a half smile, accentuating the scar on his cheek. Your heart was suddenly aching for him, hoping that he would say the words you’ve always wanted him to say.

“I never wanted to push you into anything,” he says, not making eye contact with you. “So I just waited for the perfect moment. That moment never came.”

“The moment to what?” You said, concerned with his sudden emotional outburst.

“The moment to tell you that I…” he sighed, finally lifting his eyes back up to you. “Y/N, I love you. I always have, and I always will.”

He stands up quickly, releasing your hand from his. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner.” He tries to run off, but you grab his arm before he can make a clean getaway.

“Shota,” you start, pulling him closer to you. You put one hand on his face, gently rubbing your thumb against his cheek. You adored him with his hair pulled back like this; you enjoyed seeing the curvature of his jaw, and looking at his whole face. As you looked around his face to find what he was thinking, your eyes landed on his. His eyes were shimmering with disbelief, and a little bit of hope for what was to come.

You finally leaned in towards him, lips almost touching, and spoke in a soft whisper,

“I love you too.”

Before you knew it, he had wrapped one arm around your waist and one hand in your hair, pulling you in tight as his soft lips moved against yours. The kiss was passionate and slow, both of you craving this moment for years and hoping it would last forever. Once you finally pulled apart, breathing heavy, the two of you smiled as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“So,” he said.

“So?” you replied.

“I guess this means that something is happening.” he says with a small smirk.

Just as you thought you were alone, you can hear the thud of a certain loud mouth’s boots against the floor.

“Hawks told me that you two are ENGAGED?” PresentMic near-yells, pulling everyone’s attention in your direction.

Aizawa looks at him with his red-eyes again, forcing PresentMic to be quirkless for a moment. But, he takes a deep breath; and as his hair falls back into place, he looks toward you with a smile.

“I’m officially your fiance, I guess.”

You kissed him again, this time for a short time, as smiled at him. “I’m not against it.”

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero x reader #my hero academia x reader #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bnha writing blog #mha imagines #mha scenarios #mha writing blog #mha x y/n #bnha x y/n #aizawa x reader #aizawa shota x reader #aizawa shota

[thelowlysatsuma]

Ramble in whatever form you choose. I won’t be able to be active all the time so if you want to be able to do it whenever you want I’d say text posts but I’ll also try to occasionally ask you about them so there’s some variety

!!! okay! well i think i’ll choose a couple from the list that i haven’t made many posts about before (aka no ts or go) and ramble on here!

oof under the cut bc idk how long this will get

steven universe

oh hon don’t even get me STARTED on su like that shit? that shit is so good? okay first of all i love the cast so much? gosh they’re just all so sweet and cool and sometimes they collab w/ thomas sanders and i love rebecca sugar and im gonna cry they’re so sweet im so soft

okay SECONDLY the show itself oof

okay okay im just? god im so soft?? like the music is so good, i can (and do) watch it w/ my parents, GOD do i wanna cosplay pearl’s new outfit (and rainbow 2.0, if i can pull it off), im in love with the concept and all the fusions and the story and the worldbuilding and god, this made me realize my utter love and adoration of COLOURS like they’re so PRETTY im in LOVE oh my gOD and just

god it has such a good message and such a good plot and such good characters i wanna be steven’s friend i wanna be all of their friends oh man i just can’t wait until my baby cousins are old enough for me to show this to them because i’m going to enjoy that experience so much

ducktales

oh jfc where the fuck do i even start with ducktales okay david tennant as scrooge mcduck makes my fucking life literally he’sthe best goddamn charaacter in the show – well, best besides the triplets (my BOYS), webby (!!! my KID), f e n t o n (god i love that nerd), mark beaks (what an asshole), mrs beakley (i wanna be her when i grow up), launchpad (!!! he!!), and so many others??? this is like serious every character in the show erasure but hot damn duck tales says gay rights and it does so in style (oh yeah also i love lena della donald oh webby’s new friend whose name i forget uhhh herules oh the inventor guy fenton’s boss that dipshit love him uhhh gandra dee who’s voiced by jameela jamil if im not mistaken??????) and yeah it’s a hilarious show but it’s also just a really good one for me to watch whenever i start to like. feel empty inside?? but then like i’ll put on ducktales and i’ll feel better

gravity falls

this show. this show RUINED ME. i started watching it like four years late (aka last year lmao) but GOD, im so in love with it. def another one i wanna show my cousins.

like?? just??? the ciphers and mysteries appeal so much to me and my love of mystery and crime novels, the characters are all amazing, alex hirsch himself is just such a g?? and like. it’s so good. it hurts me so much but then it’s all okay in the end and it’s just. it’s so good.

yeah i sobbed my eyes out when i watched that series finale.

camp camp, which somehow i forgot on my other list

god, is this show hilarious. like, fuck is it funny. it’s so good. it’s so fucking good. i was a little shocked when i saw the first episode but i’m so into it now, and i’m so attatched to all the characters bc they’re just dumbasses trying their best (or worst, in a few cases) and i love them for it. that’s peak fool energy right there and it speaks to me

orphan black

okay okay okay veering now into a much darker type of television, orphan black is??? phenominal???

okay so my best friend @fuck-me-gently-with-a-slurpee got me into it when i was like 14 or 15 i think and i honestly cannot thank her enough because this show is incredible. the plot’s super engaging, i literally cannot say anything about it without giving away spoilers, and the main character has quite possibly the best actor i’ve ever seen playing her

like. you think thomas sanders is good? he ain’t got SHIT on tatianna maslany

mythbusters

you guys. you guys. mythbusters was my childhood. like seriously, i watched that show religiously.

it’s what first got me into science, and it’s what kept me interested in explosions. it’s light and funny and ridiculous and scientifically accurate in the dumbest ways possible. i swear to god the main cast nearly dies once an episode

these guys are my idols. like, i seriously cannot overstate how much i love the mythbusters. adam and jamie, tori, kari, and grant.

when i was a kid, i wanted to be a mythbuster when i grew up, and god damnit, i still do. they mean that much to me

bill nye

fun fact! i actually had no fuckin clue who bill nye was until seventh grade, when i had to watch an episode of his show for homework because i missed a day of class. it was the episode on static electricity, and i remember sitting at my dining room table in the dim winter afternoon light, squinting at my computer, and thinking “what the FUCK am i WATCHING?”

needless to say, i’ve seen more since then, but that initial what the fuckery is still present and i love it.

not only is bill nye the science guy a flippin fantstic show, but bill nye himself? the coolest guy alive. god, i love him. what a g.

various comedians including but not limited to john mulaney,john oliver, and hasan minhaj

okay, as a gay, i am legally required to love john mulaney, but seriously that guy is so. fuckin. funny that i can’t help myself. his timing is priceless, the way he moves onstage is hysterical, just. god i love his stuff.

literally his comedic timing and style is half the reason people find me funny. i just phrase my sentences the way he would because, you know, i’m good at stealing things, and people laugh, and i go “hey. that actually worked”. and then i keep doing it

next, john oliver. okay, so while i don’t watch his show religiously, i do watch it when my parents do every now and again, and fuck is his stuff funny. like. just. shit.

finally, hasan minhaj’s patriot act is just. one of my favourite current events comedy shows out there. it’s in a similar vein to john oliver’s stuff, just more international, and shit, is he good at what he does. i lvoe it.

hoodwinked the movie (i am dead serious)

okay, while i haven’t seen it in over four years, this is still my favourite movie of all time. it also has one of my favourite villain songs of all times, and some of the best character exchanges just. ever. especially with wolf and twitchy

...god, i love twitchy. also the goat. i’m probably gonna be the goat when i grow up, let’s be honest

one day at a time

i just.

there’s so much to say about odaat. like. it’s so funny. it makes me nearly cry every episode (and makes my mother actually cry every episode). the characters, god, the characters

like. alex is such a cute dumb kid (who’s smarter than he looks), penelope is so salty constantly and i love her but she’s genuinely so cool and such a good mom and i cry??? elena is so amazing like god she’s such a fuckin nerd but she’s also so salty (takes after her mom) and is literally the best????

and then there’s abuelita, whom i adore. like, god, rita moreno is SO cool and SUCH a great actress and has SUCH an amazing sense of comedic timing and GOD, i LOVE HER

can’t forget about syd and doc berkowitz, which like. okay first off the good doc. just. god i love the doc. he’s so sweet and such a genuinely good dude and he’s a bit of a coward at heart but that’s okay because he genuinely cares and does his best and god he’s just such an amazing character im !!!!! and then syd is such a dork and i love them and elena and god, it made me so happy to see not only an actual enby character on a big sitcom, but also just?? like??? it’s not forced but it’s still there??? like there’s one episode where one of the plots is just syd and elena trying to figure out what elena should call them, since neither of them are comfy using “girlfriend” for syd since they’re not a girl, and they finally agree on “significant other” and schneider imMEDIATELY says “dont you mean, SYDnificant other?” and then they use that for the REST OF THE SHOW IT”S SO CUTE OKAY

and finally, schneider. he might be my favourite character in the entire show (which is a damn hard list to pick from!!!), but he’s just. he’s so sweet, he and penelope have one of the absolute best male/female friendships i’ve ever seen (which! never! turns! romantic! ever!!!), he’s actually got surprising depths but he’s also like such a nice goofball that when they get revealed, it hurts, and he’s just this canadian dumbass (heyyyyy repreSENT) with the worst goddamn canadian accent sometimes and he’s a hipster and The Dumb Friend and the weird uncle all rolled into one and GOD, i love him so much

the good place and brooklyn 99

okay, i love these two both so, so much, but i’m lumping them together because a) they’re both mike schur shows with a similar sense of humour, that say gay rights, and with characters who’d definitely love each other if they met and b) my hand is getting tired from all this typing but i still have so much  love to go around!!!!

okay so so SO! they’re both so good. they’re so fucking funny and amazing and i was immediately hooked on both of their pilots. their characters are all so genuine and flawed and fucking hysterical to watch, and the ships and friendships are all so amazing and pure and good and soft and they have their problems and they WORK THEM OUT HEALTHILY AND IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY OKAY!!!

god, i literally cannot overstate how much i adore these two shows. mike schur, you’re a wonderful, wonderful dude. thank you so much

many musicals (top faves include BOM, hamilton, legally blonde, chicago, matilda, and more!)

i’m putting the musicals together because while i do adore each and every one of them individually, i also just have great big deep-seated love of the art of musical theatre itself in general, ya feel?

like, as someone who’s been both performing and viewing them from a very young age, the sheer sense of utter joy they bring is almost unparalleled

not to be That Bitch who quotes musicals, but “and that hop in our hearts as the overture starts lets us know how lucky we are” might be the closest i’ve ever gotten to finding words to fit the feeling when the lights go down and the show begins. it’s simply phenomenal

the others series by anne bishop

okay, OKAY, if you haven’t read this series (first book called written in red – they have terrible titles but god, they’re worth it), then what are you doing with your life? like, not only is there the perfect logicality au to them (just sayin’), but god, it’s such an incredible series

the worldbbuilding is so cool and the characters are all great and god the ships are the damn hill i die on it’s got literally such a good “sort of enemies mostly just dislike each other to reluctant acquaintances to friends to lovers” ship and it deals with some serious issues rlly well and it’s got baby puppies!!!

like, they’re wolf puppies, but still, they are b a b e y

and finally (for now, at least), the mysterious benedict society, by trenton lee stewart

this book series was my childhood. i mean, there are so many other books i could be talking about right now that i utterly adore (the artemis fowl series springs to mind), but gosh, MBS just brings me such absolute joy to read that i just had to have it on here.

i’m not thinking straight at this point in the evening, but i just wanna say that i will never, not ever forget about reynie. about kate. about sticky. about constance. about rhonda and number two and milligan and miss perumal and my absolute son sq pedalian and, of course, i will never, never forget about mr benedict

it’s bright, and it’s bittersweet, and it’s beautiful.

and it’s good. simply, utterly, wonderfully good.

thank you for the ask, anon.

thank you.

[milkandhoneyoongi]

tale as old as time (jungkook scenario)

request: Can I request a Jungkook angst scenario where you guys date to hide Jungkook’s actual relationship to the public but you have feelings for him and he doesn’t love you back?? If that makes sense?? Thank youuuuuuuuuuuu

a/n:  uhhh, i literally loved this prompt?  honestly it was so hard not to write this in a way that was heteronormative and/or gender neutral but i do believe i succeeded, and i’m really happy with it.  it’s angst throughout, no happy ending, but sometimes there aren’t happy endings, u know?  

you can always send me a request here and view my old imagines here

genre: angst

word count: 2,338 words

warnings: heartbreak?  nothing else.

      It felt like the beginning of some fairytale.  Some men in business wear arrived on your doorstep, presenting a contract of sorts asking you to pretend to date your childhood best friend.  This certainly wasn’t how you’d anticipated reconnecting with Jungkook, but it paid well and you were between jobs.  Plus, they were offering you living in Seoul.  How could you turn them away?

It was certainly a strange feeling, to agree to “date” Jungkook through the strict terms of a binding agreement, but you figured it was worth a shot.  You hadn’t seen him in years.

You had asked them why, but they kept their mouths tightly sealed, simply handing you a pen to sign on the line agreeing to the terms..  

Jeon Jungkook is a person of high social status whose emotional as well as physical well being is of much importance to not only BigHit Entertainment Co., Ltd but the country of South Korea as a whole.  By signing on the below line you are agreeing to cover as his significant other and remain a neutral presence in his life.  You will do as Jeon Jungkook and/or BigHit Entertainment Co., Ltd ask, and should the terms of this agreement be deemed violated in anyway the agreement will be nullified and your accommodations and privileges as granted through this agreement will be revoked.  

And then you signed your life away.

The flight to Seoul was fast, especially considering you were expecting a long drive or a train ride.  It was on the flight in the small plane that you realized what you were signing up for.  You were going to date your childhood best friend.  You shrugged.  It’d make an interesting story, for sure.

You weren’t expecting a plane, but you got one.  You weren’t expecting Jungkook to be waiting on the runway when you landed, but you got that, too.  He had a confusing expression on his face, like he was happy but mostly his head was somewhere else.

“Y/N!” He called to you, waving and grinning.  

You waved back happily as a manager leaned down to speak into your ear.  “You will ride in his car back to your new apartment.  We figured media seeing him picking you up from the airport would be a good way to introduce them to your relationship.”

You turned up to him, eyebrows knit together.  “Oh it starts now?”

“It started the moment you signed,” the manager answered.

When you reached Jungkook he immediately pulled you into your arms.  “How are you, Y/N?”

“I’m good, Jungkook.  It’s been a long time since we last saw each other.”  You laughed, pulling away and ruffling his hair as it had grown so long.  It was dyed a pale magenta, strewn on his forehead in soft curls.  He looked good.

“I know, two weeks is a long time,” he winked, walking you to your side of the car and opening the door for you before walking to the driver’s side.  It had been three years.

His managers put your bags in his trunk and the moment Jungkook’s door closed you let out a deep breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” you blinked, “I guess I just didn’t expect this to be so sudden.  I was in my house in Busan just… hours ago.  Now I’m in a car with my best friend from when I was little whom I haven’t spoken to in three years and, oh by the way, he’s pretending to be my boyfriend.”

“I know, it’s a lot.  Thank you, though,” he turned to you and smiled.  “When they proposed the idea of having someone pretend to date to cover… you know, I thought of you first.  I couldn’t imagine fake dating anyone else.”

You jokingly brought your hand to your heart, “Why thank you.”  Part of you felt comfortable around him, but another part of you remembered what you had agreed to.  You had agreed to be superficial for the first time in your life.  

You were being paid to be someone else.

“Oh, you’re coming in?” You asked when you realized his car was parked outside your apartment.  

“It’s what would look best,” he nodded.  “Have to help you unpack!”  You hummed in agreement, going to get your bags but Jungkook stopped you.  “I’ll get the heavy ones.”  You gave him a questioning glare.  “Look you just have to follow my lead here.”

“Alright,” you laughed, allowing him to lug your heavy suitcases to the elevator.  You found yourself gaping at the apartment they had you set up in.  Jungkook giggled at your expression, bringing your bags to your room and coming back into the living area.  

“Nice, right?” You turned to him.

“This is too nice.” You shook your head.  “I was not expecting this.”

“You’re ‘dating’ royalty, ‘jagiya’,” he emphasized the heavy quotes on his words, another chuckle rolling from his tongue as he leaned against the counter.  

“I like your hair that color,” you spoke.

“Thanks, there’s a comeback soon.”  You knew all about his new lifestyle of changing his hair and clothes once or twice a year to release an album, but you allowed him to explain all the ways his life has changed from the one he had in Busan.  He was twenty, now, and years had done him nothing but good.  He was filled out in all the right places, his aging face with a lighthearted youth at which you couldn’t help but grin.  

Oh no.

Your fake dates were fun.  One time he had taken you to the park and you just walked and talked about your days.  He had bought you a tea, which you appreciated, and you enjoyed the scenery and the beautiful weather.  Other times you’d go to his dance practice and watch him work.  Sometimes you had so much fun you forgot it was your literal paying job.  You liked to forget about it, though.  It made things easier.

Where Jungkook once led the fake relationship, you had meetings during the day sometimes with different managers about where you could improve your facade, the cracks in your act that you could seal up.  Things like wearing his clothes on occasion, commenting on almost every social media post pertaining to him, and even giving him kisses on the cheek when you were about.  

You were quite good at pretending to date him, but maybe it was just because it would be a lot harder for you to pretend you didn’t want to.

Maybe it was just because you had faked it so well that you… well… made it.  But part of you knew that this would happen.  The part of you that read the terms so carefully to be sure it didn’t include: Do not actually fall in love.

So you still hadn’t technically violated the terms of the agreement.

You still didn’t know why the agreement had to be made.  For publicity?  To direct the public’s attention from something else?  Whatever it was, it was working.  As much as you had fallen for Jungkook, the media had fallen for you: Jungkook’s hometown sweetheart.

However, Jungkook’s mutual feelings in public were quite the opposite in private.  When you two went on “dates” he would be texting someone else.  Someone who made his cheeks flush and heart race.

Too soon you had realized why you were there. A coverup.

In your mind, Jungkook was your friend, first, fake boyfriend, second.  But if he hadn’t told you the true reason for your presence there, in his mind you must have been his fake, insignificant other—period.

You had no idea what to do.

After about a month you realized you had helplessly fallen for your… client?  You were a paid actor technically, and you were acting for Jungkook’s benefit.  Client.  You were trapped in a contract that explicitly stated you were to remain a neutral presence in his life or whatever that meant.  It was funny, the other members noticed quite quickly, but Jungkook never did.

Your eyes held this starlight in them whenever he spoke to you that the other members noticed.  Your laugh held this heart that nobody could fake.  They knew of his secret lover, and they knew you were the coverup, but they liked being around you better anyway.  They liked being around Jungkook when he was around you better.

So you had a crush on him, so what?  It only hurt your heart to be around him knowing he could never feel the same way so long as he was with someone else.  What did your pain even mean if it meant 1) serious money and 2) seeing Jungkook almost every day?

“You two should fake break up,” Yoongi had said quite casually to you once, and you nearly spit out your drink.  “It’s not good for you.  To continue to ‘pretend’ to love him when we all know you really love him.”

You looked down, feeling a flush grace your cheeks at how he was able to read the situation so well.  “I don’t.”

“For someone who is being paid to act like you’re dating someone, you’re bad at lying,” he laughed.  “I won’t tell him.  None of us will.  Unless Jimin gets drunk, maybe he’d tell then.”  You felt tears start to well in his eyes.  Yoongi knew Jungkook well, and here he was acting like Jungkook could never fall for you.  You knew it, but to have it confirmed felt like a heartbreak in and of himself.  “Y/N, you’re incredible.  You don’t deserve this hurt.”

“I signed up for it,” you chuckled darkly.  “I should have known it would have happened.  I did know it was going to happen.”

“You just didn’t think it would happen like this,” Yoongi nodded.  Somehow, even though he could never possibly relate to your situation, he knew how you felt.  

But you stuck around, and through the days you made more connections through Jungkook and your entire life was living and breathing for this boy.  But then his secret relationship ended.

“Y/N, you might as well just go home,” he had grumbled one night, his throat tight and tears threatening to spill from his eyes.  He didn’t tell you what happened, but he didn’t have to.  You knew.  “Not your apartment.  To Busan.  I’m gonna tell them to call all of this off.  I don’t need it anymore.”

You knew he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, but you didn’t expect to be this expendable to him.

“What do you mean?” You asked, sitting next to him.  

“There’s no cameras here; You don’t need to act like you care.”  He whispered the words but it felt like he was screaming at you, his words revealing everything about him that only the smallest part of you knew.

“I’ve never been acting like I care, Jungkook-ah,” you frowned.  “You were always my friend.”

“You were paid to be my friend.” His words were true but that only made them hurt more.  “A friendship that’s built to be the biggest lie I’ve ever told is no friendship at all.”

“I’ll just give you some space,” you murmured.  “You need to think.”

“Y/N, there is nothing for me to think about.  I’m sorry if you got an impression that this was anything more than a fake relationship, but the person I really loved just left me alone and I’m not in the mood to pretend that I care for you anymore.” You winced

“You’re really alone… If I’m right here?” He didn’t answer, so you got up and left, shoulders slumped and lips sealed.

Your walk back home turned into a walk to the train station which turned into a train ride home.  

From Jungkook Y/N-ah, where did you go? From Jungkook I’m sorry.  You’re my best friend, Y/N.

From Yoongi You know this isn’t what I meant.   From Yoongi Please end things on a better note.

You couldn’t bring yourself to text either of them back, locking your phone and watching the sun set outside the window of your car, tears brimming your eyes as you thought about the life you had built, or well, BigHit had built for you, in Seoul just to return home so soon.  

From Jungkook Y/N, why did my managers just tell me you quit? From Jungkook Please talk to me.

You frowned reading his messages.  You wished he had remained cold toward you.  It would have made things easier.  Instead, he was being sweet and treating you with respect you knew you deserved, which only made you fall even harder.

To Jungkook I have to go home.  You were right. To Jungkook I should never have agreed to be paid to do something I would have volunteered to do.  Fake or real, it was  great being with you for a little while.  

From Jungkook Y/N what does that mean?

To Jungkook I love you, Jungkook. To Jungkook Agreement or not.  Cameras or not.  “Jagiya” or not.

From Jungkook Oh.

To Jungkook Don’t feel any pressure.  I only tell you this so you understand why I could not continue to pretend my love for you was fake. To Jungkook You don’t lie to those whom you love.

You could see the look on his face as he started typing and then stopped, and the started typing and stopped again.  And then started typing again for the last time, and then stopped for the last time.

He didn’t have a proper response for you, but you knew that was because he never would have one.  Because he was a caring person, and would hate to tell you that he could never feel the same way that you felt about him.  Especially not after the heartbreak he had just experienced.

And so your relationship ended like that, on you spilling your heart out to the boy whom you loved, holding back tears as you swallowed your fairytale that didn’t quite end as you had hoped, but ended just as you had expected it to.

#bts #bts scenario #bts reaction #bts fanfic #jungkook angst

[pinksausageduo]

us + our cat = our little family

member: kang daniel  genre: fluffy summary: you’re spending your holidays working at a pet rescue centre what happens when a gorgeous random guy comes and adopts your favourite kitten? requested: yes

it was the summer holidays and you were staying with your grandparents at their beach house

you loved it your grandparents were the best

you were walking around the area where you see a pet rescue centre which was opening for temporary hiring

the moment you saw it you dashed into the rescue centre

the thing is you absolutely adored animals

but unfortunately your dorm didn’t allow pets which is why you never got a pet

you took nearly any chance to be with animals

but around your area there was no pet shops or rescue centres so cri no animals

you talked to the manager telling him you'll be here for around two months and after a brief interview he hired you

the pay was low but you were fine with it since you had no friends and you had nothing to do except go to the beach and do homework

*one month later*

the job at the rescue centre was amazing

your job was to take care of animals and nurse them back to health

if you weren't at the rescue centre you were at the beach or studying

at the rescue centre you've basically adopted one of the cats

she was so cute and adorable and you do not get how she was abandoned on the street

she was super young and sooo cuddly and had fluffy grey and white fur 

when she was first brought in she was so skinny and bony and she looked so sick

you nursed her back to health and she became very attached to you 

you were the only one that she’d be fine with cuddling and petting 

she’d usually nip someone else if they try to 

you loved her so much and you couldn’t bear the thought of parting with her or her getting adopted by someone else other than you

since you rescued her on the night of the full moon you named her luna

one day your grandma got sick and your grandpa was out of town

so you called the rescue centre saying you couldn’t come in today

they were completely fine with it wishing your grandma a speedy recovery

you nursed her back to health for a date which mostly consisted her of pestering you about not getting a boyfriend lol grandma wait like two weeks she’ll have on by then

and her sharing stories from when she was younger and talking about your and her life in general 

she got better the next day so you went to work  

when you arrive at work your coworker who you were pretty close to you came running up to you, panting even though she barely ran that is me

she huffed her sentence out 

“luna is going to be adopted by this guy that came in yesterday, he played with her and stayed at the centre for a while and unlike everyone else she didn’t nip him once and cuddled and played with him”

“WHAT??!!!” you screamed (not too loudly tho because you didn’t what to get fire)

your thoughts running a million miles an hour 

who is this guy and how bloody dare he try to adopt luna

and why is luna so nice him cause you and him are soulmates

after freaking out and getting mad 

you realised you were never gonna adopt luna in the first place

and she deserves a loving caring owner

you went to see her so you can cuddle with her one last time before she gets adopted

when she saw you she meowed and you scratched her chin and you started patting her she purred happily

you held her close and you said to her “yah, luna apparently you were being nice to this random guy, do you not love me anymore”

luna in perfect timing nudged your finger in a way to say no

you smiled sweetly and kept on talking

“but i’m glad you’re going to a loving and caring owner, i wonder what he’s like? who is he?”

just at that moment you heard a cough, you whisked your head around

and there was a guy around your age, you won’t deny it 

he was gorgeous

with light brown tousled hair and warm brown eyes

he also had the cutest smile ever

your heart couldn’t help skipping a beat 

“that’ll be me?” he said answering with a cute smile and his hand up 

his hand was also rubbing his neck so you could see his defined arm muscles and his broad shoulders

you internally died who wouldn’t tho

“hey, my name is daniel and you must be the employee who cares for luna, it’s nice to meet you” he said while approaching you

“hi daniel, my name is y/n, i’ve been caring for luna since she came to the rescue centre, uhhh by the way did you hear all that?” you replied blushing 

he cheekily grinned “yup i did, it’s cute though but you’re welcome to visit luna anytime-wait let me give you my address” he quickly scribbled down his address and gave it to you

you stuttered “th-thank you so much, it really means a lot”  

you then beamed up at him which made him blush cutely

“you could also visit me as well” he said with a flirtatious wink

you blushed so hard and you couldn’t calm your racing heart

“that would be really nice, thanks daniel” you said with a sweet smile

he slightly blushed because he couldn’t help but appreciate how good his name sounded when you said it

he thought snap out of it daniel you just met just don’t make a fool out of yourself ignore the butterflies and keep the conversation going 

“but i’m only staying near here for one more month since i need to get back to university” daniel said in an apologetic voice 

“oh it’s fine, i need to go back to uni after a month too, which one do you go to?” you replied

“yonsei university” he said a bit hopefully

“wait actually so do i?!” you exclaimed

 “really?! then you can sometimes visit my apartement which i share with my roomate seongwoo and can visit luna.” he said grinning 

“wait, you’re daniel, seongwoo’s best friend, this is crazy, seongwoo is one of my best friends he’s always talking about you and how much we should meet” you said with a chuckle thinking of seongwoo’s crazy antics

“haha, you must be y/n he always talks about how great you are. he’s right by the way but he forgot to mention how beautiful you are.” he said smirking lightly as you blushed tomato red

YES SMOOTH DANIEL!! he basically screamed internally and damn she looks so cute blushing he thought and before he knew it words came tumbling out of his mouth

“uhhhh y/n are you free tonight? because if you are, do you want to come over at like 6 and we can have pizza and play with luna?” he asked nervously losing all the confidence he had 0.2 seconds ago 

“is this a date?” you asked teasingly to try and mask your absolute smile of joy

“no-uh-maybe uhh actually yes?” daniel rambled

“get me margherita pizza it’s my favourite, here’s luna, i’ll see you tonight” you said with a cute little wink while passing over luna

luna meowed as you passed her over to daniel, his face lightened up and eskimo kissed luna and then he beamed at you

your heart just melted because they looked so adorable

after you handed luna over, you basically ran out of the room because if you didn’t you probably would of died because your heart was beating that fast

*date night*

since it was a really low key date you tried to look cute but didn’t try too hard

you wore these black high waisted loose shorts with a cropped flowy top which was off the shoulder and your hair was down in beachy waves

you rung the doorbell at exactly 6 

daniel opened the door and damn he looked so good

in a tight white t shirt which was accentuated his shoulders and black basketball shorts 

he grinned at you his adorable bunny smile and commented

“wow, couple outfits huh? but you look gorgeous” 

“you don’t look too bad yourself” you said with a playful smirk

he invited you in and told you to make yourself comfortable and that’ll he get pizza and drinks

you snuggled into the couch wrapped in fluffy blankets and you heard a meow

it was luna you grinned and played with her and petted her

daniel was just admiring you and luna and how cute you guys looked

he sat down very close to you and set the pizza down, margherita of course, and the two cokes

you smiled at him and said “you remembered” “of course i did”

he looks at you and you realise how close your faces are 

but of course luna ruins the moment by butting in and laying on daniel’s lap

you see his face light up and he plays with her and pets her adorably 

then you start fighting for luna’s attention and it just ends up with luna being super confused and conflicted on who to go to 

daniel and you kept on playfully shoving each other and sticking your tongues out

one time as you were about to shove daniel he leans back too much and you end up on top of him

he smirks at you and you blush

and before you know it he’s leaning in and you are as well

the kiss was soft and gentle at first but then it became more rough and passionate as daniel deepened the kiss 

he took the lead and before you know it you ended up making out

you both stopped for air and both of you grinned at each other

you suggest “how about we watch the movie” because if you kept on going you don’t think you guys could stop 

he nods and turns on the tv 

he wraps his arm around you and you lean into his shoulder

as the movie goes on you end up full on cuddling with him 

you and him taking turns on giving luna pats and holding hands

whispering comments about the movies in each other ears

daniel occasionally kissing you on the forehead really sweetly and you grinning back up at him

the movie ends and you’ve finished all the food 

you both leave because he insists walking you home as you reach your front doorstep he kisses you super softly 

“goodnight, sweetheart” he whispers, his warm gorgeous brown eyes staring into yours

you blush and smile back at him and peck his cheek “sweet dreams daniel”

anyways these type of nights become super regular

you introduce him to your grandparents and your grandpa and especially your grandma heartily approve

you both love luna so much and you’re so happy he was the one who ended up adopting her

you become properly official after two weeks after a lot beach dates and midnight cuddles with luna 

you both return back to university which just ends up with seongwoo teasing both of you constantly 

you, him and luna are just like a small adorable family that loves each other so much

JUST WANT TO SAY THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 230 NOTES ON MY GUANLIN SCENARIO!!! like what i do not understand you guys are amazing thank you sooooo much i loveeee you all. i’m trying to post everyday to try and build my blog a bit, even though i only have three pieces of writing do you think i should do a masterlist? also i completely give up on short bullet point scenarios because i always feel like something’s missing. so here’s another long one BUT GIVE LUNA SOME LOVEE!

#wanna one #produce 101 #produce 101 season 2 #wanna one imagines #wanna one scenarios #produce 101 imagines #produce 101 scenarios #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kang daniel #daniel #wanna one daniel #kang daniel scenarios #kang daniel imagines #ong seongwoo #daniel+cats will be the death of me

[scrapyardboyfriends]

3 August 2017

[Outside Keeper’s Cottage with Robert and Victim]

MR. SHIFTY: *On the phone with a presumably shady contact because Robert’s not allowed to have friends* #Nostalgia

VICTIM: Hey! Just being nosy! What are you up to?

ROBERT: Nearly getting caught doing something shady apparently.

VICTIM: Oh, well at least I almost caught you outside my house because the audience needs to be blatantly reminded that you’re living here now because I, a known Plot Victim, decided that’s what was best.

ROBERT: Thanks for pointing that out *Aaron Face*

VICTIM: Hey, I came up with a cute acronym for your mopey Aaron moments to try and get the fans to like me more!

ROBERT: Seriously?

VICTIM: Yeah, MAG, Massive Aaron Grump! You having one now?

ROBERT: Nope, I’m having a MAD, Massive Aaron Dilemma, because I bought these festival tickets back before the Plot destroyed us and now I don’t know what to do about them.

VICTIM: Oh hey, I’m working this festival with the Diddy Diner, you know that business I still apparently run even though it’s not been mentioned in ages. You are soooo not a festival person!

ROBERT: Yeah, I would hate every minute of it but, as everyone is aware, I would do literally anything for Aaron so...and now, well, they’re here.

VICTIM: But you’ve split up?! #CaptainObvious

ROBERT: Cheers for the reminder...I think even the most casual of viewers are aware of that particular Plot Point at this stage. No need to rub it in. But should I ask him anyway? It seems so unfair to the fans to deprive them of this potentially super fluffy scenario. They’ve had so much taken from them already.

VICTIM: What’s the worst that could happen? #Whiplash (FANDOM: Who are you these days?!?! Do you even know from scene to scene?) - No -

ROBERT: Well he could think I’m a stalker and I think everyone got enough of that nonsense during the Finn/Kasim Plot that no one speaks of anymore. Adam and Paddy were all telling me stay far far away yesterday even though it’s like they’ve only just remembered that Aaron exists now that I’m out of the picture. Plus, you, you hypocrite, telling me to forget about him and return to my selfish and self serving ways the other day!

VICTIM: Uhhh...Plot Victim here! Besides, when have you ever bothered to listen to anyone else...besides maybe Aaron.

ROBERT: *I think that was a green light Face* *The Plot is still going to screw me over somehow with this isn’t it Face*

[The Portacabin with Aaron and Robert]

ROBERT: *Knock Knock Knock* - this feels weird and no one is answering so I guess I’ll just go in -

AARON: Did you actually just knock?

ROBERT: Well I wasn’t sure if you wanted me here?

AARON: *Matching elbow patches on display..well sort of...they’re the closest to elbow patches Aaron has ever gotten and it’s adorable okay* Well you do work here because even though we’re not together, apparently we’re still inseparable. Also...you just came in anyway?! *Laughs*

*Awkward Silence*

ROBERT: Right, well, now that your bodyguard isn’t here to speak for you, can I ask you about your eye? Are you fighting?

AARON: No...I’m talking to you and for once, now that we’re over, we’re not fighting. Hey maybe we can trick the Plot if we say we’re over but we’re not…

ROBERT: That’ll never work, besides, we’re over and we still can’t have an #ActualConversation

AARON: I have a Boxing Plot okay. I was sweaty the other day, the fans really enjoyed it. So...why are you here anyway? Did you actually come to do some work?

ROBERT: Of course not, the Plot has no need for me to do my job right now. No, I’m here cause I got these tickets in the mail.

AARON: The festival. You said you couldn’t think of anything worse…

ROBERT: Well I can now #TheHellPlot #Relatable #SpeakingForTheFandom Well you can still go if you want but I thought I’d awkwardly ask you if I could come with you, which you know wouldn’t be weird at all. Separate tents of course cause you know if we had one we’d probably end up cuddling or you know...our other favorite thing…

AARON: Yeah...I mean...yeah you can come, suppose... The fans would like it. (FANDOM: You’re gonna snatch this away from us later aren’t you because there was no festival in the spoilers) Well I better go and get back to my Boxing Plot.

ROBERT: Everyone’s told me to be selfish, but I still care and want you to be careful.

AARON: I’m fine Robert. Uncle Zak is training me.

ROBERT: Oh, thanks for that tidbit of information. Might come in handy.

AARON: *Nods* *Awkwardly leaves*

ROBERT: *Why aren’t we back together Face*

[The Cafe with Robert and Zak]

ROBERT: I’ve seen Aaron’s eye, and I’m not just talking about that scene we were both in yesterday. Anyway, I don’t like it.

ZAK: Did you two break up? I swear I heard that somewhere.

ROBERT: Yeah, but until the Plot won’t let me anymore, I still care.

ZAK: You could just cheer him on. I feel like your fans would like that.

ROBERT: Probably, but they also want Aaron to be safe almost as much as I do.

ZAK: But exercise is a good thing!

ROBERT: Zak, let me catch you up on Aaron’s Self Harm Plots over the years, one of them involving running himself into the ground and hospital. There’s a bit of a pattern here and I would hate to see him repeat that.

ZAK: That’s not gonna happen, right?

ROBERT: Well if it does, it’s on you!

ZAK: *I don’t want that kind of responsibility Face*

[The Woolpack with Aaron, Zak and Victim]

VICTIM: Robert said you were going to festival, Aaron! I’m putting on my Shipping crown again for the moment. Remember when I was super invested in keeping you guys together. The fans really loved me then.

AARON: Miss that version of you too. But...yeah...Robert got the tickets and awkwardly asked me out and I said yes cause the audience needs to know that I haven’t written him off completely.

VICTIM: Well, I will of course be there, giving you free snacks! What could be better?

AARON: I can’t eat your muck. I’m training! Right Zak? #NoObsessiveTendenciesHere

ZAK: The odd dirty burger won’t hurt you I suppose.

VICTIM: Stop mocking my business that everyone forgot about!!! *Victim leaves*

AARON: Great, now that she’s gone, we can go. Can we go now, please! #NoObsessiveTendenciesHere

ZAK: Can’t, I’m just going to eat so I can stall for a bit for...reasons I can’t discuss.

[The Woolpack with Aaron, Zak and Victim]

VICTIM: Can I get you some carbs?

AARON: No I’m good. (FANDOM: But carbs, like toast, are your favorite! And you’re literally always eating in every scene and now you’re turning down food...Is something wrong...besides you know...the Plot?) So...Zak, I can see that you’re totally stalling. What’s up? Are you bored of this Plot already?

ZAK: Yeah, that’s it. Let’s go with that. #NotAGoodLiar

AARON: Hmm..yeah...I don’t believe you at all. The Plot’s behind this somehow isn’t it?

ZAK: *Get’s out script from scene with Robert* Well, it’s just sometimes you tend to overdo it like that Self Harm Plot you had with the running…

AARON: *Grab’s script* Are you just reading Robert’s lines?

ZAK: Maybe? But he really does have your best interests at heart. I’m sure of it.

AARON: *Conflicted Face*

**Meanwhile, shady things are going on at Home Farm and that’s probably no coincidence** #IfYouExpectTheWorstOfSomeoneThat’sWhatYou’llGet #MrShifty

[The Woolpack with Robert, Sam, Charity and Aaron]

SAM: Have you seen Lydia?

ROBERT: She’s not in my immediate circle or related to my unfortunate Plot, so I have no idea who that is. (FANDOM: Stop crushing all of our Lydia/Robert dream scenarios!)

*Robert and Charity Banter* - for the fans - (FANDOM: We’ll take anything these days)

*Aaron enters*

ROBERT: Charity, while you’re doing your literal job so quit complaining, can you also get Aaron a pint? I mean...er...umm...if you want one that is. Damn, I hate that I’m all unsure around you now. #AreWeBackTogetherYet

AARON: No, I’m not eating or drinking today. No one should be concerned. Speaking of being concerned...I hear you don’t want me running or training.

ROBERT: *Confused Face* I don’t think we had that scene...I would have remembered...I treasure every moment with you.

AARON: No, you had it with Zak and now he’s quit, which is actually fine because now I can just go push myself as hard as I want because it’s my business and my business alone. (Fandom: *Concerned Face*)

ROBERT: *Concerned Face* *Soft Aaron Voice* I care, Aaron.

AARON: Yeah, well this was supposed to be my Plot, alright? So stop interfering! And take your festival tickets back. I’m not going! (FANDOM: We knew it! Stop depriving us of all of the cute stuff!)

ROBERT: *Sad Face* - thanks Plot - *Maybe the fans will write fanfic about what could have been* - I should really catch up on my ao3 reading -

[Side of the road with Aaron and Cain and surprisingly not the boot of Cain’s car]

*Cain probably takes too much pleasure cutting Aaron off on his run with his car*

AARON: What did you do that for?

CAIN: Could ask you the same question? I thought this was a Boxing Plot. That’s what the Dingle Newsletter said...well I think...it might have had grease stains over half the words by the time I bothered to look at it because well...it’s the Dingle Newsletter and I don’t care do I?

AARON: Yeah, well that’s over because Zak quit after Robert went and interfered in my Plot and told Zak I’d overdo it and he doesn’t have a mind of his own so now I’m running again.

CAIN: Well, I mean I can’t believe I’m going to say this and use his first name when I do, but it’s not like Robert doesn’t have good reason to worry.

AARON: What am I supposed to do? Just sit in a rocking chair for the rest of my life? Would that make you happy?

CAIN: Yeah maybe, and the fans would probably be all for it too, though they’d probably want to wrap you in bubble wrap first and then drape you under Sugden’s insane butterfly blanket while he feeds you a healthy diet of toast for the rest of your life but...yeah. I have got another idea though. Get in the car.

AARON: Why?

CAIN: We’re gonna go intersect with another Plot, come on. It’ll be fun and I’ll even let you ride in the passenger side and not the boot.

AARON: *He might mean that, I better obey Face*

[The Woods with Aaron, Cain, Debbie and Sarah]

*Blah Blah Blah other Plot where Sarah is absolutely correct in thinking that Debbie is not fun*

DEBBIE: *Rare Smile* I’m going to shoot you until I know you’re having a good time

*Cain and Aaron come out dressed in camouflage shooting paintball guns for context otherwise that line is really weird*

*Aaron is smiling. Debbie is smiling* #TheApocalypseIsComing (cc. @WoolieWeekly)

[Outside the Woolpack with Victim and Rebecca]

VICTIM: Hey, how’s the Plot I’m not overly involved in?

REBECCA: Fine, Dad’s doing okay...this time...but there’s a bunch of shady stuff going on around Home Farm. Possibly due to my sister’s birth father’s brother being around? Maybe? I don’t even know anymore.

VICTIM: Wow, that sounds confusing. Glad I’m not a part of that Plot. But are you sure you should be this confused in your state?

REBECCA: I’m always confused. Anyway, I thought, and this should actually make the fans happy, which is rare for one of my actions, that I might move back into Home Farm after Dad gets out of the hospital. #PleaseStayThere

VICTIM: Did you call the police about any of this?

REBECCA: Of course not, but I just thought of a former Plot Device that might be able to help me out. Us Plot Devices should stick together!

[The Woolpack with Robert, Rebecca and Victim]

*Victim and Robert are talking* *Rebecca enters* *Victim drops Robert as fast as she does personalities in this Plot and runs straight to Rebecca*

VICTIM: Hey did you get a hold of that Plot Device?

REBECCA: Yep! Now I just have to figure how to do all of the work I can’t cope with because I’m literally a failure at everything when it comes to the business.

VICTIM: Oh! I have a great idea! Robert! You should absolutely go and help Rebecca out up at Home Farm. You know, that place that used to represent all of the things you convinced yourself you wanted before you met Aaron and he changed everything! Also, BABY! - wow it’s been a while - Yep! She’s pregnant! Did you hear that, she’s carrying your child! I thought maybe you and the audience might have forgotten that fact because we clearly have for the past three weeks. But yeah, BABY!

ROBERT: *Please don’t drag me into this Face*

REBECCA: I can handle it on my own I swear. Please just let me sensible for the fans!

VICTIM: But why do that when you can drag Robert into it?!

REBECCA: Because it might actually kill my dad if I got Robert involved. (FANDOM: Hmmmm #Sacrifices)

ROBERT: For the record, I’m not getting involved in this at all. You all wanted me to be selfish and self serving again, so now I’ve got far too much shady stuff to coordinate to be bothering with the likes of you.

REBECCA: See, that settles it! Wait...I’m sure I should be paying more attention to something here...hmmm. Oh well.

[The Woods with Aaron, Cain, Debbie and Sarah]

*Dingle paintball banter and fun* *Aaron and Debbie still smiling* - for the fans -

AARON: I’m not actually tired you know. This is nowhere near pushing it hard for me.

CAIN: Well my Plot hasn’t had me working out like yours!

AARON: Yeah, well maybe you should find one that does. *Smiling* *Laughing* #WinterIsComing

CAIN: This is good though right?

AARON: Yeah, even you’re having fun.

CAIN: Don’t tell anyone, right? I’ve got a reputation to maintain...you know, while I’m also dating the local vicar.

AARON: Preferred Coira, but your secret’s safe with me. This was a great idea Debbie had.

CAIN: Well it’s not just for Sarah...

AARON: I am fine you know #StopLyingYouLiar

CAIN: Yeah and you want it to stay that way. Just, if you’re going to keep up with this Boxing Plot of yours, don’t overdo it and don’t make it everything.

AARON: I wasn’t. #StopLyingYouLiar

CAIN: Look, I know we’ve all been completely ignoring you for months but now the Plot has finally decided all us Dingles can interact with you. You should enjoy that while it lasts. There are lots of other things to do besides boxing and running and whatever other potentially self destructive ideas you have in mind, and there are certainly a ton of us in the village to do them with.

AARON: *Smiles* *Thanks for remembering I exist Face*

#robron #emmerdale #plotdale #sorry if this sucks i'm really tired #need to get more sleep

[stereksummerexchange]

Mind’s a Mess

@inatshej

by @septima-sum

“This is our new student,” Finstock tells the class. “Derek Hale! Go easy on him, you rabid monsters.”

Stiles gets a burst of anxiety from the new kid. For a moment, he hears Derek’s thoughts loud and clear. I hate First Days. I never get used to the staring. Play it cool, damn it. Play it cool.

Stiles winces in sympathy. Yeah, First Days suck.

To Derek’s credit, he looks as bored and disaffected as he possibly can while introducing himself to twenty new people who will mercilessly judge every single one of his moves. His tells them that his family moved here from New York, which sounds cool until he mentions the upstate part. He has three siblings. Two of them also go this school, while is older sister is off to college. He likes gaming, movies, and food, by which he means eating rather than preparing. He’s also a werewolf. “And that’s it, mostly,” he concludes.

Okay, the last part is probably not something that comes up in most introductions, but that sort of info is par for the course in Beacon Hills. Everybody is something in this town. When Derek is finished with the introduction, he scans the rows of chairs and – hurray! – ends up claiming the free place next to Stiles. He’s slumping into it as if he wishes he could disappear. Makes himself smaller than he is. Observes everything.

Stiles very much wants to read his thoughts, really read his thoughts, deliberately, but doesn’t. He had many a talk with Ms. Morell why privacy is sacrosanct. Being born a telepath, it was a tough thing to learn. He’s always caught snippets of thoughts here and there, even if he didn’t want to. As soon as he could talk, that got him in trouble big time. Like when he’d mentioned the divorce to Scott, who hadn’t known about it. (And neither had his dad, actually).

Great powers beget great fuck-ups.

Speaking of which, Finstock’s cell phone goes off and prompts him to argue with the poor person calling him. “Are you kidding me? That’s why it’s called an insurance – no – that’s the literal definition of the word!” He scowls at the class as if they are to blame for his predicament. “You do group work until I get back! No shenanigans! I’m looking at you, Greenberg.”

“Stop picking on Greenberg,” a girl in the last row yells.

“I’m not playing favorites! I hate all of you!” Finstock shouts and slams the door shut.

“Wow.” Derek seems bewildered, to put it mildly. “Is he always like that?”

Stiles grins. “My sweet summer child… that’s nothing. Wait until he recruits you into the Lacrosse team and gives one of his motivational pre-game speeches. Now that’s a spectacle.”

Derek processes that. “Can’t wait,” he says dubiously.

“What’s up with the whole Clark Kent thing?” Stiles asks him, motioning to Derek’s bulky black glasses and his whole… vibe.  Like the plaid button-down shirt that strains to fit around his athletic form, or the very neat hairstyle that makes him appear like an engineering student form the 1950s.  He seems like the world’s least convincing nerd. As an actual nerd, Stiles feels compelled to defend the honor of his brethren.

Derek corrects the position of his glasses. “Clark Kent?”

“You know, Superman?” Stiles asks in a tone of profound derision. Jesus. They don’t make ‘em any brighter these days, do they.

“I know Superman,” Derek says. He sounds insulted, which, fair point, he has every right to be. “Kal-El from Krypton, created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster in 1938. I’m just wondering if you’re talking about the Pre-Crisis or Post-Crisis versions? The Golden Age? Silver Age? Bronze? Or maybe you’re talking about Bizarro Superman.”

“Um,” Stiles utters eloquently. This is not going the way he imagined it would go.

“If you mean the 1930s version, you’re practically describing me as an aggressive vigilante, so thanks for that. Or maybe you think I’m the archetype of the brave-hearted hero with a strong sense of justice, morality and righteousness? Like the version from the 1940s onward? Maybe. But you could also mean that I resemble the recent DCEU version, where Superman is deeply distrustful, doesn’t give a crap about human lives and the entire heroic arc is all about his ego. That comparison I would find offensive, frankly.”

“Uhhh… well.” It’s possible that Stiles’ knees turn a little weak. “I just meant because of the glasses and your whole suppressed jock vibe,” he says. “Dude, I don’t know you well enough to even guess which moral belief system you ascribe to!”

Derek considers this. “If you have to make a comparison at all, compare me to the classic Post-Crisis version,” he says earnestly. “And I’m not a jock, suppressed or otherwise.”

“Ok,” Stiles says, bewildered. “Yeah, I’ll… I’ll keep that in mind. Fine. But really, what’s up with the glasses? Wolves have perfect vision.”

Derek seems to deflate. “I know, and so do hunters. My family insist I tried to blend in as much as possible. I’ve worn glasses for years.”

That Stiles didn’t expect at all. “Really? Wow.” He’s been so used to living in the little bubble that is Beacon Hills that he forgot what it’s like out there. “This town is warded. We haven’t had hunter activity in, like, decades. You couldn’t find a safer place anywhere on this planet.”

Derek looks unconvinced but doesn’t voice his doubts.

-

Truth to be told, Stiles is envious.

Of Scott, who lives for the full moons, for the nights spent running through the Preserve, where he can unleash his powers and feel at peace with himself. Of Kira, whose mother instructed her in the ways of kitsunes since she was a little girl. Even a little bit of Jackson, lizard freak that he is, because even he can display his kanima self in this town whenever he wishes to.

In contrast, telepathic abilities are intrusive by their very nature. Not something to be cherished and celebrated – they’re a problem to be managed.

Which is why Stiles loved loved loved the family trip to Chicago last year. Just being in the city and opening himself up, listening to the hundreds of voices streaming past him. He figured he wouldn’t do any harm that way, not if he couldn’t tell whose thoughts he was emerging himself in… but really, in all likelihood that was probably a convenient lie he told himself.

-

Derek sits with them at lunch. He learns that Scott, Erica, Boyd, and Isaac are werewolves. He learns that Lydia is a banshee and Kira a kitsune.

It’s with the familiar nervousness that Stiles tells him he’s a telepath.

Oh shit, Derek’s mind yells. A telepath? Is he reading my thoughts now? Does he know I think he’s CUTE?

Stiles, under the greatest effort known to humankind up to this point, manages not to do a tap dance in the middle of the cafeteria. He closes his mind, but it’s too late to forget what he just learned. Cute. Derek thinks he’s cute!  

“You can read thoughts?” Derek asks out loud, an anxious edge to his oh-so casual question.

“Yeah,” Stiles confirms and fiddles with his napkin.

“Are you reading everyone’s thoughts here?”

“Absolutely not,” Stiles says and acts extra annoyed because of his latent guilt. “There are rules and guidelines. I have ethics to consider, man. Not that I’m interested in the dull inner workings of you unwashed furballs anyway.” The last part he says to all of the werewolves at the table.

“Like we’re interested in your inner workings either,” Erica says sweetly.

Yelping, Stiles ducks as Isaac throws a crumbled paper at him, but it still hits him right in the center of his face. Curse that scarf-wearing annoyance with his impeccable aim.

“You should really try out the Lacrosse team,” Scott tells Derek. “You look like you’d be a good fit!”

“He means that you’re built like a brick house,” Boys says. “And just for the record, I agree. Come to one of our open training sessions, check it out. There’s no harm in that.” 

Derek hesitates. He’s worried, that much Stiles can tell even without working his telepathic mojo.

“I haven’t really played sports yet,” Derek says. “At school, I mean. My mother was always worried I would be too good at it and would give my werewolf identity away.”

That earns him a few looks a pity, but Scott also slings his arm around his shoulders and tells him it’s all going to be fine.

And maybe for the first time that day, Derek believes them.

-

 Growing up, Stiles watched his parent interact with ease, often communicating mentally instead of verbally. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to him.

Sometimes Stiles will visit Claudia’s grave and the wind will ruffle his hair… almost with purpose, almost lovingly – and he’ll imagine it’s her. He’ll imagine that something of her is left behind; a fragment, a piece or her mind. In those moments, he allows himself to believe she watches over him still.

-

Stiles learns that Derek likes to run first thing in the morning, when the dawn is just breaking and the air is still chilly and damp.

He also collects graphic novels and studies for tests with a single-minded intensity that is nothing short of impressive.

Most of the time he’s so quiet that his deadpan humor all hits them a second too late, surprising them into fits of laughter.

And yes, Derek is great at Lacrosse – which irks Jackson to no end and delights everyone else.

-

They’re supposed to study together, but Stiles can’t focus on electrostatic charge right now.

Because: cute.

It’s unhealthy how often Stiles obsesses about that one word and ponders its many connotations. Why didn’t Derek ask him out yet? Why? It can’t be for the lack of puns about bisexuality, because Stiles didn’t spare him those. And yeah, it’s not like Derek is obligated to make a move, he hardly needs to ask out every person he found attractive for one split second, but… but.

“Stiles,” Derek sighs and closes the book he was reading with a thud. He looks at his friend with fond annoyance. “I feel like this would be so much simpler if you just read my damn mind.”

“You mean that?” Stiles asks, nearly breathlessly.

“I do.”

And that’s how it all begins.

For the lovely inatshej and their prompt: I love friends to lovers, preferebly high school, human, light angst with a fluffy ending, maybe nerd Derek.

#stereksummerexchange17 #sse17 #sterek #submission #fic