#that being said i do like to imagine harold knew he was being annoying and was following noah around on purpose

[crunchyharold]

noah was a little bitch i would borrow harolds journal full of drawings of beavers and rats. AND i wouldn't get food on it

noah was SUCH a little bitch,,, harold was trying to initiate autism 2 autism communication and noah was too much of a coward to accept

#that being said i do like to imagine harold knew he was being annoying and was following noah around on purpose #funny to me #ask #total drama #im maintagging this because ur so right

[messedupfan]

I'm With You (Female Reader) Chapter 4

Summary: Tony is in trouble and Y/n plans to go against Fury's orders to help him.

A/N: This is my flop era

Masterlist | Taglist | All Chapters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They had her working a lot and always teamed up with Steve and Natasha going on regular S.H.I.E.L.D. missions to shut down operations that posed a threat. On her off days, she would help Tony design new Mark prototypes. She was concerned about his health considering that he didn't seem like he had been getting much sleep but instead of pressing him on the issue, she just tried to be there for him in any way that she could be. She couldn’t fully process what happened that day and she could only imagine what he had been going through.

Pepper and Y/n would compare notes on what Tony tells either of them because they both knew they weren't getting the full truth out of him. In fact they were barely getting any truth out of him, he thought it was better that he keep most of his secrets to himself. But Y/n knew that whatever he was doing wasn't good for him. She would leave when they were only halfway through working on a suit and return to find that one finished and him tinkering with another. The last idea she left him with was what if they had alternative ways to call suits onto them. Then she went on her mission.

It was a longer mission than most but once it was over she felt a huge sense of accomplishment. Even celebrated with a certain redheaded agent the night before they had to return to headquarters. Things between them were complicated but Y/n enjoyed every moment that Natasha allowed and never complained. Not that she had anyone to complain to, she was still too afraid to come out of the closet.

Once they returned, Y/n passed one of the rooms filled with monitors. A headline caught her eye and she had to check it out. Tragedy was on the news. Y/n watched her childhood home be destroyed with the headline that Tony Stark, the Iron Man, was dead. She couldn't believe her eyes. She returns from a long mission and this was the first thing she sees? It looked to be a few days old. Fury waltzed in right behind her to elaborate on the news. Except he didn't instantly make his presence known when he noticed the way Natasha held onto Y/n for support. He shook his head and considered if they were breaking any rules but none came to mind. So he decided to ignore it for the time being.

"He calls himself the Mandarin. After an attack that put Harold Hogan in critical condition in the hospital, Tony thought it was wise to threaten the terrorist. Which resulted in this, I am sorry agent Stark." Fury says as he walks into Y/n's view. Natasha subtly let's go of her co-workers hand, Y/n understands and doesn't try to reach for her.

"Is-Is Happy doing better?" Y/n struggles to speak.

"The last I've heard is that he remains unconscious but he is stable."

"A-And Pepper?"

"There hasn't been much word from or on her but there's no evidence to suggest that she didn't survive the attack. I suggest you go to your living quarters and take a break. Don't do anything rash, Y/n. Take my advice and get some rest." Y/n nodded dutifully and walked out of the room. Natasha wanted to follow but didn't want to give the relationship status away. "Aren't you going to go comfort her?" Fury said knowing and almost teasing.

"I—" she sighed. She knew better than to try and hide anything from Nick. Natasha hurried after Y/n but the former soldier moved fast and was close to her temporary room. When Natasha did catch up, Y/n was pacing the room. "You're not going to rest are you?"

"How could I? That monster is still out there!" Y/n sits at the edge of her bed and throws her face into her hands frustrated that her mind is too cluttered with grief, worry, and anxiety to think straight. She did need to rest but by then it might've been too late. If only she was a computer then she wouldn't have to worry about annoying things such as emotions. "That's it!" She springs up and goes to the locker in the room with her belongings. She digs through her bag and finds her cell phone dead. "Damnit," she shakes her and is about to smash the device on the ground but Natasha catches her wrist before she could.

"Woah there, didn't you pack a charger?"

"Right, a charger!" Y/n goes digging through her bag once again and sets the phone to charge.

"So what was the epiphany that led you to your phone?" Natasha asked as she rubbed small circles on Y/n's back in hopes to soothe the girl she was sort of seeing.

"Jarvis. The only other thing that my uncle relies on more than himself is Jarvis."

"I'm surprised you didn't bring your suit in here with you."

"I tried. I guess Fury saw to it that Rumlow and a few other agents took it off of my hands." Y/n continues to stare at the blinking battery waiting for it to let her turn on the damn thing. "I probably shouldn't have reset it to it's suitcase form before walking in the building."

"You couldn't have known," Natasha says softly. “Wait. Why didn’t Jarvis warn you about all of this before you took off the suit?”

“Because I’ve been developing my own software just in case Tony ever decides to use Jarvis against me again. So my suit, along with the new S.H.I.E.L.D paint job, has a different intelligence system." Y/n tries to turn on the phone but it still refuses to.

"Oh? Does this one have a name?" Natasha moves her hand up to Y/n's hair to try and distract her from the phone and possible racing thoughts in her friend's head.

"No, I haven't figured out what to call her yet."

She raises a brow and stops her hand, "It's a she?"

This takes Y/n's attention and she smirks up at Natasha. "What? Jealous?"

"No, why would I be jealous of a faceless voice?"

“Probably because I have a more defined relationship with her than I have with you.”

“She doesn't even have a name, how great can that relationship be?”

“Fair point, but I bet if I woke up next to her, she wouldn’t kick me out without so much as a goodmorning.”

“That only happened a few times, when are you going to let it go?”

“First of all, it happened this morning. But I’m only giving you a pass this time because we were running late. Second, I will let it go when you stop being afraid to answer the question of: ‘What are we?’” Y/n winks before turning her attention back to the phone. Natasha shakes her head and removes herself from Y/n. She turns around again. "Hey, I'm sorry. Don't leave, I was just kidding."

"You're going to need your suit when you get the information out of Jarvis. Leave that up to me," she leans over and gives Y/n a lingering kiss on the cheek before leaving the room. Y/n closed her eyes as she received the kiss and when she opened them Natasha was gone. She smiled to herself then went back to staring at the damn blinking battery.

Shortly after, the door opens again. “Wow that was fast,” she looks up expecting her friend but instead finds two agents she is unfamiliar with. “Uh can I help you guys?” One quickly throws a black bag over Y/n’s head and she fights back. Kicking and throwing punches she is able to get the guy and the bag off of her. She knocks the other one down by hitting him over the head with her stool. He is only down for a few seconds. She would have escaped if the guy with the bag hadn’t tackled her to the bed. Two more guys show up and Y/n is able to free herself to continue to fight all four of them. That is until one of them pins her down to the floor and another injects her with something, making everything go black. Natasha returns a few minutes later to the empty room with the suit. Rumlow was being difficult about handing it over but she was able to pull rank. Much to his dismay.

“Y/n?” She calls out, ignoring the obvious evidence of a struggle. Natasha goes straight to Fury to inform him of Y/n’s disappearance. “Agent Stark is missing.”

“Let me guess, she couldn’t help herself and decided to chase after the terrorist,” he says tiredly.

“Yes, but––”

“But what? Let her be, she should know what she is doing.”

“But she left without her phone and her suit. And judging by the state of her room, she didn’t leave willingly.”

“Excuse me?” Fury stands from his desk and rushes to Y/n’s room to find the phone cracked on the floor. Charger ripped from the wall. The stool at her desk tipped over and the files on the desk strewn about. It was quite a scene. “Why didn’t she have her suit?”

“Did you not have Rumlow confiscate it?” Natasha asks.

“Does that sound like something I would do?” They move out of the room to go through the security cameras. Meanwhile, Y/n is in an unmarked vehicle being transported to an untraceable aircraft.

Y/n wakes up strapped to a gurney in a room with only one light pointed straight at her face. “Hello?” Her voice is hoarse from its lack of use. How long have I been asleep? “Where am I?” She tries to look around but it’s difficult.

“Greetings Miss Stark. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Baron Wolfgang von Strucker.”

“Who?” She looks around to search for the source of the voice but finds nothing. “Do I know you?”

“No, but I know a lot about you.”

“Listen, if this is about money, I’m sure we can work this out.” Y/n offers as she struggles against her restraints. “My father is dead, which means I now have access to a whole lot of it.”

“My apologies, we had to keep you asleep for a few days while we moved you around. Your adoptive father, Anthony Stark is alive and well. Doesn’t even know about your disappearance yet.” He clicks through the live surveillance footage he has as he talks through the loud speaker. “But that show clown in red, white and blue and that very pretty Russian girl are searching for you. Only thing is, they won’t find you until I want them to. And by then, you’ll probably be dead.”

She wanted to be relieved by this news but she felt that showing any emotion could be a sign of weakness. So she focuses on other things.“Probably?”

“Would you rather it be a certain death?”

“Well no, but I’m not really one to wait to find out and since I don’t have access to google. I’m going to need you to spoil the ending for me, okay?”

Strucker is taken aback by Y/n’s personality. She is definitely much calmer than he expected a spoiled kid, raised in a mansion in California, like her to be. He finds it unsettling. “I can’t guarantee anything but I have plans for you and hopefully you survive them.”

“Alright then, can I get some water, maybe a sandwich? I don’t have any food allergies, but I’m sure you know that from whatever stolen files you have on me.”

“Why are you so calm?”

“Because I’m an Avenger. I have a team, a dysfunctional team, but a team nonetheless. They will find me and I will be waiting for them.”

“It’s not going to be a pleasant wait.”

“I can take it,” Y/n settled comfortably against the bed and closed her eyes to think of her happy place.

“Oh we’ll see about that,” Strucker flips a switch that electrocutes his hostage. He turns the dial up until she gives in and he grins at the sound of her screams.

Fury paces his office watching the security footage of the attack over and over again. “It has been ten days since they took Y/n.” He stops and turns to the people in the room. “How the hell am I supposed to inform Tony Stark that we lost his daughter on Christmas!” He shouts at Maria Hill, Natasha, and Steve. They are his top secret rescue team for the time being. Fury hopes that they can find her before he has to go to Tony with the information. “What do we have?”

“Agent Rumlow was spotted entering the van that took agent Stark and has been missing ever since.” Agent Hill states as she uses the remote to show the video proof. “And in the attack, agent Stark managed to knock off a vital piece of information from one of the fake agents. This pin has a discrete Hydra symbol.” Steve leans over his knees as the image is enhanced. “Which means we are dealing with a bigger issue than we initially thought. There could be more Hydra members that are part of S.H.I.E.L.D.”

The screen returns to the attack. Fury was kind enough to cut out the moment between Natasha and Y/n, deleting it from everything but a flash drive that he gifted to her. She clutched it in her hand as she watched the person she cared about fight for her life. At the moment she was kicking herself for not letting Y/n all the way in. She deserved so much better than what she was getting. “Are there any known locations that they could have taken her?” Natasha asks. Nobody has an answer yet.

“I can still map out their old bases. It’s not much but it's a start,” Steve offers. He was angry and sad. He liked Y/n, she was his friend and these days he didn’t have many. “We’ll get her back,” he promises.

Tony Stark’s face appears in the corner of the projected image as an incoming call and Fury sighs. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep dodging these calls. Hill, find out who else is part of Hydra and interrogate them. Bring Romanoff with you for backup. Rogers, make your map and keep in touch with these two. I will hold off Stark for as long as I can.” The rest of them leave as Fury answers the call.

“Hey there, one-eyed Willie,” Fury is unamused by the nickname. “I have a problem, see I got Y/n a present and I can’t seem to reach her. Is there any chance you could tell me where she is? Surely she would have finished her mission by now.”

“She did, but we had to send her on another one.”

“Really? That’s funny, do you always kidnap your agents when you send them on a mission?” He holds up the video that Jarvis managed to capture before the phone got damaged. It took him a few days to find it and decipher what it was exactly and when he did, he didn’t know what to do about it.

Fury shakes his head. “Stark, listen––”

“Oh, I’m listening. What the hell happened to my daughter, Nick?”

“We’re trying to find out. In the meantime, I need you to break into our system again and look for any files that seem suspicious. Possibly connected to Hydra.”

“Hydra? Isn’t that gone?”

“Apparently not, we think they are the ones that took Y/n. So if you could help, we could definitely use it.”

“I’m on it,” Tony hangs up the phone and clutches his chest as the anxiety rises. He couldn’t lose Y/n this way. All he has ever done is try to protect the people that he loves and cares about. Then he is reminded that not everything is under his control. “Jarvis, hack into S.H.I.E.L.D’s files. We need to catch these sons of bitches before they hurt Y/n.”

Chapter 5

#y/n stark #natasha x you #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #fanfiction #iron man #hydra #the avengers #pepper potts #tony stark #happy hogan #captain america #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #black widow

[sneedlier]

Melvinborg Headcannons

(AN:I said I would do it.Theres not many but I might add edit this to add more if I get more ideas.)

Types of headcannons:

General headcannons

Platonic headcannons

Romantic headcannons

General Headcannons

He would take care of Melvin a lot.

Almost as if he's a second dad to him.

Fruit-

But he is.

It would go by He/It pronouns and would be Bisexual.

He would also be trans,female to male.

It would miss his life back in the future.

Mostly the technology as he doesn't have may friends in the future.

Maybe they're George and Harold or people who it met in university but I'll let you guys make up your mind.

He actually may still keep in touch with people back in Elementary.

Melvinborg and Grace Wain (Aka:Erica Wain in the future) would probably be enemies in the future.

I think it would be cause she got into Elitinati Academy and he didn't.

Melvinborg sometimes feels guilty when it sees how innocent younger him is.

He probably did something messed up in his current timeline or during high-school that may make him feel sorry for younger him as he will recreate the mistakes he made.

He wishes it could fix his past mistakes,obviously.

It would have a pet snake.

He would act narcissistic but in reality it would get anxiety on what other people would think of him.

Really dislikes how his robot side looks.

It does give him really cool abilities but feels self-conscious on how it looks.

Platonic Headcannons

Being this man's friend would probably be great.

Expecially if you were very close or knew each other for a long time.

He would do you favors.

I would imagine it would have a small business where he would make investions and you would probably get to test them for him.

As long as if it isn't dangerous,of course.

He may act as if it doesn't care about you but trust me,no matter what it says to you he does.

He would probably invite you to hang out to a café or to walk to a park.

It would love a friend that would compliment his robot side.

Like how cool it looks or how it's able to use it to its advantage.

Depending on your personality,would be it's thoughts on you.

If you were energetic and loud,he may find you annoying and stupid but would get used to you eventually.

If you were like him,Smart and narcissistic it would probably think you were cool and understandable.

If you were more quiet and introverted,he would be surprisingly calm and caring towards you as he relates to being shy awkward around people.

Other than that,he would be a nice person to be friends with.

Romantic Headcannons

He would be so thankful to have you,he thought he would of been single his whole life.

It thought he would of been Aroace.

Well,until it met you.

You would of needed to know him for ages until it would've taken a liking to you as he doesn't like to trust people so easily.

He loves you with all it's heart.

He doesn't mind what gender,race or sexuality you are,in it's eyes you are perfect and deserve more than him.

Tell this secretly self-conscious man you live it,he really needs it. :(

It would make you inventions for you on holidays or birthdays.

Loves to give you hand kisses,cheek kisses,all types of kisses.

As long as it's kissing you,he doesn't mind.

With hugs,he prefers to be the small spooned.

Surprisingly.

It's very touch-starved and doesn't really know how to show affection due to his inexperienced with relationships.

So please spoon him as it would love it.

He would love to have movie night dates where you two just sit in a binge watch random movies.

Trys not to get into arguments with you but when you both do,it would apologise first depending on what you argued about.

Acts all tough and mean on the outside but in reality,is honestly soft and caring once you get to know it.

(AN:Hope you liked these headcannons and if you have any ideas for headcannons,please tell me them do I can add them if you want :] )

#captain underpants #melvinborg #melvin sneedly #headcanon

[asleepinawell]

hiii not sure if it’s okay to ask a poi question but here it goes - i recall seeing you expressing (at least some level of) discontent with what Harold has done on the show (to root, to shaw and all those hypocritical decisions throughout). would you like to share more about your thoughts on this character? tks

always okay to ask poi questions. since the fandom is pretty small these days i was going to put my answer under a read more line so people could ignore it more easily if it’s a subject that bothers them but apparently you can’t add read more lines in ask answers? thanks tumblr! so if this is a topic that annoys anyone, please, just skip it. also, while some of this is facts or based on facts a lot of stuff is obviously my opinion and therefore not canon and not the only opinion etc etc.

in general, i wasn’t crazy about the way harold treated any of the other characters (with the exception of john who he had a pretty great relationship with). for root, there was the refusal to call her root, which i found very gross and uncomfortable (like, in general you should respect what people ask to be called, but also it was linked to the traumatic death of her childhood friend and he absolutely knew that so fuck that shit). he even said something along the lines of 'john reese is what you prefer to be called' to john right in the first episode? he was okay with using reese's fake name, but not hers because he made her identity into a power game.

he also tended to be..hmm, patronizing is the wrong word (and lbr root was extremely patronizing to everyone) but more that he treated her like ‘rehabilitating’ her was his pet project or something. i mean one thing that always struck me was his ‘what happened to you’ line in bad code and then the subsequent decision to put her in a mental institution instead of, you know, jail, which is where every other perp they ran into tended to go. he saw her as broken and flawed and in need of his help which, to me, came off as hypocritical and belittling.

also, putting someone in a psychiatric institution where they get pumped full of drugs when they don’t need to be? really fucked up! even if you argue root needed therapy/was depressed whatever, that’s not what they were treating her for. they were treating her for ‘delusions’ and ‘hearing voices’ which were...real things. like, the machine was speaking to her. harold knew that. he let her get put on all sorts of medication and put in solitary confinement and oh yes also her doctor was a really fucked up dude, something harold could easily have dug up if he’d bothered. also the whole ‘killing off a woman to advance a man’s character development thing’ is, uh, a bad trope. to put it mildly. i could write a lot more about his shit with root but let’s move on.

in some ways, his attitude towards shaw bothers me most. he consistently treats her like she’s violent and unhinged because she has aspd and despite the large amount of evidence to the contrary. she is, in fact, the most cool and controlled member of the team (not counting carter) and the least likely to go off half-cocked. shaw does play into this, but mostly only with harold and only through her words, not her actions. she knows what he thinks of her. when she’s captured by samaritan, harold gives up on her very quickly in a way he would never have done for john (and probably not for root either at that point). shaw’s reaction to sim!harold in 6741 of ‘did you even look for me’ says a lot about what she thinks he thinks of her. his whole ‘binary moral compass’ line to her is also, uh, heavily projecting. shaw and carter had the strongest moral compasses of the group. by a long shot. 

moving on to the machine. so first and foremost, if you’re creating a sentient being, whether that’s having a kid or making a self-aware AI, you don’t create something with the intention of locking it up and ignoring it forever. (and he was creating her for the bush/cheney administration???? who TM pointed out was terrible if he somehow had managed to miss that. root called them something like the worst people imaginable and she wasn’t exaggerating). was it too dangerous to let TM be free from the get go? maybe! but then don’t fucking make an AI you think can destroy the world, buddy. there are a lot of reasons he made TM and none of them make this acceptable to me. once TM had clearly proven to be not a threat and trying to help he continued to ignore her and act like she was dangerous.

harold always needed very badly to feel like he had the moral high ground and not be the person who made a bad decision, which yes, is probably partly due to the trauma from what happened to nathan but that doesn’t make it okay when being paralyzed by being unable to make a decision got people killed. more than once! also, most of his morals got tossed out when they weren’t convenient. wouldn’t kill the senator to save the world because killing is bad! next episode he’s like if anything happens to grace kill all of them. cool story, still murder.

i wanna conclude this rant by talking about harold as a character vs harold as a person. meaning, harold as a fictional character who is used as a narrative device in a story as opposed to harold himself without the context of him being fictional. i don’t mind characters who say and do things i dislike. it’s very important to have characters you dislike as people imo. feels like an understatement. but lambet, for example, is a slimy asshole. the story is aware of this. he gets an ending a slimy asshole deserves. harold has a lot of flaws, and causes a lot of damage, gets his friends killed, and his stubborn refusal to budge on his arbitrary moral high ground lets samaritan take over and almost makes team machine lose. he gets a happy ending. with the woman he lied to (and caused a lot of pain and grief by lying to). root ends up dead, shaw gets tortured and fights her way back for root only to have her die which is kind of handwaved as ‘well she has tm with root’s voice good enough’, and john, after having rediscovered his will to live and have a life in the end of s4 goes right back to his whole dying for someone else thing. only harold gets the happy ending.

the show was actually pretty good at highlighting harold’s flaws and making them interesting, and then it kind of forgot that at the end in terms of story outcome. like, if harold had suffered enough to get a happy ending, then why didn’t anyone else get one? so my annoyance was with the narrative’s failure to satisfactorily conclude the characters’ arcs. (and for the record, i’m not one of the people who think he should have died. i don’t think it would have served a point. also death doesn’t equal redemption to me).

so, yeah, not a fan of him. don’t write him in my fics since my dislike would take time and focus away from writing about the people i do like. would probably be less bitter if they’d ended the show better. i was 300k words fic level of bitter. there was some post i saw going around recently about how if your found family show doesn’t end up with your found family together then you’ve kind of missed the whole point of found family and yeah, that.

#mp #asks #poi meta #don't send me hate messages or comments about this #i will just block you without responding #too tired for fandom discourse #i said at the beginning don't read if it'll bug you #so if you did anyway #that's on you #Anonymous

[regulusblacksdiery]

Friday 10th January 1975

Dear Diary,

So apparently my family were right. Eugenia Jenkins (the Minister of Magic) has been forced to resign from office due to the Death Eaters and everything that’s going on. I think, as Ministers of Magic go, she was relatively good.  So I’m worried about what is going to happen now. Like I said before, I don’t want a war. I want everything to just be normal and peaceful and not have the horrible atmosphere I feel in the wizarding world right now.

Barty is really annoyed because in the Daily Prophet there’s all this stuff about his father trying to become the new Minister. Some annoying boys in fifth year keep teasing him about it and I can see that he’s upset. Anything to do with his father puts him on edge. He doesn’t like to be associated with him and he doesn’t like to speak or hear or think about him. But it’s hard for Barty because now his father is in every newspaper. Imagine how much worse it would be if he ACTUALLY became the new Minister of Magic. There are two candidates for the post - Barty’s father and someone called Harold Minchum. 

Anyway in other news, I caught Sirius and Potter and Pettigrew in the library again being quiet and respectful and again I am in utter confusion. This has happened multiple times now and I wish I knew why but it’s not like I’m going to ASK them.

-RAB

#Regulus Black #RAB

[mewtonian-physics]

my ranking of the alex rider original series (stormbreaker through scorpia rising) from ‘book i least enjoy rereading’ to ‘book i most enjoy rereading’ let’s goooo

spoilers for all 9 books under the cut

9. Ark Angel

...He went to space. He went to space. Also the entire plot could have been avoided if Drevin had actually bothered to provide a photograph of his son. I’m sure he had one. I still like this book but it’s literally so insane that I just don’t know what to do with it. 

It is however really funny that Webber just goes and gives a speech insulting this super high-profile ecoterrorist group and acts like it’s no big deal and then they kill him. Shock of shocks.

8. Skeleton Key

Okay, points to this book for terrifying the shit out of me. God damn it does that shark scene scare me. Also, points for making me feel a little bit bad for a man who wants to nuke his own country because he thinks it will fix the place up. I’m still not entirely sure how that’s supposed to work, but that’s probably a good thing. I feel like understanding his thought process would say bad things about me. Still, I actually did feel sorry for him, if only a little. Dude was clearly mentally unstable and I doubt his son’s death helped at all. I also got sad about what happened to Carver and Troy. (Yeah, yeah, I’m a cringe fail American who has the American release. So sue me.) What a nightmare that must’ve been to endure... Otherwise, though, I’m not super into this book. The opening is just kind of meh and the way it leads into the rest of the plot seems a little bit unbelievable. Also, this might be an unpopular opinion, but Sabina annoys me. I would not get along with her at all and I can’t imagine her as a girlfriend. Skeleton Key does, however, absolutely excel at the emotional scenes. 

Also, why are all the spy agencies so comfortable with sending in a 14-year-old? Especially when they outright admit that the other attempts have all died horribly? Bureaucracy’s a bitch.

7. Point Blank

Boo, Dr. Grief! Boo! We hate your white supremacy! I’m so glad you got a snowmobile to the face, you deserved it. (Perks of books written by Jewish people--we aren’t afraid to give the neo-Nazis an unpleasant death.) Anyway, this book definitely isn’t bad, but I wouldn’t really say it stands out in the series. It definitely does hammer home the point of just how trapped Alex is, since MI6 isn’t going to just let him go after one mission, and let’s face it, the plot with the clones is creepy as hell, if highly improbable. But I’m largely just here to see the neo-Nazi get snowmobiled. That’s right, I just completely changed the definition of a pre-established word. I’m a rebel.

Also, I hate Fiona Friend so much and overall think she just didn’t need to be in the book, but the line about ‘I’d rather kiss the horse’ made me laugh so hard. Alex, you sass.

6. Snakehead

Okay, let’s talk about how genius the plan in this book is. I love it! I love how Yu wants to kill the people involved in the peace conference without making them into martyrs, so he comes up with this whole elaborate plan to stage a natural disaster. It’s incredible. This dude was thinking so far ahead. And he would’ve gotten away with it, too, if it weren’t for that meddling kid... But anyway, I don’t see a lot of books where the villain really acknowledges that killing their enemies could just cause more problems for them via turning them into martyrs for a cause. Also, the way he’s so polite and soft-spoken while also being a complete monster... This book genuinely gives me chills. Extra bonus points for the part in the hospital, the absolute nightmare of having all your organs slowly removed and sold off and everyone around you is being so nice about it? ‘Oh, don’t worry, Alex, it won’t be so bad. Here, take your medicine. Do you need anything?’ Literally just. What the fuck. 

Also Ash can fucking fight me. You put your own godson in horrible danger on purpose! You killed your best friend! Bastard. 

...And just in case the book wasn’t disturbing enough, Yu’s fate at the end lives in my mind rent-free and I think about it on a concerningly regular basis considering that the chances of that happening to me are so low they’re practically in the negatives. Damn you, Horowitz.

I would also be remiss if I did not mention just how much I love the tagline ‘once bitten, twice spy’.

5. Crocodile Tears

Ah yes, the book that kickstarted my drift away from the church... I kid, of course. I drifted away from the church for completely separate reasons. But Desmond McCain is always going to scare the shit out of me. The ability to kill countless innocent people while blissfully quoting Bible verses (that he takes wildly out of context and uses for his own self-serving means) is... well, I could actually say a lot about what that reminds me of, but I’m here to rate books, not religion. Moving on. This book has some really stellar antagonists, and the plot is chilling in a way that feels a lot more realistic than most of the other books. Even if some of it is a bit farfetched (sabotaging a nuclear power plant? Really?), the idea of using disasters for your own profit... well. I’m sure I don’t need to elaborate on why that is so believable. The Poison Dome is also a really cool and chilling scene--even Alex, who has the luck of the devil, can’t get out of that one unscathed. Further scares come in with the fate of Harold Bulman--imagine having your entire existence wiped and your identity changed while you were asleep! The breakdown he has over it is almost enough to make me feel sorry for him, even though he was ready to exploit a teenager and make his life a living hell just to turn a profit. Note the word almost.

Also. The opening makes me cry. Specifically the line talking about how Ravi’s kids would ‘never meet Mickey Mouse’. I lose my goddamn mind every single time I read it. That little personal touch turns the scene from a statistic to a tragedy. Once again: Damn you, Horowitz.

4. Stormbreaker

Yeah, this one gets the special cover shot. And why not? What we are looking at here is the birth of a legend. Move the fuck over, James Bond, Alex Rider is on the scene now. Anyway, yeah, this book is pretty damn spectacular. It has its stumbles, but as the first book in a series, that’s to be expected. Still, it pulls you in from quite literally the first line and keeps you going right up until the end. (If you came here from my post of memes, you know how much the line ‘Killing is for grownups, and you’re still a child’ destroys me.) It has the debut of much-beloved characters such as, of course, Alex--but also Jack Starbright, and of course, the best MI6 agent of them all, which is to say Smithers. Hell, even Yassen Gregorovich, especially once you get through Russian Roulette... Man, that was a rough one. 

Seriously, though. This is a really good book. The scene with the Portuguese man-o’-war still gives me the chills to think about. (Have you ever looked up pictures of those things? They’re beautiful, but holy shit will they make you regret being born. Nature is funny like that.) 

We also get the introduction of, of course, Alex’s patented sass (his response to Sayle saying he relates to the man-o’-war is HILARIOUS) and we get the inherent humor of Alex screwing up an alias one time and then just going by Alex for the rest of the series so he doesn’t do that again. Really, kid, I know you’re not a trained spy or anything but did you never play pretend growing up? Ever? You can’t pretend your name is Felix for a little while? That sounds like a you problem.

3. Scorpia Rising

I distinctly remember when this book came out, actually. I was on vacation at the time, and I remember my brother annoying the hell out of the poor workers at a bookstore we frequented there to see if/when they were going to get it in. They did, finally, and we bought it immediately, and I was of course absolutely desperate to read it. He got to read it first, though. -_-

This is a great book, an absolute emotional rollercoaster all the way through. The way Blunt tricks Alex back into service by staging a shooting was exactly the kind of cold, brutal behavior I’d expect from him. Seeing Julius come back was shocking, but very exciting, too. And Razim makes an incredibly chilling villain, with his absolute disregard for human life and his desire to measure pain. Also, seeing Smithers’s house was so much fun. Smithers in this book was just really fun in general, but he’s really fun in every book, so... nothing unusual there. But also, I want an unwelcome mat. Please?

2. Eagle Strike

‘But Penny,’ you might ask, ‘why is this book so high on your list? It has so much of Sabina in it, and you said she annoys you.’ That is true. What does not annoy me, however, is basically the entire rest of the book. I love the tense opening, and then reading through Alex’s real-life ‘playthrough’ of Feathered Serpent is still one of my favorite scenes. Cray is absolutely incredible as a villain, with the way that he truly believes in his cause--which is undoubtedly a good one! Yet the extremes to which he will go for that cause, and the fact that he very nearly succeeds, are what elevate him to one of the most dangerous villains in the series. That scene with Charlie Roper and the nickels is something I can never seem to stop thinking about. Actually, I think about it basically whenever I think about large amounts of money paid in small increments... 

Also, I really enjoy how he gets into the whole plot in the first place, and I really enjoy Smithers saying ‘ah, fuck it’ and helping him out anyway. Go, Smithers. You once again prove me right in saying that you’re the coolest adult in MI6.

The revelation that Yassen knew Alex’s father is one that absolutely blew my mind first time around. The way his life was threaded into the lives of the Rider family--he worked with John Rider, was saved by him, killed Ian Rider, and then died for refusing to kill Alex Rider--wow. Wow. It gets to me. It really gets to me. This book is a masterpiece. I heard that it’s going to be what the second season of the TV series is based off of, and I’m so hyped for that. We love to see it, we really do.

1. Scorpia

I don’t believe anyone who says this book didn’t get to them at all. I just think they are lying. I don’t think it’s humanly possible to not be affected by this book. God. Just thinking about it reminds me of why I don’t think it’s possible. I mean, come on. We get all this backstory about Alex’s parents, we get tricked along with him into thinking MI6 killed his father, then bam, that was a lie, and Alex may have just fucked himself over big time. Also, that plot is terrifying! (And I bet anti-vaxxers had a field day with it, huh.) Julia Rothman is a really great antagonist, one of the only ones who didn’t go and explain her plan in great detail to Alex--the fact that she didn’t actually being a plot point was something I personally found pretty clever. In general, this book is... I tend to hate when people say they ‘can’t put it down’ because it’s usually an obvious exaggeration, but that really is how I feel reading it.

And again. If that ending didn’t get to you... Well, I just think you are lying.

#alex rider #spoilers

[harrysgloves]

Let Your Hair Down (chapter v)

Get caught up with the Let Your Hair Down Masterlist!

word count: 3,128

story summary: Harry gets more than he bargains for when he falls not only for you but your little girl as well.

chapter summary: Harry crashes your and your daughters girls night. 

warnings: Language and FINALLY THE SMUTTY THINGS okay not actual smut yet but it’s leading up to it. We got hot and heavy making out, daddy kink, choking, spanking.. you know all the goods.

a/n: Okay so the smut is being put in another chapter, don’t murder me for that! It’s my first time writing smut so it’s taking a bit longer than I thought it would.. anyways let me know if you like the chapter! xx

>>><<<

The workweek was a long and exhausting one but it definitely had its good moments. Like Harry stopping in twice to surprise you with a coffee. Something you weren't at all used to but thought was adorable as he stood awkwardly by the desk both times, looking so out of place but trying his hardest to impress you. He even took you out on your lunch break once and you hated to admit how well you two actually seemed to click and even though a month ago you were so sure you could never be with him, you felt a part of your walls start to break down the more time you spent together.

And you actually started to wonder if maybe you should give him a chance.

But now it was Friday night and couldn't have been more excited to slip on your sleep shorts and your old shirt from high school. It was a tradition in your house since the divorce to spend every Friday night with Thea, having a girls' night. Which meant pizza, Disney movies, board games, nail polish, and your favorite part; a pile of pillows in blankets in the middle of the living room where you two would curl up and cuddle before bed.

Thea was already in her own set of Princess Ariel PJs. She sat in front of the DVD cabinet, trying to find the movie she wanted to watch while you guys ate when there was a knock at your door. You quickly made your way for it, tying your hair up in a messy bun as you walked.

"Thea go find my wallet please." You said as you walked through the living room. Thea jumped at the opportunity to help you out whenever she could and made her way for your purse when you threw the front door open.

The smiling, charming, green-eyed guy in front of you was definitely not the pizza man and you couldn't help but smile at his own set of sweats he was wearing. He definitely had his pjs on and you had a sneaking suspicion that Thea had invited him since he had his guitar with him in one hand and a box of pizza in the other.

"Stopped the pizza guy on the way up." He said nodding towards the box in his hand and you couldn't do anything else but smile at him. You had no idea how someone could be so sweet.

"Was told I had to wear pjs if I wanted to come over. Oh, and I have to play her song for her before bed." He smiled as you stepped sideways and held the door open for him. That child of yours was just as sneaky as her Aunt Sarah.

"Thea!" You sang out and she rounded the corner, sliding in her socks on the hardwood floor when she stopped.

"HARRY! You came! You came!" She yelled excitedly, abandoning your wallet on the counter as she took off and hugged Harry around the legs. A small 'umpf' coming from him when she almost knocked him over.

"Thea," You said, pulling her attention back to you as you shot her your mom look. "You gotta tell me when you invite people over."

"But momma," She sighed, not letting go of Harry's legs. "It's just Harry and he promised to let me practice painting his nails at Uncle Mitch's." She pouted and if you weren't so good at ignoring it you would have easily let it slide. Your quirked your eyebrow at her, not wanting to let this go but not wanting to get into it with her in front of Harry.

"Sweetheart, your mum's right." Harry said as he leaned down to her height to talk to her, completely catching you off guard. Most people never agreed with you when you disciplined her in front of them.

"You should have asked before telling me to come here. Gotta promise you won't do that again."

"Promise." She said in a dramatically sad voice.

"Good now if you're momma says it's fine, I'll stay." He smiled as he looked up to you and Thea turned around with a big pout on her face. Her hands clapped together in a pleading way and her big lip out.

"Pleeeeease?" They both asked at the same exact time and you knew you couldn't say no even if you wanted to. They were just too cute.

"Okay you can crash girls night." You said taking the pizza from Harry's hand and sitting it down in the living room as Thea squealed, happy you let him stay. She pulled him over to the movie cabinet and had him pick out his favorite Disney movie. Insisting he get to pick it since he's the guest.

You pulled out the paper plates and napkins from the kitchen and walked back into the living room as Thea popped in the Little Mermaid into the DVD player. You smiled over to Harry, not sure if he picked it cause it was actually his favorite or if it was because he noticed Ariel on Thea's PJs. Either way it was cute.

You leaned back against the couch when you sat on the floor. Harry sat beside you, doing the same until Thea moved directly in between you two, wiggling her butt to make more room. You laughed a little as Harry looked over her to you and you shrugged your shoulders.

The movie played and you all ate pizza and then moved onto board games and eventually nail painting.

"You should have let momma paint them for you." Thea sighed as she accidentally painted the top of Harry's whole finger instead of just his nail. You looked up from painting your own nails to look at the damage done but smiled down at her.

"You just gotta wipe it off with a paper towel. You're doing a great job." You encouraged her to keep going after showing her how to wipe the messed up part of the nail polish off.

"Are your nails going to match mine?" Harry asked as he looked up towards her, while she stayed hyper-focused on painting Harry's nails, her tongue poked out of her mouth every so often as she tried her best to paint straight.

"But I can't paint my own nails good yet." She said, never taking her eyes off what she was doing.

"Well, I can paint them for you." Harry said as Thea finished his last nail. They definitely weren't the best but she did a good job for her first time. She pushed the bottle of nail polish toward him and laid her hands flat over the towel you had laying down on the floor to catch any fallout.

"Okay, we can match." She smiled as Harry got to work painting her tiny nails the teal color Thea had picked out for Harry. You smiled down at your own nails, trying your best to hide how happy you were right now. You never imagined yourself in this situation but as you sat with both of them it felt weirdly… natural.

After everyone's nails dried and Harry sang Thea her song, it was time for her to go to bed. Luckily, she was easy to put down and was out in less than 15 minutes. You quietly closed her bedroom door behind you as you walked out to the living room but stopped in your tracks. Harry had picked up everything from the night for you.

"You didn't have to do that." You said but still smiled. It was amazing to not have to worry about cleaning up when you were so ready to wind down and relax.

"Wanted to." He said, patting the spot on the couch next to him, some reality tv show playing gently in the background.

"Hold on." You walked over to the kitchen and took down two wine glasses and pulled out a bottle of wine, opening it before walking back into the living room. If you were going to have a full girls' night with him, he had to have the full experience.

"Once she's asleep I usually finish off girls night with a drink and paperwork." You sat down the glasses on the coffee table that was now moved back into its proper spot. You poured you both a glass and set the bottle down. Picking up your glass and plopping down on the couch with a sigh.

Harry quickly picked up his own glass and sat back draping his other arm around the back of the couch, directly behind you. You took a big drink from your cup as his eyes scanned your whole apartment and finally settled on the record collection you had sitting out.

"Got anything good?" He asked taking a sip from his own glass and nodded towards the records.

"Got Fine Line if that's what you meant." You teased and he barked out a laugh.

"I meant other than that." He said getting up to go through the album's but he didn't get very far through it before he pulled out your Up All Night album.

"Always knew you were a fan." He laughed silently as you sat more embarrassed than you thought was ever possible.

"Shut it Harold. I was a proud Louis girl." You snapped back causing him to whip around and glare at you.

"Wow, love, know how to go right for the low blows." He tsked as he put the album back and pulled out a Fleetwood Mac one and placed it on your record player, making sure the volume was down before placing the needle on it.

"Never claimed to be nice." You said biting your lip to stop the grin from breaking out across your face at his slightly annoyed look.

"Can't wait to tell Lou I'm chasing after someone who wants him more." He sat back down on the couch in his previous position but you snuggled up slightly closer to him. Your knees pulled to your chest but you leaned your side in close to him as you took another drink from your glass.

"God, don't tell him that!" You shrieked at the thought as you sat down your now empty glass on the table beside Harry's mostly full one.

"Afraid he won't want to be your boyfriend after that?" He grinned noticing you had gotten flustered as he leaned closer to you and tickled your sides.

"Harry!" You said pushing his hands away from you quickly as you laughed and he joined in.

"Come on, love, tell me who else is on your celebrity top 5." He said, still tickling you as you tried hard to get away. You started to stand up but he wrapped his arms around you, bringing you back down to the couch.

"No way am I telling you that!" You said through giggles, trying to wiggle your way away from him as he straddled your waist to keep your legs from kicking him. Hovering completely over you to keep tickling your sides.

"I'm not stopping till you tell me."

"Okay! Okay!" You squealed pushing his hands down and he immediately stopped tickling you, and rested both of them on either side of your head.

"God, this is stupid, you better not tell anyone. Especially Mitch." You said jabbing your finger at his chest.

"Promise. Now tell me or I'll start again." He said threateningly and you immediately covered your face and let out a groan.

"Luke Hemmings, Sebastian Stan, Chris Evans, Matt Schultz…" you rambled quickly into your hands. You knew he could still hear you by his laughing.

"Hemmings? Really?" He asked pulling your hands down to see your face.

"Hey! Don't talk shit." You started at him, trying to defend your boy.

"'M not. Just surprised. Who's the last one?" He asked as he laid his hands back by your head. You immediately covered your face again but he nudged your hands with his nose, trying to get you to tell him.

"No, it's too embarrassing." You said not budging your hands.

"Y/N, come on." You could hear the smile in his voice and wanted to throat punch him. Smug bastard. You refused and you didn't speak one word. Which meant he started tickling you again.

"GORDON RAMSAY OKAY?" You yelled as you grabbed his hands and pulled them in front of you.

"Wat?" He said laughing so hard the word barely came out.

"I know but listen, he'd make the best after sex food and a girl's gotta eat!" You clamped your hands back over your heated face and Harry literally shook with laughter.

"I didn't beat out Gordon Ramsay in your list?" He asked, still laughing.

"Hey! You're not a Michelin star chef!" You said getting defensive over your list.

"Yeah but he's old enough to be your dad."

"Oh, so we're kink-shaming now?" You quirked your eyebrow, teasing Harry but the sharp breath he drew in, let you know you hit a nerve. Oh. So he was into that.

A big smug grin made its way across your face as you looked up to him with your big doe eyes. Your brain already coming up with a thousand ways to tease him back after he embarrassed the hell out of you. You gripped onto his wrist tighter and pulled him down towards you, his green eyes widening at your sudden movement.

"What's wrong Harry?" You asked in the sweetest softest voice you could put on. "You wanna be my daddy?"

"Stop." He whined and buried his face into your shoulder but you weren't having any of that. Maybe it was the wine or maybe it was the fact your hormones were raging any time he was remotely near you that made you throw common sense right out the damn window.

"Why daddy? You don't like it?" You whispered directly in his ear, biting the side of his neck as you pushed your hips up into his.

He pulled his hand free from your grasp and placed it over your neck, squeezing the side of it. His eyes were completely lust blown and you were proud of yourself for getting this type of reaction from him but when his lips slammed on yours all thoughts of payback left your mind.

He was ferocious with his kiss, demanding. His lips were everything you had been dreaming about and as his tongue traced the bottom of your lip you didn't hesitate once to open for him. Moaning softly as his tongue seemed to move perfectly in sync with your own.

He pulled back from the kiss. Looking shocked that he had done it and quickly removed his hand from your neck but as your chest heaved up and down, you didn't want him to stop. You lifted your face up and captured his lips again.

This time it was his time to surprise you as he lifted you up from the couch and moved to sit with you straddle him. You couldn't help the involuntary rotation of your hips as you got settled on top of him. His hands immediately went to your messy bun, taking the hair tie out of it and throwing it somewhere in the room. His fingers laced into the back of your hair as he pulled you back down to him for an earth-shattering kiss.

Your hands rest on his chest as your lips moved so well together you couldn't help the small moans that left you. You were trying your hardest to not grind against him again but the electricity he was shooting down your spine with just a simple kiss was driving you insane, especially when he took your bottom lip between his perfect teeth, biting it lightly. Tired of his teasing you sat back down on him, moving your hips back and forth to get any type of relief you could. When you felt his growing bulge, you couldn't help but smirk.

"Got a roll of quarters in there?" You leaned back slightly from him, resting your forehead against his own. His hands ran from your hair all the way down your back and thighs, coming back up to rest on your ass before he gave you a harsh spank through the thin fabric of your sleep shorts. His hands went back to your waist, digging in tightly, as he pushed your hips down onto him again.

"Who said you could stop, love?" He questioned as your head fell forward into his neck as you tried to hide your moan.

"Fuck." You whimpered as his erection dragged across your clothed clit. You wanted so much more, needed it. You moved your lips to his neck kissing softly up to his ear.

"Bedroom?" You whispered to him as he kept your hips rotating around him. Your underwear were about to be completely soaked through and if he wasn't going to get you off you would gladly kick him out and finish the job yourself.

He groaned the second the word left your mouth. Your lips ghosting over his ear so he was able to hear every small breathy moan he was dragging out of you.

"Dirty girl." He said spanking your ass again, his rings biting into your skin, and he quickly rubbed his large hand over the place that you were sure was turning red.

"You got no idea." You whimpered softly at the feeling of his hand soothing the sore skin of your bum. It had been so long since you'd gotten laid. Sex stopped way before your divorce was finalized and you hadn't been with anyone else since. You weren't sure how much teasing you could take. You needed him, now.

"You're killin' me." He groaned laying his head back on the couch and pulled you back from his shoulder to look at him. He already looked like a complete mess, making you feel better for not being the only desperate one in this situation.

"Y'sure about this?" He asked, gently brushing back the few strands of hair that fell across your face. You didn't want to sit and debate over all the thoughts going through your head about if this was a good idea or not. You simply nodded your agreement but he wasn't having it, his large hand moved from your hair to your jaw, immediately getting your attention, and drawing a whimper from you. If you knew he was going to be this dominating you would have decided to do this a long time ago.

"Need to hear you say it darling." His grip was still on your jaw.

"Please daddy." You moaned, laying on his shoulder as your nails dug into his chest over his shirt. "Please fuck me."

#Harry Styles #harry #Harry Styles x Reader #Harry Styles x You #Harry Styles x Y/N #Harry Styles Fanfic #Harry Styles Fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #mine #LYHD

[therenlover]

heyy jac I first wanted to say you are amazing, thank you for going out of your way to give us tfatws content. it brightens up my day whenever I see you post. I was just listening to your zemo playlist and I’m one of those people who when I listen to a song I love to make scenarios in my head. I was wondering if you could walk us through some of your favourite songs on the playlist and tell us how you associate them with zemo. I’d love to hear your thoughts on some of the songs. (if that isn’t too much hassle sorry if I’m being annoying lol).

 Anon, you are currently my favorite person in the whole wide world. I absolutely want to give you my favorite songs on the playlist and tell you exactly what I see when I hear them, and you have given me an excuse to do so. This post will probably be long as hell, so I’m putting it under the cut. 

Foolish To Think from A Gentleman’s Guide To Love and Murder

We all know Zemo is a baron, but like... we don’t know how powerful baron’s are in Sokovia. We also don’t know pretty much anything about his childhood or rise to power. I am a firm believer that he’s been ever so slightly unhinged even when he was still just a normal dude, so this is him deciding “you know what, I’m about to climb my way up the Zemo family ladder however I need to,” This, in my mind, is the epitome of fresh faced, 18 year old, canon Zemo ready to go fuck some people up for power. 

If Music Be The Food Of Love arranged by David Dickau

During his rise to power, still just a normal dude, Zemo falls in love with his wife. I’m a big believer in the fact that, because Zemo was raised as royalty, he knows a whole lot of pretentious shit like Shakespeare and recites it to his partner to be romantic. The line “Though yet, the treat is only sound, sure I must perish by your charms unless you save me in your arms,” is what he used to woo her early in the relationship. So cute, it would be terrible if something bad happened to her...

Bogoroditse Djevo arranged by Arvo Pärt

This one is more of a scene I get in my head. It’s a Christmas tune, and I can see him, his wife, and their infant going to their first Christmas market as a family in Novi Grad. Just... walking from stall to stall, giggling at the performers, eating the food, buying little gifts for the baby to remember the occasion. It’s a calm before the storm.

The Swan by Camille Saint-Saëns

This song, in the playlist, marks the death of Zemo’s family. In the past, dancers have interpretted the melody as a badly injured swan, slowly struggling as they die but still being graceful and elegant as they do. As he searches through the rubble, his hope slowly dies, and in the end his hope dies where his family did. Thus begins his descent into madness in...

Daemon Irrepit Callidus arranged by György Orbán

Daemon Irrepit Callidus is Zemo’s descent into madness. From this point on, he slowly loses his softness. The tone of the songs is often much more modern, pulling away from his roots as a baron and man of high status and leaning into something more gritty for much of the Civil War era in the playlist. He has descended into hell and he believes there is no turning back from here. 

Songe d’Automne performed by The White Star Orchestra

Reportedly (by Harold Bride, surviving Jr Telegrapher who was washed off the deck as the ship sank) this was the last song the orchestra played as the Titanic sank. Zemo is going nuts. ‘Nough said.

If I Believed from Twisted

This song, along with a few more, is an outlier in the Civil War era. It represents his reasoning for what he’s doing. I imagine this song is the feeling he has after he listens to his wife’s last voicemail. He’s doing everything for her, burning a whole superhero organization to the ground so that he can assure nobody else has to live through what he did, but he can’t deny that a part of him wishes he could just bring her back no matter how illogical that is.

How Does A Moment Last Forever (Music Box) from Beauty and the Beast

This is, again, a softer moment. He looks back on the time he spent with his family and tries to keep it safe in his mind. It anchors him to reality and keeps him focused on his goals. The end is coming soon in his mind, so he clings as hard as he can to those remaining memories of peace.

Dies Irae arranged by Giuseppe Verdi

He sets the Winter Soldier loose murders all the remaining soldiers in the Hydra base on his day of reckoning. Yeah, that’s basically it, it’s just hype music as he has his big moment.

As The World Caves In by Matt Maltese

His plan has been carried out and now Zemo is simply watching as the world caves in around him. He’s succeeded in all of his plans, the avengers are crumbling, he’s listened to his wife’s voicemail one last time and now he’s ready to be dead. He thinks this is it. Well, until he’s taken into custody and locked up forever. 

Leonardo Dreams Of His Flying Machine arranged by Eric Whitacre

My man Eric is coming in clutch once again. This is Zemo, brilliant mind and all, stuck rotting in jail. He has nothing but his dreams of grandeur to tide him over So, he dreams. He dreams of escape, of his family, of what waits for him once he dies. 8 years of dreaming pass before Bucky finally approaches as Lacrimosa plays.

Lacrimosa by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Fuck you, Mozart. You’re only here because you played in the show. Moving on. 

The Sweet Escape by Gwen Stefani 

You cannot tell me that this isn’t what was playing in Zemo’s head as he escaped from maximum security prison and rolled up to that warehouse looking all hot and mysterious. 

Sibella from A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder

Look who’s back! This time, though, I included this because I am adamant that Zemo fucks someone he used to know while he’s escaped and they have a big dramatic love affair. Like, he just does. I don’t make the rules. 

WAP by Cardi B featuring Megan Thee Stallion 

Zemo would just love WAP. He says all that woke shit, so like, he vibes with female empowerment and the idea of them taking back their sexuality. He also loves the annoyed look on Bucky’s face when he plays it, so it stays on the playlist. 

The Man I Used To Be from The Count of Monte Cristo

Now, this one is more speculative, but I feel like Zemo will have a minor change of heart. he won't suddenly be a morally straight good guy to the bone, but I think he’s seriously rethinking his ideology and at some point, he might find a way to let go of a lot of the pain and remorse he’s been carrying around. 

No More from Into The Woods

This song, in my mind, takes place at the Sokovian memorial. Zemo is there and he’s so tired of running and fighting and grieving. He just wants to be okay again but he doesn’t know how to. He has this mental moment where he’s asking his deceased father for help and yet the memory (ghost?) of his father, who he resented for most of his life, isn’t helping him straightforwardly. He has to figure it out for himself in the end. This line speaks to me most. “No more giants waging wars. Can’t we just pursue our lives, with our children and our wives? Till that happy day arrives, how do you ignore...” 

and finally...

Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep arranged by Laura Farnell

Of all the songs on this list, this one was the only one I was absolutely certain of including and I knew it had to be the last song no matter what else I included. Its contents, a famous poem by Mary Elizabeth Frye, could refer to either Zemo or his family. In the case that he visits the monument, it could be the feeling he gets there. Finally, he knows that his family is somewhere better, not buried under the rubble of his home. He’s finally free. 

If he dies at the end of the series though, it takes on a whole new meaning. It’s about him, how he isn’t trapped by his mortal body anymore. He’s now everywhere, both a constant reminder to the world of the atrocities committed in Sokovia and a testament to how powerful a father’s love for his family can be. Once again, he’s finally free to reunite with those he loves, but this time it’s he who isn’t truly dead so long as people heed his life as a warning. 

Wow, this was longer than I thought it would be even when I cut a few songs... I hope you enjoyed!

#jac rambles #playlist #zemo #helmut zemo

[starryknight09]

Cops eat muffins?

Febuwhump Day 3: imprisonment

Read on AO3.

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“What’s your parents number kid?”

“Isn’t it supposed to be, ‘you get one phone call?’” Peter asked, using sarcasm to mask his nerves, something he’d picked up from Tony.

“Yeah in the movies.” The cop grunted out, not amused.  Odd.  He almost reminded Peter of Happy.  “Now stop playing around.  Tell me the number.  I don’t have all night.”

“Um…” Peter tried to think quickly.  He really didn’t want to call Tony, his guardian ever since the snap had been reversed six months ago and Peter had found out May had died of cancer in the intervening five years.  Typical Parker luck.  Because as far as Tony knew, he was staying at Ned’s for a quiet night of putting together Legos, not going to some rager in Midtown.  Although to be fair, Peter hadn’t known Flash’s party would get quite so crazy.  Or busted by the cops.

He could call Pepper, but there’s no way Tony wouldn’t find out.  And she’d still have to drive all the way into the city at one in the morning.  He couldn’t call Ned’s parents because he hadn’t seen Ned anywhere around the police station, and Peter knew he’d been up in the bathroom when the party had gotten busted, so it seemed like he’d somehow escaped, and Peter didn’t want to be the one to bust him.  Plus, he was pretty sure Ned’s mom would totally tell on him to Tony.  It was too bad he’d been standing right by the front door when the cops had burst.  Anywhere else and he for sure would’ve gotten away.

“Well?” The cop prodded impatiently.

Who else was there?  Who else?  Who else?  Just when he’d given up and resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to give them Tony’s number, a genius thought struck him.

“It’s 555-6437.” He answered.

The cop picked up the phone at his desk and Peter fidgeted as he waited in the chair across from him, the place he’d been dumped ever since he’d blown a zero on the breathalyzer test.  Thank god for his fast metabolism.  Any other teenager would’ve failed after drinking three beers.

“And who am I talking to?” The cop asked as he dialed the number.

“Oh um Hap— uh Harold Hogan.”

“Your dad?” The man raised an eyebrow.

Peter nodded.  Sure, why not?  Happy better come through for him.  He owed him after he’d forgotten to pick him after school last week and left him sitting there for hours.  Peter had covered for him and told Tony he’d gone to Ned’s house to work on a project and forgot to let him know.

“Different last name.” The cop stated, but Peter recognized the implicit question.

“I’m adopted.” He answered.  That was actually true.

“Hm.  No answer.” The cop said as he pushed the button to hang up the phone before dialing again.

Shit.  If Happy didn’t answer Peter really was going to have to come clean with Tony’s number.

After another few seconds of ringing, the cop’s eyebrows rose and a bemused expression crossed his face before he said into the phone, “Well I’m sorry to disturb you Mr. Hogan but I’m Patrick McAllister, a cop at the 33rd precinct, and I have your son here, a Mr. Peter Parker.  He gave me your number to call.”

Peter winced.  He could only imagine what was going through Happy’s mind right now.

“No he’s fine.  He was at an underage party where alcohol was being served, so we brought him in, but it doesn’t appear that he was drinking so I just need you to come pick him up.”

The cop paused to listen to whatever Happy was saying.  Peter knew if he concentrated hard enough he could probably listen in but he didn’t really want to know.

“Yes, the address is…”

Peter stared at his shoes as the cop told Happy where to pick him up.  At least that meant the man was coming and maybe he could salvage this without Tony finding out.

“Your dad’s on his way.” The cop said as he hung up the phone.  “Said he should be here in fifteen minutes.”

“Great.” Peter said without enthusiasm.  “So...are you going to put me in my cell now?”

The cop barked out a surprised laugh.

“What?” Peter asked, annoyed.

“Why would I put you in a cell?” The man asked, looking like he was working to hold back more laughter. Really, Peter didn’t think the question was that funny.

“Because I’m arrested.  I’m being imprisoned against my will.  Don’t you usually put people behind bars for that?” Peter explained dryly.

The cop burst out laughing.

Peter frowned.

“Man, you watch too much TV kid.” He said a moment later as he wiped at the tears in his eyes.

Peter crossed his arms, feeling defensive.  No one liked being laughed at, and he, in particular, never liked being treated like an idiot.

“Did I take your fingerprints?” The cop asked.

“No.”

“Your mugshot?”

Peter shook his head.

“Then why do you think you’re arrested?”

Peter blinked.  “Because I’m…here?”

The cop smirked.  “Did you break any laws?”

“I was at the party…”

“True but that’s not against the law.  You weren’t drinking and you weren’t providing alcohol to minors.”

Peter frowned.  That first part wasn’t exactly true but he wasn’t about to admit that.  “So if I’m not arrested, why can’t I just leave?”

“It’s against policy.  Can’t release minors without a legal guardian.”

Peter’s jaw dropped.  “So I’m going to get in trouble for nothing?”

“Tough break kid.” The cop shrugged, but Peter could see the glint of amusement in his eyes.  He was clearly loving this.  Well, at least someone was having a good night.

The cop seemed to sense his stormy mood.  He picked up the open cardboard box on his desk and held it out.  “Want a muffin?”

Peter eyed the assortment of chocolate, blueberry, and lemon poppyseed muffins.  They did look good.  

“Aren’t you supposed to be eating donuts?” He teased.

“Watch it kid.” The cop said without any bite.

Peter reached in to grab a chocolate muffin before the man could change his mind.  “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Hey Pat,” Another cop said as he walked over to them twenty minutes and two muffins later.  “The kid’s dad’s here.”

“Thanks Earl.” Pat answered and stood, gesturing for Peter to do the same.  “Let’s get you home.”

They turned the corner around the hallway and Peter caught sight of Happy, standing in the lobby in black sweatpants and a grey sweatshirt.  Peter didn’t think he’d ever seen the man out of a suit.

A second later Happy noticed them and frowned.

“Hey…um Dad.” He practically choked on the words.

Happy just harumphed and looked up at Pat.  “He’s good to go?”

“Yeah.  All set.  He technically didn’t break any laws, but we can’t release minors without a legal guardian.” Pat explained.

Happy nodded and gripped his shoulder.  “All right kid, let’s go.”

“Go easy on him.” Pat called out to them as they reached the door.  “He’s a good kid.”

Happy snorted as he held the door open for him.  As soon as it closed, the man shook his head and said, “Even police officers aren’t immune to the Peter Parker charm huh?”

Peter grinned.  With a comment like that, it didn’t seem like Happy was mad.

“Thanks for picking me up in the middle of the night.” He said as they walked into the parking lot toward Happy’s car.

“What was I supposed to do?  Make you spend the night in jail?” Happy asked gruffly, but Peter knew he cared.

“Technically I wasn’t in jail.”

“Looked like you were in jail to me.” Happy muttered.

“Nope.”

“What do you call what you were doing then?”

“Hanging out at a police station?” Peter tried.

Happy rolled his eyes as he thumbed the unlock button to the car on the key fob.  “Sure kid.”

“It wasn’t so bad.” He shrugged.  “Pat gave me muffins.”

“Only you.” Happy complained as he opened the passenger side door for him and Peter crawled in.

As soon as Happy turned the car on, Peter started toying with the radio dial even though he knew it drove Happy nuts.  He couldn’t handle the man’s taste in music.  He settled on an 80’s rock station as they pulled out of the parking lot.

“You seem in good spirits.” Happy noted.

“Yeah.” He shrugged.  He was.  He’d made it out unscathed.  “If you drop me off at Ned’s house I can just climb up to his window and we’ll be all good.  He lives on 59th and Fullerton.”

“That’s cute.”

“What?”

“That you think I’m going to drop you off at your friend’s house.” Happy huffed out a laugh.

Peter frowned.

“You’re staying in my guest room tonight.” Happy explained as if he was crazy for thinking otherwise.

Peter figured that could work.  He’d just have to make it to Ned’s by tomorrow morning so Tony could pick him up there.

Happy glanced at him and his brow furrowed as if he couldn’t comprehend his continued zen.  “And in the morning Tony’s picking you up.” Happy added.

Peter’s head snapped over to Happy.  “What?  He knows?” He asked, his eyes bugging out.

“Of course he knows.  I called him as soon as I got off the phone with that cop.”

“Why?” He complained in a long whine.

“What do you mean why?” Happy looked at him like he was crazy.  “You got arrested—”

“I wasn’t arrested.”

“—and then you call me and you think—”

“I didn’t call you, Pat did.”

“—that I’m not going to tell Tony, your legal guardian, not to mention my best friend, and the guy who signs my paychecks, that I just had to pick his kid up from jail?”

When he said it that way it did sound kind of bad.

“I was thinking that you owed me for not throwing you under the bus last week and you’d be cool about this.” Peter explained.

Happy raised an eyebrow at him.  “Yeah I owe you dinner or concert tickets or something, not a get out of jail free card.”

“You have no chill man.” Peter groaned.

A second later his phone started ringing.  He pulled it out of his pocket, thinking it was Ned trying to figure out where he’d ended up.

“Shit.” He swore when he saw Tony’s name on the caller ID.

“If I were you, I’d answer that.” Happy suggested.

“I’m going to remember this.” He said, like a threat, to Happy.

“I’m sure you will.” Happy said with an amused smile.

Peter glared at him as he thumbed the accept call button.  “Hello?” He answered nervously.

Maybe it’d be ok.  Maybe Tony would be cool about this.  Peter knew he was no saint.  He’d gotten arrested a bunch when he was younger.  Maybe he’d understand.

“Peter!” Tony yelled.

Maybe not.

#febuwhump2021 #febuwhump #irondad

[primitivejunketer]

I Want To Tell You- A George Harrison FanFiction

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4

Chapter 5- Amour Mon Cher Amour

Fic Summary: George and Rosemarie have been next door neighbors their entire lives. As they grow older, feelings grow stronger. Will they fall in love or fall apart? angst/fluff/slow burn

Chapter Summary: We introduce Paul, Rosemarie goes away on a trip and the unexpected happens upon her return...

Word Count: 2380

Rating: T

Warnings: explicit language/minor affection

Note from the author: Things are happening now!!! Get fired up and buckle in y’all, we’re going for a ride. Also I know the gif below is from Stranger Things, that’s just how cute and awkward I imagine baby Rose and George to be.

Listen while you read! xx

---

October 22, 1954

George sat on the school bus staring out the window at the gloomy Speke weather. He lightly tapped his toes to the beat of Tennessee by Carl Perkins. 

“Hi, is this seat taken?” George looked over at the voice towering above him. A tall, pale boy with round rosy cheeks was addressing him. 

George shook his head silently. 

“I’m Paul,” the boy put out his hand for George to shake. 

“George.” He replied. 

“You’re new, aren’t you?” Paul asked.

“Yeh, I came from Dovedale. My brother came here so my parents made me.” 

 “Oh! What's his name? I might know ‘em.” Paul was jaunty. He had a baby face and was rather tall. He had a very warm presence but George was still new to the school and used to bullies from Dovedale, so he kept his guard up around Paul. 

“Harold Harrison,” George sighed, annoyed. 

“Oh, nah doesn’t sound familiar. But is that your last name? Harrison? That’s a good name. Mine’s McCartney.” 

Paul did most of the talking the rest of the way to his stop. George replied with unenthusiastic “mhm”s. 

The bus finally made it to Paul’s stop after what seemed like years. He shook George’s hand again before retreating from the bus. 

“See you tomorrow, lad.” Paul waved. 

George waved back, wide eyed. 

-

Rose was waiting for George on his porch when he returned home. She was leaned back on the steps, reading a book. 

“Good afternoon, Georgie! How was school?” She asked him in an annoying singsong voice. 

“School wasn’t the bad part, the ride home was.” He groaned, sitting down next to her. 

“What happened? Was someone being mean?” Rose became very concerned. 

“Not at all, this bloke sat next to me and was chatting my ear off the whole way to his stop.” 

“Awww George be nice he was trying to be friendly!” Rose swat his arm playfully. 

“Maybe I don’t want any friends,” he scoffed. 

Rose rolled her eyes and got up, “Come to my house, mum is making stew.” She put out her hand for him to help himself up. Unexpectedly, though, he didn’t let go.

The two held hands for the few block walk to Rose’s house. Before opening the door she awkwardly shook his hand away from hers and opened the door. 

-

December 17, 1954

“She is taking FOREVER!” George complained, tugging his coat tighter around himself. 

“Girls always take forever,” Paul laughed, roughing up George’s hair. 

In the past months, George and Paul had become best friends in school. They rode the bus together every day after the first day they met. They even clung to each other during school. Paul was a year older and had access to the music room at the school and introduced George to a few of his new favorite artists. 

Paul watched George, waiting for this mystery girl’s arrival outside of Trinity Catholic Girls school. 

As per usual, Rosemarie’s parents followed the Harrison’s footsteps and decided Rose should go to private school for secondary school. She fought hard against the decision but eventually lost against her mother. 

Rose HATED school. She hated her stupid black and white school shoes, and her stupid long forest green plaid skirt, and her stupid white button up shirt. 

Suddenly, Paul watched as George’s face lit up. He began waving frantically. Paul’s eyes followed the direction George was looking and he was met for the first time by Rosemarie. 

George gently wrapped his arm around her and turned to Paul. 

“Paul, this is Rose, Rose this is Paul.” George laughed sort of awkwardly. 

“Rosemarie Winthrop, charmed.” Rose smiled, putting her hand out for Paul to shake. 

“Enchanté, Paul McCartney,” Paul, flashed a wink at George, bringing Rose’s hand up to his face to gently place a kiss upon. 

“Alright! That’s enough friendliness for today!” George stood between the two of them, flashing a look at Paul that could kill. 

The three began to walk back towards George’s house for dinner. Mrs. Harrison was having a dinner, celebrating that all of her children would be under one roof for the night. Harold and Louise we’re visiting. 

“I’ve heard so much about you, Miss Rosemarie,” Paul mentioned as they walked together. George stayed in the middle so Paul and Rose had to speak over him. He walked with his head down, kicking chunks of snow as they went. 

“I wish I could say the same about you, Paul. George rarely talks about anything but guitars anymore,” Rose laughed, nudging George slightly. 

“I wonder who’s fault that is,” George returned a stifled laugh and motioned at Paul. 

“I can’t help it, my dad’s a musician!” He had a warm and hearty laugh. 

“Really?!” Rose was enthused, “what does he play?” 

Paul went on to explain his father’s jazz background. At this point, the two were getting along all too well. 

When the three arrived at George’s house, Rose went to greet Mrs. Harrison in the kitchen. Paul mindlessly followed, looking around pictures on the walls. 

George cleared his throat from the top of the stairs. 

“A word, Paul.” He spat. 

Paul smiled, already knowing what he was in trouble for. 

George pulled Paul into his room. “FLIRTING!” He whisper-shouted. 

Paul had to hold back his laugh, “I’m sorry! She liked it,” he could barely speak between laughs. 

“Of course she liked it! You were FLIRTING!” 

Paul was amused at how upset George got, he had never seen him this way before. 

“Look, I know you like her a lot. Relax, mate. She likes you too,” Paul placed his hand on George’s shoulder, reassuringly. 

“What are you two talking about?” The door opened and Rose entered, making George jump. 

“Nothing!” He answered all too quickly, making Paul laugh. 

“That’s not suspicious…” Rose said, raising an eyebrow, “anyway, your mum sent me up here to tell you supper’s ready.” 

-

January 18, 1955

Christmas came and went faster than anyone would have desired. George was heartbroken that he’d have to spend a month away from Rose. 

The week after Christmas, Rosemarie and her mother took what her mother referred to as a “girls trip” to France. Mrs. Winthrop was born in France and had lots of family there. She was particularly keen on staying with her younger sister, Dominique. 

The two sisters hadn’t seen one another since before Rosemarie was born. 

Paul had to deal with George’s complaints for an entire week since he insisted distracting himself with Paul’s presence. 

The two sat in a small cafe near Paul’s house, drinking hot chocolates. 

“You’ve got to stop moping, mate. It’s not like she’s gone forever.” Paul consoled George. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been away from her this long in my life.” George groaned and looked out the window at the snowy scene before him. 

“What is it about her that gets you this way?” Paul was genuinely intrigued. He had never really even seen George look at another girl the way he looks at Rose. 

“I dunno. I’ve known her basically since we were born and just- I don’t know. She’s so-,” he stopped and his face scrunched up. He didn’t know how to answer Paul’s question. 

“She’s just my person. She’s unlike anyone else.” That was the only way George could figure to put it into words. 

Paul nodded knowingly. He wasn’t much older than George, but wise enough to know exactly what he meant. 

-

February 2, 1955

“Bonjour! How was your trip?” George was at Rosemarie’s house not even an hour after she arrived home from the train station. 

“I had an amazing time! My aunt Domonique is spectacular! She taught me how to speak some French while I was there!” The two sat in Rose’s bedroom with the record player on. She was playing all of the new music she got in France, showing George how lovely French music was. 

She particularly liked Yves Montand and wanted to show George his record. She turned up the record player when Amour Mon Cher Amour came on and started to dance by herself. She slowly stepped to the guitar and swung around the room following the smooth lyrics. 

George was frozen. Sitting on the edge of her bed he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Something about her was different since she had returned. Of course she was wearing the popular French fashion, much more stylized than any British girl he had seen in the last month. It even appeared that she had rouge on her lips. George had never seen her wear makeup before. 

“Dance with me George” Rose smiled, putting out her hand for him to grab. 

He stood, somewhat shakily, grabbing her hand and dancing around the small room awkwardly.

“What does it mean?” He asked with a smile, showing off his pointed canine teeth. 

“Amour mon cher amour? Love, my dear, love,” Rose smiled and looked right into George’s brown eyes, causing his cheeks to redden. 

He stared at her face while they danced, he noticed everything about her. The way her chocolate colored eyes sparkled in her dimly lit room, the faint tint of red in her dark hair, perfectly tucked into curls that rested just right on her shoulders, and then did the unspeakable. 

He kissed her. 

And she did the unspeakable. 

She kissed him back. 

It only lasted a couple seconds but it felt like an eternity. 

Neither one of them knew what they were doing, there was a combination of George’s lips on Rose’s chin and teeth bumping into one another. But it didn’t matter. 

They pulled away both blushing, slightly out of breath. They couldn’t say anything, the two just sat there smiling goofily and staring into each other’s eyes. 

Then, footsteps were heard coming up the stairs, and before they could react, Mr. Winthrop was standing in the doorway. 

His initial reaction to seeing his daughter just barely an inch away from George was sweet, he knew it was bound to happen eventually and was happy for them. 

After a few seconds of everyone sitting frozen, George popped up, “Well, I best get going, told mum I was only going to be away for a few minutes.” 

“I’ll walk you out,” Rose quickly stepped behind him, walking past her father who had long since forgot what he went to go tell them in the first place. 

Rose followed George down the stairs and to the front porch where he had parked his bicycle. 

“So-“ Rose started. 

“We don’t have to talk about it.” George quickly interrupted. Rose nodded understandingly. 

“See you tomorrow?” She asked, sheepishly biting her lip. 

“Absolutely.” George hopped on his bike and leaned in once more, kissing her cheek. 

George sped down the street on his bike howling at the air.

“Whoooooohooooo!” He giggled as his bike tires skid along the frosty pavement.

-

Rose watched George until he turned a corner, out of sight. She stared dreamily at nothing at all, in a daze. 

She slowly turned back into her house, gently shutting the door behind her and leaning against it. She let out an audible sigh.

“Did someone just get her first kiss?” Mrs. Winthrop was cheekily peeking from behind the kitchen door.

“Mum!” Rose shouted, embarrassed. 

“He wasn’t being too bold, right? Kept his hands to himself?” Mr. Winthrop chimed in, peeking behind his wife. 

“Dad! It’s bad enough you interrupted!” Rose’s face was full red at this point. 

“Interrupted? It is my business who is kissing my eleven year old daughter in my house.” He retorted. 

Rose groaned, “Dad, it’s just George!” She tried to shake off the subject but her own face wouldn’t even let her. 

She couldn’t help the little smile that peeked up and the rosiness of her cheeks. 

She ran up the stairs to her bedroom and locked the door behind her. 

Before kicking off her shoes and lying down in her bed, she put the Yves Montand record on again. 

She grabbed her pillow and held it close to her chest, closing her eyes. All she could see was George.

She had every single part of him memorized. The way his shaggy brown hair laid on his head, the lines he’d get on his cheeks when he smiled big. She let out a sigh, accompanied by a little smile. 

There was a knock on the door. Rose opened it to welcome Mrs. Winthrop. 

“Hi darling, I made you a cuppa.” She held out her gorgeous silver tray with two China tea cups on it. 

Rose invited her mother to sit on her bed beside her. 

“So,” Mrs. Winthrop started, Rose already knew where this was going to go, “how was it?” 

“Mum!” Rose exclaimed, “I don’t think you’re supposed to ask me that.” 

Mrs. Winthrop laughed, “well, I’ll be the first to tell you, my first kiss was not at all ideal.” 

“How do you mean?” Rose asked, sipping her tea. 

“I was about your age, and I went to a public school, boys and girls mixed, you know.” She began, “and I wasn’t friendly with the boys, I had my sister and cousins, no desire to play with anyone else. And one day, this boy came up to me, oh what was his name?” She paused for a moment, but Rose continued to listen intently. “I think it was Jacques O’Hare, yes he was French Irish, anyway, he walked up to me, grabbed me by the arms and kissed me right on the mouth. I was DISGUSTED.” 

Rose burst into laughter. “Oh, mum I’m so sorry!” She tried to stifle her laughs but couldn’t help it. 

“Don’t worry about me, dear, my point is, how are you?” She asked her daughter. 

“Well,” Rose started, and then drifted off into thought. She had never felt this way before and didn’t know how to describe it. “I wouldn’t have wanted it to be with anyone else.” She smiled, satisfied with this answer. 

Mrs. Winthrop hugged Rose tightly, “so is he your boyfriend now?” She began to pry, with an eyebrow raised. 

“Mum! No, he’s not my boyfriend. I don’t know what he is. I don’t want anything ruined,” Rose was solemn. She felt something unexplainable for George but didn’t want it to ruin what they already had. 

-

#the beatles #the beatles fanfiction #the beatles fanfic #George Harrison #george harrison fanfic #George Harrison fan fiction #John Lennon #paul mccartney #paul mccartney fanfic #Ringo Starr #stu sutcliffe #pete best

[tornrose24]

What’s the use of feeling? (Red Diamond AAU drabble)

(Contains mentions of abuse.)

(Also, we still have yet to meet this mystery sister in the series, so I don’t know what her actual personality is supposed to be like. Also thank god for YD’s helmet since that’ll help everyone imagine their version of the sister for this).

Original Gem AU (as well as zircon!George, sapphire!Harold, and peridot!Melvin) belongs to angerydj.

Alexandra belongs to me.

All of Homeworld knew that the Diamond siblings were like night and day. Yellow Diamond was cold, focused, and rarely showed a soft side, while Blue Diamond was more easy going, yet could be alarmingly harsh if he needed to be. Yellow Diamond only surrounded herself with trusted allies, while Blue Diamond took on a female jasper as a wife and they each had a hand in creating their own child. It was universally agreed that they were both better rulers than the long deceased Red Diamond, yet like any siblings, they too had their issues with each other behind closed doors.

“I thought I told you to stop coming here, Blue!” Yellow Diamond snapped at her brother upon finding him in a red hued chamber where numerous gems were bubbled.

“I understand, but...” Blue Diamond sighed. In a moment of weakness, he found his older brother’s destroyed palanquin on Earth, reflected on times long lost to him, and ended up speaking with a human who somehow found her way to it. Surprisingly, she showed no fear towards him and seemed to empathize with his loss of a loved one. He was so moved by her compassion that he couldn’t help but take her to the human zoo out of a need to protect at least something good that came from Red Diamond’s planet.

Little did he know that the same human and her daughter were hiding in that very same room, trying to look for a way out while staying out of the diamonds’ sight.

“You not only insist on keeping the zoo around, but you still haven’t bothered to shatter any of these gems!” Yellow Diamond scowled at the bubbled gems. “All of them were subjects who rebelled against him or did nothing to aid him!”

“I know but they’re still among the last we have of Red.” Blue Diamond took a random bubble and examined it–it was hard to tell what gem was inside it at his current size. “I don’t think he’d want us to get rid of them.”

Both Edith and Alexandra stared in shock at all the bubbled gems. There were perhaps hundreds of them–how long had they been like this?

“What are you talking about?!” Yellow Diamond snapped. “Our brother never cared about anyone but himself! Sure he might of wanted to spare the humans at one point, but we both knew he’d just want some as pets! That’s why we made the zoo, which we only kept around for experiments that failed! A lot of gems on Earth made it clear that he was a terrible ruler, and many of them were his enemies! So why would he go out of his way to want to save those who failed him?! He deserved to be called a monster and you know it!”

“You and I know that’s only because Mother–!” Blue Diamond began to snap, but stopped himself. Red Diamond may have been created first, but White Diamond saw him as someone to torture and humiliate for reasons not clear to him or Yellow. There was no way Red’s behavior was completely his own fault... or so Blue wanted to believe.

Alexandra felt her mom’s grip on her shoulder tighten up. She looked up to see her mother looking unusually angry and there was a flash of pain in her eyes as she overheard the diamonds. She touched Edith’s hand, causing the woman to flinch and realize where she was before they could continue their escape.

Yellow sighed and pinched her nose. “What’s the use of feeling, Blue?” She asked. “You  want to employ those subjects who destroyed him? Yes we miss him, but you have other things to worry about. You have a purpose to focus on–the sapphire has clarity, an agate keeps others in line, a lapis terraforms, and even your own son was given a purpose.”

Ah yes, Blue Diamond’s son. Yellow Diamond never liked the entitled brat–he was given to Red Diamond as a way to try to help him out on Earth. But Blue Diamond spoiled the jasper and Red Diamond let the young gem do as he pleased, only for the gem to get humiliated by members of the rebellion and end up in Yellow Diamond’s court. Jasper came to her with bubbles containing gems who were supposedly the families of at least two members of the rebellion and expected a promotion (he didn’t get it and of course threw an embarrassing tantrum that would have made a toddler gem’s look tame in comparison). She sent him to aid an insufferable little peridot, but had no clue why he hadn’t come back yet.

If Blue had more better behaved children, or if Red had showed interest in having any, she would have loved the idea of being an aunt. Instead she shook off those thoughts and tried to face the present. “You need to be a leader and focus on a plan of attack.” She continued. “Look forward, don’t look back!” She ripped the bubbled gem from Blue Diamond’s grasp and tossed it away.

Neither diamond saw the bubble head right towards Alexandra and Edith. It bounced where it landed and almost on instinct Alexandra couldn’t help but grab it.

Blue grimaced and turned away, which only angered his sister. “You think you’re the only one whose still mourning?” Yellow snapped. “Not a day goes by that I regret that we caved in and let him have Earth. But do you see me moping about it all the time? So tell me why? What’s the use in feeling–?” Yellow Diamond couldn’t help but remember in that moment–giving him the planet as if trying to shut up an annoying toddler. Once upon a time she had loved him dearly, but after White Diamond pushed him too far–

“What’s the use in feeling?”

She clutched the edge of the railings of the chamber as memories she tried to bury threatened to overcome her.

Those memories of times she and Blue watched Red getting pelted with various objects at the command of White for doing things that displeased her. The taunting that he’d always be a failure every time he tried to please their mother. Him screaming as he was dragged to that tower with no windows for being out of line while she and Blue did nothing out of fear for angering their mother. Him gradually lashing out and tyrannical over others because it was all he had when there was nothing to rule over for him. Him throwing fits that she’d respond back with indifference or with harshness because she had no clue how to else to respond.

“What’s the use in feeling?”

Those memories of times when she should have turned her focus on helping Red Diamond properly heal or help him get back to the once happy gem that he had been in her earliest memories. Instead she and Blue focused on their own tasks and personal happiness until a red quartz–

“What’s the use in feeling–?!” Yellow stopped herself with by humming a melody as a way to calm herself in stressful moments. 

Blue walked over and placed a hand over her shoulder. She grabbed his hand back. There were no words needed to be said.

Neither of them saw Edith and Alexandra running out of the room. Though Edith couldn’t help but shoot one last sympathetic look at the diamonds while Alexandra hugged the bubbled gem to her chest.

****

The rest of the escape wasn’t easy but it ended with an agate that was humiliated and left at the mercy of many amethysts who were eager for some much needed payback. 

When everyone was back on Earth, the young gems and Alexandra gathered around the gem that she had taken with her. The number of gems had slowly been growing and Edith was thankful that they all had a place to go close by since she couldn’t fit them all under her roof. 

Yet it was a moment of anticipation–who would come out of the gem this time?

In a flash of white, a small gem with wild curly hair in a long dress revealed herself. The star on her head band indicated that she was once part of the rebellion.

“Moonstone!” Almost instantly the gem was swept into a huge hug by Bo the bismuth. “We got Moonstone back!”

“Where am I?” Moonstone’s voice came out in whisper like tones. “Did we win?”

“We did! You won’t believe it but we did!”

Edith took in the excitement of all the gems (though Melvin was very indifferent since he never was friends with Moonstone), but there was one who was faking it. Harold wore a smile, but there was a hint of frustration in his eye that confused Edith until she remembered.

He was hoping that Alexandra had brought back Pink Sapphire. Much like the diamonds, the yellow sapphire deeply missed his own sibling.

It appeared that Alexandra noticed the sapphire’s expression as well, but she didn’t say anything. If mother and daughter had their way, they would have taken more than one or at least checked to see if Pink Sapphire was among the bubbled gems in that room.

Edith thought back to the diamonds. She remembered everything that Benjamin told her about his family, but she couldn’t believe she’d ever see them in person. Though honestly it had been of a scare for her to be kidnapped and placed in a ‘zoo’ of humans who all seemed very eager to be partnered up with her (Benjamin would have been rendered speechless at her outfit, but she was positive he’d have thrown the hugest fit imaginable if he knew where she had been taken).

 It appeared that despite Benjamin’s beliefs, both Edith’s brother and sister in-law had missed him all this time and her heart went out to them. Yet she couldn’t dare come out and tell them the truth–she couldn’t risk those gems taking her daughter away from her forever. Especially if White Diamond was truly as horrible as Benjamin made her out to be.

If a station full of trapped humans and bubbled gems was all that was left of Red Diamond to Blue and Yellow Diamond, Alexandra was all that was left of Benjamin to her.

Trust me I wanted Heidi to be the gem instead of Dressy, but it didn’t feel like the timing would be right.

#captain underpants #cu gem au #red diamond aau

[greenninjagal-blog]

Roman Prince, Psychic pt1

Hello, I’m back with another au!

Summary: Roman reads minds, loses his job and makes it his mission to get his brother a boyfriend.

Pairings: Anxceit, (future) Logince, and brotherly Prinxiety

Word Count: 6014

Quick Taglist: @chelsvans​ @faithfulcat111​ @holliberries​ @jemthebookworm​ @killerfangirl3​ @stricken-with-clairvoyancy​ @treasureofpriam​

Read on AO3 || My General Writing List

Roman has lost twenty two jobs in the past three years, which is offensive on many levels. First of all, twenty two was a number that could only be divided by two and eleven, which is much worse than twenty eight minutes ago when he had lost only a total of twenty one jobs in the past three years.

Twenty two only ever brought bad luck.

Additionally, he had been fired from all of his previous jobs so that meant that he had technically failed twenty two times before. Roman was not a fan of failure, not a fan of other people (Virgil) knowing about said failure and lording it over him.

And, of course, there was also the fact that Roman was a grown adult and suddenly money was an issue when he wanted to not be evicted from his apartment. Or, you know, eat. 

So when his brother picks up on the third ring, Roman knows that Virgil already is aware what he’s gonna ask.

“Again?” Virgil says instead of the usual “hello”. He sounds tired, worn out, but Roman gets the feeling its not really directed at him. 

“It was an accident,” Roman whines, slumped over steering wheel of his car. “I swear!”

“That’s the second this month.”

“I can’t help it, Emo Undertaker.”

Which is a lie, because he definitely can help it and has helped it before. Roman is just bad at helping it. He thought he was doing well! He was really trying this time! He had managed to snag an editing job for a newspaper that required barely any talking to other people! He could make it through the day without actually talking to people and then there would be no issues other than his crippling desire to hold a conversation which was easily overlooked in the grand scheme of things-- 

But really, he should have guessed. No one, not even his absolute idiot of a(n ex) boss said “I’m gonna schedule you because you’re the only one stupid enough to say yes” to someone’s face.

Perhaps on his next resume he should title it Roman Prince, Psychic.

On the other side of the phone, Virgil huffs distantly, “No its my brother, Pat. He got fired again.”

“Patton is there?” Roman asks.

He can almost see Virgil cringe on the other end of the phone, “Uh yeah.”

Roman’s lips twist downward on his already not-great mood. “Virge, it’s been months--”

“I know!” Virgil says, “I know! There’s just some stuff we have to do first.”

“We?” The word is short on his tongue, bitter, leaving Roman’s tongue chasing down syllables for the empty space.

“Hey weren’t we talking about your lack of a job?” Virgil says suddenly.

“I do not want that creeper using you, Virgil.” 

“Hey, Pat’s not a creeper.” Virgil says sounding more annoyed than Roman’s sure he has a right to be. “New rule, I don’t tell you to stop reading minds, and you don’t tell me to stop seeing dead people.”

“There’s a difference between seeing dead people, and seeing dead people Virgil.”

“Hey have you considered shutting up?” 

“Look, he may be cute, but he’s been dead for twenty years--”

“Roman.”

“I’m just saying! He is old enough to be our dad, dude!”

“I’m hanging up.”

He does before Roman can say anything else. Roman flips his phone in his hand three times (a good number, Roman’s favorite) and senses the on coming text before it arrives. He twists his keys in the ignition of his car and listens as it rumbles to life with a story of the previous owner (Harold Johnston, who purchased it new, drove it for a while, hit two deer, and got four speeding tickets on before passing it on to his son who crashed it once in a drowsy driving accident that resulted in it being sent in a reused car dealership where Molly Keller bought it----).

By the time Roman makes it through the seven stop lights (three of which he squeezes through because Carl Smith is out jogging and pressed the crosswalk button at just the right time), there’s a message from Virgil in his inbox with a list of new places that were hiring.

It wasn’t that Roman has never thought about starting his own business, because he has. Many times, all the time. Every time he fell asleep. He imagined a cute little office off mainstreet: A psychic shop with charms in the windows that glowed at all hours, colorful draperies and scented candles that would make the shop float on mystery and otherworldness. He’d emerge from the back of the store in elegant clothes, like an ethereal being to startle any customers who dropped in, and he’d whip up a facade of a crystal ball, hide fans around the shop, and electrify the table in the middle of the room to sell the bit.

Roman has thought about starting his own psychic business before. But unfortunately, no one wants to be told things they already knew.

Which of course was the only psychic thing Roman can do. Read minds and see inner dreams with absolutely no ability to confirm them happening and-or not happening. 

(And you only tell a person once that they’re getting a puppy for Christmas before you learn your lesson.) 

To be perfectly honest, which Roman tries to be as he flicks on the lights to his apartment three times, Virgil would have much more luck maintaining a psychic shop. They’re almost opposites, if true opposites were a thing that exists. 

Instead of reading thoughts, Roman’s younger brother hears murder stories. Instead of seeing dreams, Virgil sees dead people wandering the streets.

It made growing up and having friends a real challenge. If Roman had a nickel for every time Virgil had grabbed his arm with his cold fingers and looked him in the eye before asking if Roman could see the person in front of them, he’d have three nickels. Which wasn’t a lot, but there was something upsetting about hearing the complete terror in his little brother’s voice when he couldn’t tell the living from the dead.

The dead also like to talk to Virgil, like to hover around him because he gives off a shadowy aura that works like a drug on ghosts. It makes them feel a bit more alive, makes them more corporal, makes them more dangerous. And once they’ve had a taste, they come back for more, and more, and more.

Ghosts are good for getting information, but rarely good for anything else. 

(Roman does not trust Patton. Not since Virgil told him the ghost had shown up, not since the last guy had whispered all the things he would do to Virgil if Virgil tried to leave or cut him off, not since Roman had put a hole in the hospital waiting room wall because that was his brother and he should have been there.)

Roman calls Virgil back just before dinner time after he had gone over the list (seven places, another good number) and it rings only twice before his brother picked up. 

“Hey Ro, I’m kinda busy right now--”

“Busy?” Roman asks, “On Tuesday?”

“Yes!” Virgil hisses, “Very busy-- ow! Don’t touch that!-- I’ll call you later, Ro.”

“Are you raising the dead again?”

“What? No! I’m, uh,” There was a shuffling, a swear word, and a distant, “at the movies?”

“Right, I’ll pretend I believe that.” Roman says, “I was just checking the list. Your coffee shop is on here.”

“Yes, it is.” Virgil shifts the phone, “Remy fired a guy last week for purposely giving people regular coffee instead of decaf. I thought Remy was gonna kill the guy.”

“Are you sure you want me to apply there?”

There is a swatch and the telltale sound of a match lighting, and the phone shifts again, “I had an idea.”

Roman traces his fingers over the edge of his counter top, absently counting the corners, and grating his skin when it comes up even numbered. “Oh?” 

(wrong wrong wrong. Its too short)

“Yeah, maybe you’ve been going about this all wrong. Instead of cutting yourself off from people, maybe you should embrace them-- ow!” Virgil makes a hiss and Roman guesses plops his fingers in his mouth quickly, “Fucking candles. I hate lighting matches.”

“Stop trying to raise the dead for a second and help your dearest brother understand,” Roman says. “What do you mean “embrace them”?”

His fingers slice the edge of the counter, four four four isn’t enough, is too much, its wrong. 

“A customer came up to me yesterday and demanded a refund because I didn’t put whip cream her latte.” Virgil explains. “I was angry because she didn’t tell me that she wanted whip cream and its not like I can read minds-- and then I remembered my brother can read minds.” The phone shifts again, “Besides you love talking to people and don’t even try to deny it. That editing job was slowly killing you.”

Roman is quiet for a moment, because, really what is he supposed to say to that? Reading minds isn’t all that great, the same way as seeing their childhood cat that died seven years ago wasn’t all that great. But Virgil was also right: Roman missed talking to people, missed the days when he could show up without having to study for the “pop” quizzes and when he could do little magic tricks to wow his friends in between the classes. 

And even if everyone thought his psychic abilities were just parlor tricks, Roman still misses the attention.

“I’ve gotta go, Ro,” Virgil says, “McDonalds nuggets get cold fast, and the dead don’t like cold food.”

“Picky, are they?”

“Very much so.” Virgil agrees, “Just send in an application. I’ll put in a good word to Remy, and if it doesn’t work out, we’ll figure something else out.”

Roman’s fingers hit the corner of the counter again, for the seventh time and he flings them back like they were burning. “Right, yeah. Sure.”

“Bye, Ro.”

“Yeah, thanks, Casper.” Roman says and means it deeply. 

Virgil ends the call. 

Roman twists the phone in his hand three times as the call screen closes. The puzzle game on his phone is about two minutes 120 seconds from reminding him his game hasn’t been played yet today and wouldn’t play at all today if he ended up in the hospital waiting room because something his brother got food poisoning from McDonald’s--

Roman fingers tap the call button again.

First ring, “Ro?”

“Sorry,” Roman blurts out, “I-- am? Damnit! I really am sorry, Virge.”

Virgil’s quiet for a moment, but then he says softly, “I get it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Roman’s mouth snaps close. He ends the call and lets his brother go back to raising the dead on his Tuesday night where he is not going to get food poisoning. He leaves his phone on the counter and flicks the switch three times before leaving the room to go find his computer and fill out the online application.

***

Roman enjoys his twenty third job interview much less than Remy Dormire does. It lasts slightly less than twelve minutes, and by the end of it Roman is ushered behind the counter and given a brown apron (with a single hole at the bottom) and a nametag with his name on it. 

(First name only, and it makes the back of his mouth taste like bitter oranges.)

Virgil gives him a rare smile on his way back out, and finishes making two drinks at once, and ships them off to the customers waiting patiently at the end of the counter.

It wasn’t quite the calm Roman was used too, but it wasn’t unpleasant. Thoughts flowed over Roman like a river, dangerous but exciting. He felt a type of connection to everyone in the store, a type of connection that came from understanding the blurbs and fragments that made up a consciousness. 

It was strange to think that no one else felt like this, felt like they were touching and being touched in a way that was closer than physical contact. How could anyone not want to feel like this? 

But how could anyone know what they were missing when they had never had such a feeling before in their lives?

He had tried explaining it to Virgil once, twice, thrice before. He wishes he could send thoughts the way he read them.

Roman leans over the other side of the counter watching Virgil pour coffee into a styrofoam cup, “You’re off in a minute right?” He taps the the dividing wall, “Wanna grab lunch?”

Virgil hums, his eyes flicking to the side just enough for Roman to guess who might be standing in the empty space.

Roman taps again, “Unless you and Ghost McGee already have fun plans.”

“They can be changed.” Virgil says, and slides the drink over the counter, “Logan!”

Roman shuffles to the side so a guy with glasses and a plaid button up can get his drink. “I don’t want to get in the way of your ghost time. And I definitely don’t want you bringing undead dilemmas to our lunch.”

“I don’t have--” Virgil huffs, “Patton has things to do this afternoon anyway.”

Roman frowned. “Things to do? The guy’s dead.”

Virgil scowls darker than usual. Actually now that Roman is looking, he notices that Virgil’s eyeshadow is a shade lighter than normal: as if he’s trying to make his skin look less pale by comparison. His fingers tap the dividing wall again as Roman narrows his eyes at his brother and tries to remember if he’s ever looked his drained after a night of summoning the dead for a ghost party.

“Five minutes,” Virgil says abruptly, “I’ll see you then.” He wipes the counter with a purple rag and then uses it to slide right away from Roman entirely.

Its a cheap tactic. Roman’s almost offended. The buzz of the cafe hums around him, through him, and causing goosebumps right down his spine. Its exciting, being close to people, almost exciting enough to distract Roman from the predicament of Virgil being cagey-er than before (which he hadn’t thought was possible). His knuckles tap the wall three times and he turns on his heel to settle into a chair for the next five minutes.

(Five was an okay number, Roman supposed. Seven was better, and Three was the best. But Five wasn’t an even number so it was something. At least, no one ever got cancer when he counted to five.)

Roman’s never been good at singling out thoughts in a busy location: too little practice, not enough reason to need to. The process itself required a lot of focus and will power and it felt a lot like pulling out teeth (something he had done when he was seven and Virgil was five and he had lost two teeth in a row and it was wrong, and he couldn’t figure out how to explain it to his parents when they came to figure out why the doors kept slamming). Cutting out the thoughts that weren’t even in order, had no logical reasoning: in the span of a minute a person could go from thinking about a TV show, to thinking about the color of the tile floor, to the scent in the air, to a birthday present for a friend, to, to, to. And with multiple people? In a small space like this coffee shop? It was easier to stop a mountain slide than cut off one person from himself.

Roman’s never been good at singling out thoughts in a busy location, but just this once he’s makes an attempt.

Roman’s never been good at singling out thoughts in a busy location-- 

Virgil is his brother, and so that means that Roman is obligated to figure out why he’s being cagey. Especially if he’s going to bring the moping to their lunch. And Roman’s absolutely not patient enough to wait five minutes to figure out what is causing him distress.

Virgil's thoughts feel exactly like him, Roman thinks. He's a little cold, a little clammy, a little crafty. His presence is like a cat evading capture by any means and when Roman was particularly bored as a child he used to chase after them, chase the feelings, and the scraps of emotions and impressions that sped by like he was actively running out of time to think them.

Virgil is thinking about coffee. He’s thinking about how to punch buttons into the computer they use for the register and how the person currently ordering is an actual idiot because they don’t serve a “Vanilla Chai Tea Latte” because this store is not a freaking Starbucks, its either a  “Vanilla Chai Tea” or a “Vanilla Latte” and fuck, Roman get out of my head before I send a Zombie after you.

So Roman blinks back seeing his brother at the counter, using that customer service smile to please the middle aged woman digging through her purse, but his eyes are dark when he shoots Roman his patented don’t-mess-with-me glare.

I said five minutes, fucking wait will you.

And Roman debates for a moment, less than a minute, just 21 seconds staying there in Virgil's mind that feels a lot like a sweater in the middle of the winter. But in the end Virgil’s mind moves on to the ingredients in a Vanilla Chai Tea and someone else and the girl in the corner has the top third song of the week stuck in her head on a loop and Roman is ever so easily distracted by the repetition of the three lines--

He falls out of his brother’s mind and back into the connective conscious of humans as a whole. There's nothing jarring about it. It's just simple acceptance, like the course of a river gently rolling over him. 

If he closes his eyes it feels like safety and warmth and calmness.

The next thing he knows there's a shove as his shoulder that nearly nearly knocks him off the chair. Virgil's standing there, his hair sticking up from where he yanked off his visor and his mysterious purple eyes glowing with annoyance and irritation and a bit of worry.

"I've been calling you," He says, "Are you alright?"

Roman offers him a blinding smile, that most likely comes across dopey, "Absolutely, Graveyard ghoul!”

Virgil stares at him for a moment longer, mouth curled downwards. “Holy shit, just how socially starved are you? You look like you’re on drugs.”

Roman’s vision is a little blurry. He rubs his eye to clear it, and is surprised when it comes back with tears. Was he crying? “I’m perfectly fine!” He flicks away the tears, because honestly they’re happy tears, and they mean so much and absolutely nothing at the same time.

He gathers his stuff and stands up, (tall enough that he can count the three inch difference between him and Virgil), “Are we going to lunch now?”

Virgil keeps staring at him for a moment, and Roman can only glimpse fractions of impressions from him before his eyes narrow with suspicion.

“Fine. Yeah.” Virgil says, “I know just the place.”

****

“Really, this place?” Roman asks and almost can’t quite believe it. 

Virgil, in all his brother loving glory, does not give him a response. Since he was the one driving he puts the car in park (“not this spot! Use that one!” “Is this necessary?” “Do you like your current car insurance number, Virge?”) and then kicks the door open with more force than necessary. In the car is a lot quieter than in the cafe, but Virgil spends the entire drive thinking of musical numbers rather than what is bothering him.

The only things that Roman learns from the twenty minute drive to a sandwich shop in the middle of the city is that, Virgil is really into The Guy Who Doesn’t Like Musicals for someone who doesn’t like musicals, and that he’s three times a better driver than Roman can ever hope to be.

“Why here, Virge?” Roman asks getting out of the car and stumbling around the edge of the trunk. His brother is already across the parking lot by that time. “We passed nine other shops on the way here!”

Virgil’s hand goes flying up and snaps close in a silencing motion. Roman thinks that its way more effective on ghosts than on living being that he can’t control, but he goes quiet anyway. Virgil huddles by the storefront glass doors turning his around with his hand to his ear-- is he seriously pretending to be on the phone right now?-- and is peering into the shop as inconspicuously as he can.  

Roman is beyond confused.

Virgil takes a deep breath, and nods to himself apparently seeing whatever he was looking for. He grabs the door and then waves Roman inside quickly like he’s embarrassed to be seen with him.

“What is happening?” Roman asks.

“Just shut up and follow my lead.” Virgil says. 

And proceeds to go up to the counter and order a sandwich like a normal person. Roman frowns at the implication that he doesn’t know how to order a sandwich from a shop. His fingers knock the counter (Ew the last customer did not wash their hands after using the restroom, ew, ew!) and he gives the tired sandwich maker a dazzling smile. 

He looks a little old to be working in food retail in honesty. Much more Virgil and Roman’s age than the high school teenagers that are manning the cash register a few feet over. His eyes are gold and brown and very interesting to look at, along with with the dusting of concealer that is all over his cheek covering up something. His name tag is strategically missing in the moment but Roman doesn’t think it matters too much in the grand scheme of things.

The guys name is Dante Ethan Ekans. He’s tired. Overworked. Not paid enough.

He got a nice voice though. He keeps glancing between Virgil and Roman and Virgil, Virgil, Virgil. So much so that he puts way too much mayo on Roman’s sandwich.

Roman grabs a thing of chips and throws them on the counter at the same time as Dante the sandwich maker puts his carefully wrapped flatbread sandwich next to the register to be rung up. Instead of sliding to the back, Dante leans on the counter next to the sandwiches ignoring the high schooler ringing them up and grins at (a blushing????) Virgil.

“Back again, Raccoon?” Dante the sandwich maker says flicking his tongue out just enough to show off a tongue piercing. Its not something Roman thought could be attractive, but somehow he makes it attractive. 

And if Roman can tell that from two feet away, Virgil’s hopeless as the target of such an action.

“Yeah,” Virgil says, “I mean- I just-- I wanted lunch.”

“I can see,” Dante says with a smile. “You’ve made a habit out of coming here for lunch. A guy has to wonder if thats the only reason you keep coming back.”

Roman looks at him, and then Dante the sandwich maker, and thinks he almost understands what is going on.

“Virgil, quick question….”

“I’ll buy you a cookie if you can hold your fucking tongue for three more seconds.” Virgil snaps out loud and then thinks so horrifically loud in his head that Roman resists the urge grimace.

Say it out loud. I dare you.

Virgil is glaring at him again. Dante is staring at him like he’s just now noticing that Virgil came with someone, despite the fact that the man made his sandwich. He pushes off the counter suddenly, with his eyes darting between Virgil and Roman and his thoughts becoming clouded with a sudden flurry of unhappy impressions then he clears his throat and hums a self dismissal.

“And Ice cream from the parlor on First Street.” Roman whispers quickly.

“Roman!” Virgil snaps.

“Deal or no?”

“I hate you.”

“What type of brother would I be if you didn’t hate me?” Roman says loudly without even looking at Virgil. Dante stumbles his steps towards the back. Roman thinks he glances back, but its so quick that Roman really only has the unraveling of the sandwich makers shoulders to take as assurance he was heard.

Roman leans towards his brother in a much, much lower voice, “is this why you’ve been distracted? Because boy troubles?”

“Shut up!” Virgil hisses back and elbows him.

“That will be $23.36.” The cashier says effectively keeping them from breaking into a brawl at the counter.

Roman taps his foot in a series of three while Virgil pays with a debt card and takes their sandwiches and drink cups to a table.

“He’s flipping amazing,” Roman says once they’re sitting and Virgil’s stopped blushing through his concealer. “What’s the problem?”

“Can you read his thoughts right now?” Virgil hisses back. He does a great job of flicking a piece of lettuce off his sandwich.

“Can I-- YES!” Roman presses a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I am insulted you had to ask at all--”

“Just do it.” Virgil snaps and then folds his arms on the table and burrows his head into them without even attempting to eat his sandwich at all. 

Roman imagines that Patton is floating over Virgil’s shoulder even if he can’t see the ghost. He hopes the ghost is as confused as he is, but he seriously doubts it.

“It shouldn’t be that hard.” Virgil mumbles, “He’s probably always thinking about him.”

Roman’s stomach drops for his brother, “A boy friend?” (He frowns at the needless separation of the words)

Virgil moans, “Worse.”

“He’s not straight,” Roman mumbles, because at least that much is obvious.

Virgil doesn’t give him a response, so Roman goes deeper. Dante’s thoughts are at odds with his actions, which throws Roman off when he goes to single them out from Virgil’s and the other workers and the small family that was eating across the dining area. Where he comes off as smooth and suave and absolutely sure of himself….

HOLY FUCK BROTHER DOES HOT RUN IN THE FAMILY WHAT THE FUCK--

...His thoughts are not. Roman chases the screaming through the astral plane with mild amusement. Even when the man is cleaning dishes in the back or checking bread or pacing the back, his thoughts are shouting with panic and he keeps coming back to the snapshot of Virgil at the counter. There’s fragments of emotions with it too, amusement, happiness, self embarrassment, as if he can’t believe he really called Virgil a Raccoon and Virgil let him. 

Honestly with how much Virgil comes up in his mind, Roman can’t see why his brother isn't launching himself over the counter and dragging the sandwich maker to the freezer for an impromptu make out session. 

Or at least he couldn’t.

Then Dante’s thoughts take a leap to the cook time on the last batch of bread, and then the clock, and then the current time and then--

“Dad!”

Roman’s head jerks as he lets go of the isolated thought process and comes back to reality. Virgil does not look up but half his sandwich is gone. Its looks very much like Virgil is throwing himself a pity party while Dante rounds the counter to catch a small child in a hug.

Its undeniably adorable. Roman’s own heart is melting at the sight. The kid can only be four at max, and he’s wearing a backpack almost as big as he is, with a spiderman theme. When the kid talks, he prattles on, and Dante listens to each word with adoration in his eyes.

“So he has got a kid,” Roman comments. He taps Virgil’s foot under the table, “Don’t tell me a kid is a turn off.”

“Roman, you know how I am with kids,” Virgil says. “I’m worse with kids than I am with adults! Which is saying something! The last living person I talked casually to called me a freak and threw a kickball at my face.”

“That was middle school, Miserable Mortuary.” Roman points out, and taps Virgil's foot again, “And if you remember, I beat the snot out of Alfred Hitchcockopolous for saying that. Not to mention, we are talking right this second.”

Virgil grunts sullenly, “Whatever. I’m still bad with kids. I give off that dark energy aura, remember? Give it an hour and Thomas will be running for the hills! There’s no way I could court his dad if he hates me. I’m not gonna drive that wedge between them.”

“You don’t know that yet! Have you talked to this Thomas?”

“And get labeled as a pedophile? No way, not happening.”

“Virgil,” Roman says pointedly (and taps Virgil's foot again), “I’m not saying approach the kid and offer him a joy ride in your crappy used silver Scion. You don’t have to even wait until Dante is out of earshot. Ask him about his favorite color.”

Virgil makes a rather pathetic noise in response. “It’s Dee. He hates being called Dante.” 

Roman glances back at Dante the sandwich maker and Thomas the kid. Dante was getting him set up at a table by the counter where he could color in a cheap Star Wars coloring book. He hadn’t come in with anyone. Which was odd. It wasn’t like anyone would let a four year old ride the buses around town either. But surely if there was another parent in the mix they would have at least come in to see that Dante had received the kid, right?

Roman chews on his sandwich for a moment. His eyes are narrowed at his brother as the melody of thoughts roll over him. He’s seeing, feeling glimpses of something else from his brother something that’s making him even more upset than the whole Dad issue.

“What is it?” Roman says, because he’s terribly impatient for his brothers cryptic dance around thoughts.

“You know how I was busy last night?”

“Summoning the dead on a Tuesday?” Roman nods three times.

“Yeah,” Virgil says and drops his head again like a moody teenager. “Yeah that.”

Roman gets flashes of flash night from Virgil’s point of view: Patton kneeling beside him, McDonalds kids meals, too many melted candles, too many slight variations to the chalk circle, a long night. There’s an unsatisfied tinged to them, an unhappiness, a frustration and a nervousness. 

It takes Roman a moment to work out what it means.

“Oh,” Roman says, “oh no.”

“Yeah,” Virgil bounces his head on his arms staring into his lap, “Thomas’s mother, Dee’s girlfriend, died in childbirth.”

The sandwich tastes foul in Romans mouth. Too much mayo and bad feelings from it. Virgil stuffs a chip in his mouth and crunches on it sadly.

Overall, it's not how Roman was expecting the lunch out to go.

"It's been four years though, right?" Roman tries, because even if Virgil and him give each other grief all the time, he never wants to see his brother unhappy. "He's definitely in to you, Vee. I have proof. He's moved on."

"That's not the issue," Virgil whines. His eyes flick over Romans shoulder where there's absolutely nothing there, which means that Patton the ghost is witnessing this exchange at least. "Ghosts are tricky businesses. For all I know, me dating Dee will cause a tremor in the afterlife and will bring a vengeful ghost down on the three of us."

"Isn't that an extremely rare occurrence?" Roman says.

Virgil huffs glaring to the side, "Not helping, Pat. And to answer your question, Ro, it is a rare occurrence. But I'm also a magical fucking beacon of dark energy that draws ghosts to myself. Do you really think that the odds are in my favor for this one?"

Roman squints at his brother, "Yes, I do? That is why I'm telling you to go talk to the kid?"

"I'm not going to talk to the kid," Virgil says stubbornly, "Not until I know I'm not gonna endanger him or Dee or… myself." He rubs the insides of his arms, and Roman gets flashes of an emergency room and his own fist in the walls. Neither of them say anything for a moment, and from the glassy look in Virgil's eyes, Patton chooses to be quiet too. 

Then Virgil shakes his head and wards off the thoughts. "It's fine. Or whatever. Patton and I are going to do some deep research and I'll find a way to contact Marissa. If she gives me permission, I'll go ahead and talk to Dee again."

He wraps up the rest of his sandwich neatly and leans back in his chair facing the counter where Dante is replacing the produce selection. As if sensing him watching Dante's head tilts up and he winks towards Virgil with another snake like flick of his tongue piercing.

Virgil goes red in the face and stands up. "You know what, I'll be outside!" 

Roman catches a glimpse of a dopey, stupid, lovesick smile on his brothers face and cant believe that hes not in a Hallmark movie. Really it's insulting now. This is drama gold and no ones even writing it down. 

Dante frowns as Virgil flees the scene, and head to the back again with the clear intention to mope in his thoughts. Roman is left alone at a table, with half a sandwich. Which is fine! All fine!

Roman packs up their combined trash and saves the second half of Virgil's sandwich before he gets up and strolls across the restaurant to the trashcan near where Thomas is sitting. Once he throws his stuff away he stops by the table where the kid is sitting.

"Oh my lord!" Roman says, "Look at this magnificent art work! The colors, the lines, the texture! How very bold! Tell me artist, are you the one who crafted such intricate works?"

Thomas grins up at him bursting with joviality. "I am, mister! Who are you?"

"My name's Roman Prince, young artist!" Roman says, "I am trying to solve a problem that I think you can help me with."

"Me?" Thomas says, "What is it?"

Roman thinks that this kid would be very easy to kidnap.

"Well you see, my brother comes here quite often and he thinks your dad is very super nice." Roman explains the best he can, "He wants to be your dad's friend but my brother is very shy around people."

Thomas taps a red crayon to his lip, "He's that scary man that was over there, right? Dad talks about him a lot."

Roman smiles, "My brother talks about your dad a lot, too!" It's a lie, but really it's for a good cause. "I want them to be friends because they seem very happy together. How about I write down my brothers phone number and you give it to your dad for me?"

Thomas nods easily at the words, and then excitedly, "Then they can set up a playdate! Even if Mr. Purple is really scary, I think he makes dad laugh a lot. And Uncle Emile says laughing is good!"

Roman laughs at that. He scribbles out the numbers for Virgil's personal phone in red crayon on a napkin and gives Thomas a fist bump for teamwork. By the time Dante appears in the front again (with a cloud of suspicion and terror that a stranger is near his son) Roman gives him a cheery wave goodbye and is out the door. 

(Virgil is lying in the middle of the parking lot just behind his car and asks Roman to run him over and put him out of his misery.)

(Roman does not run him over.)

(It does take twelve minutes to convince his hopeless brother to get off the asphalt and into the car for the ride back to Virgil's apartment.)

#psychic au #thomas sanders #sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #symapthetic deceit #deceit sanders #dadceit #patton sanders #Psychic!Roman #Necromancer!Virgil #kid!Thomas #coffee shops #anxceit #future logince #brotherly prinxiety #Number counting OCD #ghost!patton #sorry pat

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

my annotations for chappy 11 of ysijwa

this is just for drea and leyla to read so if you're not drea or leyla pls keep scrolling :)

ok this is pretty chaotic and like i said earlier i treated this ike a wattpad comment section so... have fun ig :)

SHERLOCK AND WATSON CINEMATIC UNIVERSE SHUT UPPPPP I LOVE YOU SM DREA

NOT MISS SNAP CRACKLE POP

jealous y/n you say???

now i know why you ignored all my tiktok asks lmao

HELPLESS OH MY GOD

truly madly deeply intended :)

damn he's kind of a narcissist yk? like "I have to be serious my entire family depends on it" shut up mr darcy you're not special

devout in his religion hmmmmmm hopefully we see some more religious trauma content bc me too vampy

awww he wants kids but now he cant have them bc hes... dead :(

AWWW his sister taught him to knit :( if he doesn't knit bloodbag a sweater i swear to god

stuffy moron is correct

"IT'S A FUCKING WONDER HE EVER GOT LAID" OIJRIOJWEIOJIEWOJFIOEJOF

"THE ATROCITY THAT IS BEING ACQUAINTED WITH NIALL AND HIS HORRIBLE AFFINITY FOR CHEAP FLANEL" ORJFOIJFEIOWJ YOURE SUCH A POET

he's so dumb she was with him bc he's hot that much should be obvious to him🙄

FOOLISHLY HOPELESSLY UNMEASURABLY IN LOVE HWAT THE FUCK DREA IM SAD

i love that he remembers the spinal cord dislocation and the dead leaves . like yea im dead rn but the leaves in my hair are really what's bothering me the most

what the fuck is a maw

ok i looked it up i get it now

"attachment is for gullible idiots" yup and youre one of them vampy 😌

"the warmest skin his icy fingers had ever had the good fortune to touch" im so soft rn

oh so now she has "a wholesome beauty about her nature" ? i thought she was just cute enough 🤨

HE THINKS HER SMILE COULD RESTART HIS HEART THATS SO CUTE IM OUHOIJFOEWIJFIOEWJ

"the responsibility of keeping her safe, satisfied, and happy" how 🥺 🥺🥺

"as long as he breathes" i thought he didn't breathe lmao BUT I GET THE SENTIMENT

"always when it comes to her" IM SCREAMING RN THIS IS SO SOFT I CANT

ill never forgive him for being so dense either his brain is basically a rock

HE WANTED TO COMMUNICATE THAT HE BELONGED TO HER IM GONNA HAVE A STROKE

couldnt be me i dont want to be percieved

HE ADDED A FUCKING BUTTERFLY AFTER THE DISCO BALLS IM OIWFJIOEWJFIOEJIOEWNOJIWJ(*H(WUIOFJIOEWJFIOWHVIFUEH)U)($UT

HEY a hamilton obsession is not childish😤

'the only person who was allowed to touch him there was y/n' he's like a little kid who's possessive omggggggg

oh this reminds me i rlly hope everything in that chest was new and had never been used on anyone else owijfowiejfioewj

oh please my irish king can control himself let y/n meet the other vamps🙄

"if they knew all along why did it take so long" yk im wondering the same thing dummy

"every day was a battle to earn her love and affection" wtffff how could she hurt him like that he is just a baby

i think he needs therapy tbh

yes he does deserve to be treated with respect and dignity😤

"supporting and tolerating them despite your differences" exactly unless they're a republican

IM SORRY THAT WAS MEAN OIWFJOIWJFEIOw i said what i said tho

they did everything backwards but it's what baby needed🥺

im literally gonna 🔪 bradley how dare he hurt my favorite ribeye like that

PROPER BOYFRIEND-GIRLFRIEND BONDING PLSSSSS im sure he makes sure to say stuff like "as your boyfriend' or 'since youre my girlfriend' all the time now

"everything that has to do with harry has always and will always make her feel safe and secure" ...who's gonna tell her👀

HE BECOMES CLINGY IVE BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS ONE TURN IT UP

awwww my love language is also quality times bestiesssssss

(this is more serious you might want to change the words to nose kisses or something because esk*mo is a slur)

HE wants to be wrapped in HER arms and get forehead kissies like a little baby🥺🥺

i can tell you wrote this chappy bc leyla would never write about ice cream

IF CHRIST CAN GET A DATE MARKER SO CAN HARRY OIFJOEIWJFIOEWJFWI PLSSSSSSSSSS I LOVE HIM

ALWAYS FOR HER WEJFIOJWEIOFJEWIOFJOIEWJFOIEWJF HES SO IN LOOOOOVE

HE DID IT AND IM SO PROUD OF HIM🥺

omg i have a thot imagine if she got a heart murmur or something and obvi he knows bc he can hear it so now he has to find a way to make her get it checked out out without being suspicious 😭

HE ROCKS HER TO CALM HER DOWN WHEN SHES HAVING NIGHTMARES IJFEOWIJFOIWEFJ

“nearly blinds himself for eternity” what a drama queen i love him

maybe learn how to turn your brightness down grandpa

“can women sense emotional distress” why is this so funny oiewfjwieojfioewj

DEHUMANIZING OWEIJOIAJAKLFSDJLKSDJFKLD

not a psychotic episode 😭😭

crippling mommy issues woejfkljdklsjsdf me too king

awwwww he made her a full buffet i would cry

matchy socks im gonna sob

king is a chef 😌

y/n’s head @ harry’s clavicle rn: 💥

“his plush chest” drea its ok you can say titties

“absolutely flawless”? are you sure shes not just cute enough 🤨

he got her oat milk 🥺the sign of true love

hes such a shithead i love him

SPELLING HIS NAM E ON HER TUMMY IM HAVING ANOTHER STROKE

“I DIDNT WANT TO LEAVE YOU ALL ALONE” HES SO WOIFJSJFSDKJKLSDJF

HE DIDNT HAVE TO DO NIALL LIKE THAT 😭😭

RAPUNZEL HAIR OSIDJSKJKLSJF

she traces a tiny heart on him wtfffffffffff im sad

this… is hot

“theres no room on the counter” owifjlksjfslkfjklsj

HE WOULD WALK THROUGH FIRE FOR HER maybe then he’d be a little less cold

im sorry that was wrong of me lisjfskldjfwoiejewiojrei

OH MY GOD OWEIJFKLJSKLFJL SHES SO BOLD “can’t i?” OSIJFKSLJLKJF

oh boy hes gonna kill her

I WONDERED WHEN THE YOURE HOT WHEN YOURE MEAN THING WAS GOING TO COME UP

literally shut the fuck up mr english major

do it bestie kick him in the balls

SPARE BOOBIES MAAM I CNAT BELIEVE YOU aCTUALLY WROTE THAT OWIFEJWIJEKLJFOIEWHOEWIFEHFLKEWJFKLEWJKLJFL

IM WHITE IM ALLERGIC TO SPICE WEJFLKJFKLEJFLKJSKLJKFSJD

“character development at its finest” what a self aware king

y/n stop being mean to him baby just wants to feel close ☹️

“I’m anemic” ok king whatever u say

“ME AND MY CHRONIC ILLNESS IM SENSITIVE” IJFKLSDJFKLJSDKLJ

ahhhhhhh it’s yoga time

“just ask your cervix” jlksdjflksdjflkdsjflk

“if only you knew” ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

yeah y/n isnt like those other girls 🤪 shes different 🤪

yes bestie objectify him

THERE IT IS MY FAVORITE LINE IN THIS ENTRIE BOOK

PERHAPS MY FAVORITE LINE IN ANY BOOK EVER

“He hasn't been this stiff since rigor mortis”

i think about this on a daily basis i truly do

grey shorts? what a slut

“call the lapd im pressing charges” me after walking up the stairs

OH SO THIS IS WHERE THE GREYS ANATOMY CHARACTERS FROM THE SPOILERS WITHOUT CONTEXT COME IN

him using his shirt as a towel im BARKING

“I wasnt jealous” yea ok 😃

AGAIN HIM DRAWING HIS INITIALS ON HER SKIN THATS SO WOIJFSKLDJFLSJ

yeah harold she just wanted a little kiss 😤

yeah 😃 its bc he ran track 😃

no bc thats so fucking cute that she pretended she had never seen the show before bc he was excited to introduce her to it 🥺

I would do the same tbh i feel like it would be fun to wash dishes with harry idk why

“that skank” oisjksldfjklsjfklsdjflkd

YOUR THICK SKULL COULD DAMAGE THE MARBLE LSKFJKLDSJKFLSDJFKLSJFKLSJKLSJLDKFJLSKDJF I WOULD CRY

he gets her a cup of water 🥺

ok but like wouldn't she want to wash her hair after it got all sweaty at yoga

awwwww she got his toothbrush ready for him why am i so soft rn

memory foam mattresses sound nice but actually they kind of suck bc you sink down and feel trapped in them 😃

HE WATCHED THE TIKTOK SHE SENT HIM IM HAVING A THIRD STROKE

niall is probably on the dumbest side of tiktok idek what side but it’s probably annoying and he thinks it’s hilarious

noooo baby youre not a monster🥺 someone give him a hug rn

well actually you are kind of a monster but its ok we still love u bestie

I too run on caffeine and pizza pockets 😌

TONSIL HOCKEY WHAT THE FUCK OIEJFLSDKJFKLSDJFLSJLKFJSDKLFJ

chatsnap hes such an old man 😭

true lmao if you dont have social media i immediately dont trust you

not the i just washed my hands tiktok 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

HE FEELS STRANGELY PERCIEVED RN KJFLSJFLKSDJ IDK WHY THIS IS SO FUNNY TO ME BUT IM LIKE LEGIT LAUGHING

DO IT BESTIE BITE HIM CHOMP CHOMP

“my eyes are stinging” hes such a baby 😭

“MY SIGH”TS ALL FUZZY” SJFKDSLJFLKDSJFLKDSJFLK

“are you all right” “I dont know :(’ i cant handle this my face hurts from smiling lksjflkjafklj

he has a kitchenaid stand mixer omg thats so sexy

ok but has anyone ever gotten salmonella from raw cookie dough bc i think thats just a myth

fuck u for that one vampy

wow he could never deal with my chronically ill ass

WAIT IS IT WAP

NOPE ITS BETTER LSDFJSDKLFJDS

I agree body is absolutely an instrumental masterpiece

I KNEW HE KNOWS SOME TIKTOK DANCES I KNEW IT

“I know youre kinda into that (getting smacked in the face)” SHUT UPPPPPPP SKJFSKDLJFDS

NOT HIM TWERKING SLKFJSDKLFJDSKLFJDSKL

YES YN GET THAT VIDEO AND BLACKMAIL HIM

“I think i popped something” ok old man 😭

why is the word wench so funny lkfjslkfjdslkfjsdlkfj

dont hand it over i want to see him snap

OH SHIT HE JUST JUMPED THE TABLE LSDFJSDKLFJLKDNMNXCMNJKHOIUIOEUR

oooooooooooo

OH MY GOD AGAIN SHE REALLY IS BOLD SLKDFJDSKLFJLSKDJFLKJFS

not guerrilla warfare 😭😭😭😭

do it bestie give him a concussion he deserves it

“no piece of art could ever compare to her” 🥺🥺

“remember that time you told me making out was childish” “no” i hate him 😭

THERE IT IS AGAIN “sex isnt the only way he can feel close to someone anymore” SHUT THE FUCK UP IM SOBBING

this reminds me of the dehydrated intercourse with demonrry

“don’t care, relationships are about sharing’ hes so sdjfksldjfklsjf

DO IT BESTIE KICK HIS KNEECAPS IN

suing disney for false advertisement 😭

THIS SCENE IS KILLING ME LKJFKLSJFLDSJ “just pucker your lips over it” “You have actual brain damage, dont you?” DREA I LOVE YOU KSDJFLDSKJFLKSDJ

how do those bubbles taste babe

ok drea wtf i was so happy and now this??????

“everything’s wrong” NO SHUT UP SHUT UP ITS HAPPY HOURS

not the boob privileges 😭

WAIT THIS IS FROM THE BSE MV ISNT IT “dance is just so hot rn” “depressing shades are just so hot rn”

NOT HIM GETTING ALL STUTTERY WHEN HE ASKS HER IF SHE WANTS A DRAWER 🥺

NO ONE HAS EVER BEEN THIS GENTLE WITH HIM BEFORE WTFFFFFFFF IM CRYING

“youre so fucking cute, my baby” me when i see literally any picture of him

JELLO HAS a STRONGER BACKBONE THAN THIS KSFJSDKLFJDSKLFJ

“betrayed. objectified. taken advantage of. used. “ i hate him sm 😭😭

OH MY GOD IS SHE GONNA SHAVE HIS FACE THATS SO CUTE IM

SHE ISsSSSSS IM SQUEALING

stop him worrying she’ll think it's weird and wont want to do it 🥺

“bold of you to assume id ever be convicted” PLS DREA LAKFJDKSLFJ

“the more you talk, the more appealing manslaughter sounds” I CHOKED DLSKFJDSKLFJDKSJFDSKLJ

HIM WHISTLING TO GET HER ATTENTION WHY IS THAT SO CUTE

Im sorry but its really funny to me how you wrote the sentence “wrong metal, he thinks ironically” … get it ? like IRONically lkfjdslkfj im sorry i’ll show myself out

“this boy?” what a fucking cutie i want to kick him

I forgot what a bop helpless is thanks for reminding me im gonna go listen to the entire soundtrack again-

theyre so fucking cute i hate them

so yea bascally this is the best thing ive ever read and i love you so much and my face hurts from smiling :)))

#annotations #ysijwa

[loveforpreserumsteve]

End of the Line (Pre-Serum Alpha!Steve and Pregnant Omega!Bucky Modern Bus Trip A/B/O AU)

Three:

"So, uh," Bucky started. Feeling compelled by his guilt to admit, "I'd like to pay you back, once we get to New York."

Steve shifted, momentarily annoying Noah still on his lap. Much to Bucky's continuous surprise, Steve made no move to hand the toddler back to him. Instead, Steve quietly comforted the young pup and rubbed his hand over Noah's back. Making sure that his jacket covered his wrist to avoid accidentally marking Noah, Steve still moved his hand in soothing motions.

Clearly not trying to move much in hopes of not disturbing Bucky's pup, Steve gave Bucky a sideways glance, "I'm not gonna make you pay me back."

"I know you're not making me," Bucky assured, helping Maisie climb into his lap while he replied, "I'm offering."

His jaw clenched and Bucky's heart started racing. Knowing that he shouldn't be angering an alpha that was trying to help him. It was stupid to be pushing this man's buttons when all Steve was doing was being kind. How could he be so reckless? Hadn't he learned this lesson time and time again with Brock? Did he have no self-preservation? Did he not care for his pups --

"Bucky?" Steve questioned, turning towards him. Noah was distressed, hiding his face further into the alpha's neck as though looking for a savior that he had never known.

Blinking, Bucky looked down at Maisie, watching as she silently cried into her blue teddy bear, Windy. Purposely burying her nose into the stuffed animal to hide from the distress rolling off Bucky. Even he could smell his bitterness and fear abstracting and twisting his natural scent.

Thickly swallowing, Bucky attempted to calm himself. If not for himself, for his kids and the strangers around them. Taking in a shaky breath, Bucky caught that same lounging-in-the-shade-with-a-freshly-picked-apple scent. Gaze focusing on Steve, Bucky noted how the petite man was actively pushing his scent out, to the rest of the room, to Bucky's pups, to Bucky, himself.

Heart stuttering, Bucky gave Steve a small smile in his silent appreciation. Looking back at the other passengers in the lobby, Bucky was about to apologize to them, but didn't get the chance to.

Overhead, the speaker cracked and announced, "Bus 1454 from Phoenix to New York has arrived. Please form an orderly line near your assigned terminal, and you will start boarding shortly."

Removing Maisie from his lap, Bucky set her on the ground. Only, she was tired. Both exhausted from the hour of day and emotionally exhausted from fleeing. Glancing over at Steve, Bucky watched as the petite alpha rose from his seat, keeping Noah in his arms. So, Bucky rose as well, slung his bag over his shoulder and lifted Maisie back into his arms.

As Bucky followed Steve towards their gate, he couldn't help but think how they looked like a family. Watching as Noah wrapped his tiny arms around Steve's slender neck sent a pang through his heart. For a moment, wanting to rub in Brock's face, see? He could still be an alpha! He's still deserving of an alpha's love! Bucky rolled his eyes at himself and how that was where his mind went. As though his pup's designation was the most important thing in the world.

"Priority boarding, please make your way to the front," an employee announced once they reached their departure gate.

Steve glanced over his shoulder to make sure that Bucky was still there before leading them towards the front of the line. Bucky could only imagine how much their tickets cost if they were priority boarding.

"Us four," Steve explained to the bus driver, holding out their tickets for the omega man to scan, while another employee took Steve's larger bag and Bucky's duffle to place them in the under-bus compartment.

Allowing Steve and Noah to board the bus, the man stopped Bucky. Immediately, Bucky's stomach twisted in anxiety. The driver -- Harold, the name tag read -- assessed him with concern set deep in the wrinkles of his face as he quietly questioned, "You okay?"

The bruise, Bucky remembered. Fixing a grin on his face and keeping his expression neutral, Bucky reassured, "Yeah, perfectly fine."

Bucky could see the way the omega evaluated him. Probably wondering if he should question him more. Thankfully, it didn't take long for him to decide not to, and granted Bucky access to the bus.

Like a pebble had been removed from the weight on his shoulders, Bucky took in a deep breath and made his way towards the back of the bus. Joining Steve where he stood in the aisle, swaying from side-to-side as he rocked Noah. It shocked Bucky with how natural this came to Steve.

Setting Maisie in one of the seats, Bucky shrugged out of the backpack diaper bag, and placed it in the overhead compartment. Gesturing for Steve's own backpack, he was surprised when the alpha willingly handed it over without complaining about being a strong, macho alpha who didn't need any help from a weak, prissy omega.

"So," Bucky started, placing his bag above the seat, "Ya got pups?"

"Uh, no," Steve stammered a bit. Resting his cheek on top of Noah's head before remembering that that was definitely too intimate of a gesture for only knowing the toddler for a half hour and quickly stood a bit more rigidly. Steve clarified, "My friends have some though."

"Ah, that explains it," Bucky nodded, knowingly. Moving Maisie to the seat beside the window, he realized he forgot her booster seat in his haste and worried his lower lip with his teeth as he used the waist seatbelt to harness her to the seat. Hoping that that would be good enough.

Ultimately deciding that it simply had to be, Bucky took the aisle seat and furrowed his brows when Steve took the seat across the aisle, still holding onto Noah. As Steve looked over at Bucky, his own brows furrowed. It didn't take him long though to realize that he was still holding the pup, a pup that wasn't his, to boot.

With a blush coloring his face, Steve stood once more and pried Noah's arms from around his neck. Of course, that only caused Noah to try and hold on tighter to the blond. Eventually, Steve was able to successfully pass the toddler to their father. And as Noah settled into Bucky, Bucky curiously watched Steve, as though the alpha wasn't sure what to do with himself.

"Your mate's lucky to have you," Bucky acknowledged, jealous of someone he's never met.

"I don't --" Steve sat down, clearing his throat while his blush burned even brighter "-- I don't have a mate."

You know what they say about assuming, that little voice in the back of Bucky's head that sounded like his omega father reminded. Cringing at his insensitive comment, Bucky apologized, "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Steve assured. Pressing his lips together, he debated something. Bucky could almost see the gears turning in his head before he said, "Call us even."

"Even?" Bucky's brows furrowed.

"You don't have to worry about paying me back now," Steve confirmed.

"What? No," Bucky dismissed as the bus pulled out of the station. Closing his eyes briefly to reign in his nausea, Bucky said, "That's not the same thing."

"Could be," Steve quietly reasoned.

Returning his gaze to him, Bucky narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "Is this some knothead alpha bullshit?"

"Trust me, that's not why," Steve scoffed, relaxing into his seat. Glancing at Bucky, he must've noticed how he wasn't going to let it go because Steve admitted, "It'd weigh too heavily on my conscious if I took money from someone who needed it more than me."

Bucky's face puckered. Unsure how to feel in the situation. On one hand, Bucky wanted to be an independent omega who could take care of himself and his pups. On the heavier hand, however, Bucky knew that Steve was right.

"Plus, I was raised better than that then to come across another omega in a situation my mom and I experienced only to not lend a helping hand when given the opportunity to do so," Steve revealed.

"Yeah?" Bucky softly questioned. Suddenly picturing Steve as a scrawny pup being held in his omega's arms, much like his own son now.

"You questionin' my mama's parenting?" Steve playfully questioned, a smirk tugging at his lips.

As the bus drove further from the station, the more Bucky relaxed into his seat and grinned, "No, sir."

#end of the line #stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x bucky barnes #marvel #fanfic #wattpad #ao3 #modern au #omegaverse #pre-serum steve #alpha steve #amputee bucky #omega bucky #pregnant bucky #mpreg #cross country road trip #bus trip #fleeing an abusive relationship #getting out #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #happy ending #stevie is a natural #a/b/o dynamics

[penmansparadise]

Billy Hargrove Imagine Request - Songbird

*I DON’T OWN ANY GIFS POSTED* *CREDIT TO ALL GIF OWNERS*

Here it is, the imagine requested by @hargroveswift​ !! I cannot tell you how much I enjoy writing for his character.  This was an imagine requested from my Tumblr.  So, I mentioned two really AMAZING songs in this one.  One is "Lay It Down" by Ratt, my personal fav Ratt song, and "Songbird" by Fleetwood Mac, also my fav song by them.  Yes, the Fleetwood Mac song has some significance because it is the title of this piece.  Take a listen to both while you read, or not, but you should definitely check them out.  This was your first request and I hope you really like it!!! Enjoy everyone!!! Xx.

Warnings: Mild language (literally its one word, but still)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Choir!Reader

_______________________________________________________________________

You watched him stand with confidence as he told his story. His shoulders rolled back, puffing his chest out just slightly. His arms made a large gesture causing the crowd of people around him to erupt with laughter. You didn’t know what he was saying, you never did, and you probably never would.

Billy Hargrove was the King of Hawkins, and notoriously known as the town flirt. He was beautiful, funny, and way out of your league. Billy was a part of the “cool kids,” and you, with the lack of a better description, were a part of the “band and choir geeks.” You hated labels, but you knew the one that was given to you was accurate. Although you weren’t welcome in Billy’s clique, that didn’t stop you from crushing on him and crushing hard. From the moment he moved to Hawkins, you fell head-over-heels. You loved his cool car and the way he drove way too fast in the parking lot. You liked the way he ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame his messy curls. You couldn’t get enough of him. Everything about Billy was perfect, but you would never tell him that. Instead, for months, you settled on loving him from a distance and keeping your dignity. Things drastically changed one day after choir practice.

You and your duet partner, Sarah, walked out of the school building and headed toward the parking lot.

“So, I was thinking of asking Ms. Harold if we can change the key. I think F sharp Minor would fit us better, you know?”

You fixed your backpack and slowly nodded and hummed a little in the new key.

“It is easier to hit the notes in that key.”

The two of you laughed in unison before Sarah veered away from you.

“I’ll ask her. See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

You gave her a wave goodbye and walked to your car. The sad piece of metal sat perfectly in the parking spot. Opening the squeaky door, you threw your bag in the passenger seat and hopped in. You stuck the key in the ignition and gave it a turn, but nothing happened.

“Oh, please not now,” you begged your 1973 Chevy Nova. Rubbing the dashboard, you gave the key another turn.

“Come on, baby, work!”

The engine clicked a couple of times before going quiet again. You let out an annoyed grunt and turned the key once more. The same clicking noise filled your ears, followed by a puff of smoke coming from under your hood. Your eyes widened before you jumped out of the car. You looked at your smoking car and grabbed your head in disbelief.

“Great, I just set my car on fire. Awesome job, Y/N. Seriously, way to go.”

As you stared at the smoke creeping out the sides of your closed hood, you heard someone approach you. When you turned around, your chest clenched.

“Need some help?” Billy asked, throwing the butt of his cigarette onto the pavement in front of him.

Your mouth fell agape as you took him in. He was wearing a white shirt that clung tightly to his chest, a jean jacket that hung loosely around his torso, and jeans that hugged him in all the right places. You opened and closed your mouth like a fish thirsty for water. He had never been that close to you, let alone said anything to you. His eyebrows rose in question and anticipation. You shook your head before speaking.

“I, uh, it’s, uh, my…my car. It’s, um, the engine,” you fumbled lamely over your words.

A red hue rose to your cheeks as you failed to complete a coherent sentence. Billy let out a light chuckle before tugging at his jacket just like you loved.

“Let me take a look.”

He popped the latch on the hood, and, as he lifted it, smoke billowed out around him. Waving his hand in front of him, Billy let out a stream of coughs. Once the smoke subsided, he leaned forward. Your eyes traveled the full length of his body, and your heart began to jump in your chest. He was even more beautiful up close. His skin was smooth and tanned to perfection. With the sun beating down on him, tiny hints of gold shined in his hair. You could tell he worked out from the way his jacket tightened around his arms. Your stomach did flips as you drank in every inch of his God-like image. The sound of his voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Well,” he said, taking a step back from your car, “your engine is shot. There’s no way this thing is running without going up in flames.”

Your face fell at his words. You stared at your broken car and let out a huff of frustration.

“Great,” you said mostly to yourself.

Billy took a step toward you and motioned toward his car.

“Do you need a ride?”

Excitement and nervousness blanketed you. You could feel your whole body heat up at the question.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to have to go out of your way.”

Billy let out a breathy laugh,

“It’s really not a big deal. This town isn’t that big.”

You watched as he moved past you and grabbed your stuff from your car. He began walking toward his car without you.

“You coming?” He asked with a light chuckle.

A blush rose to your cheeks again before you quickly fell in step next to him.

Billy’s car was almost as perfect as him. It took every ounce of you not to admire it. You cleared your throat as Billy tossed your things into the front seat.

“Thanks for giving me a lift. I’m Y/N, by the way.”

Billy held the door open for you to climb into the passenger seat.

“You’re welcome, and I know.”

He shut the door and leaned onto the open window.

“I’m Billy, by the way.”

“I know,” you said with a playful grin.

Billy let out a light laugh,

“Glad we’re acquainted,” he said before hopping into the car himself.

The drive was quiet at first until Billy, with a swift flick, turned on the radio. Ratt’s “Lay It Down” started blasting through the speakers. You watched as he bopped around and hummed along to the music. Unconsciously, your head began to nod along to the beat. Before you knew it, you were singing the song quietly under your breath. Every now and then, you could see Billy turn to look at you, but you kept your eyes fixed on the road ahead.

When the song finished, Billy turned the radio down and looked to you with curious eyes.

“What were you doing at the school after hours?”

“Choir practice,” you said without moving your gaze, “I’m a singer.”

From your peripherals, you could see Billy nod his head slowly.

“Hm,” he began, “Y/N, the Rockstar. I can see it.”

You shook your head but didn’t say anything in return. The silence settled on the two of you again but didn’t last very long. Billy, not missing a beat, spoke again.

“Sing something for me.”

Your head swiftly turned toward him.

“I’m sorry?”

He laughed a little at your reaction but quickly regained his composure.

“If you’re aspiring to be a Rockstar, you need to be good at singing. So, let me hear it.”

You let out a huff at his cockiness but didn’t refrain from throwing it back at him.

“I already know I’m good, Billy.”

Billy narrowed his eyes at you and scoffed.

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

The air around the two of you went still for a moment as Billy waited. You closed your eyes and let out a breath before finally giving in. The lyrics to “Songbird” by Fleetwood Mac flowed effortlessly from you. The song was way out of Billy’s repertoire of music, but you didn’t care. You hit each note and run with ease. Your eyes were closed, and your body swayed as you serenaded Billy. Just as you were finishing the last lyric, Billy pulled his car to a stop. You opened your eyes to see Billy staring at you openmouthed. Heat climbed up to your face, and you quickly looked away. You brushed your hair behind your ears in an attempt to calm your nervous hands.

“Well, am I good?”

“Y/N,” Billy said in a whisper, “you’re way better than good.”

You gave a soft “Thank you,” before gathering your things and getting out. As you were walking up your driveway, Billy’s booming voice stopped you.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at 7.”

“What?” You asked, dumbfounded.

Billy leaned a little farther into the passenger seat. You could see the cocky grin playing on his lips.

“You’re going to need a ride to school. I’ll be here at 7, so don’t make me wait!”

He gave a playful honk before peeling out of your driveway and disappearing down the street.

The next morning, Billy showed up exactly at seven and took you to school. From that day forward, he was your permanent ride. Even after your car was fixed, he insisted on driving you everywhere. You didn’t argue, though, you kind of liked the extra time with him. It was only a few months later when he asked you to be his girlfriend.

After that, Billy started meeting you in the hall and walking you to class. Every day, he waited for you after the bell would ring. He would even sit outside the choir room and listen to your practices. When practice ended, he would give you continuous praise.

“Baby, you sounded amazing! I loved it when you did that thing where you started at this note way up here and then went all the way to this note way down here.”

“It’s called a run, Billy.”

“Well, it sounded great! You always sound great, baby.”

Billy began to attend every choir concert and was very supportive. Being dressed up in a concert hall was not his usual playing field. He would often clap or hoot at the wrong time earning dirty looks from those around him. From the stage, you could see him beaming in his seat. After each concert, he would be waiting for you with a kiss and a bouquet.

“You sounded so good, baby. There was this guy next to me who literally started crying during your solo.”

“Are you sure he wasn’t just irritated that you kept clapping during it?”

Your relationship was playful and different. No one ever expected Billy to end up with the quiet choir girl, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. You loved your badass, silly, and confident boyfriend.

One night while you were lying in bed, you heard a tapping come from your window. You looked at the clock to see that it was after 10 o’clock. A wave of anxiety surged through your body as you stood up and moved toward your window. With shaky hands, you pulled the curtain aside to find Billy. He was leaning against your window lazily. The light from your room cast shadows on his face making it look badly bruised. When you opened your window, you realized that it was not shadows. Billy looked up from his feet, and you saw the black and blue marks strewn across his face. His eyes were red and puffy from crying, and his usual confident stance was gone. His shoulders were slumped, making him look smaller than you had ever seen him. Your heart fell in your chest at the sight of your broken boyfriend.

“Billy,” you whispered before pulling him into your room.

As you closed your window, he sat down on the edge of your bed. You could see a few tears fall down his face as he sat there. You moved to his side and took his large hand and gave it a squeeze.

“What happened, Billy? Did you get in a fight or something?”

He let out a sad laugh,

“Yeah, something like that.”

His voice was thick with sadness and tears. You brushed your free hand over the black and blue marks on his face. He winced a little under your touch making you sick to your stomach.

“Billy,” you began, “what really happened?”

His eyes were fixed on the white carpet filling your room. You could feel his body tense next to you.

“Baby, you can tell me anything. I want to help you, but I need to know what happened.”

Billy was silent for another minute before he finally cracked. He let out a shaky breath as more tears traced down his cheeks.

“It’s my dad,” he said, “he gets angry sometimes.”

You felt nauseous but didn’t say anything. You wiped the tears from his face and encouraged him to go on.

“It’s not the first time he’s done this. He’s been…beating me…since I was a kid. I can’t remember a time when he didn’t hit me out of rage.”

You could feel tears welling in your own eyes, but you swallowed them back.

“Billy, why didn’t you say anything before?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he shook his head and dropped it again.

“Have you told anyone? Your step-mom? Hopper? Anyone?”

The silence that you received was all you needed to know the answer was “No.” You sat next to him in your quiet room before he completely broke down. Soft sobs racked his body as tears poured from his eyes. You pulled him into a warm embrace before lying down with him. With his head on your chest, he melted into your arms. Your fingers raked through his hair, letting each strand curl around your digits.

After a few minutes, he finally calmed down. The only sounds that filled your room were the sounds of both you and his breathing in harmony. You shut your eyes and listened to the soft music.

“Y/N?” Billy asked, interrupting the song.

“Yes?”

“Can you sing that song to me?”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What song?”

“The one you sang in the car the very first time we met.”

A small smile came to your lips before you started singing “Songbird” softly to him. When you finished, you thought he was sound asleep. You shut your eyes and began to drift when Billy spoke.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered into the still air.

You planted a slow and soft kiss onto his messy hair.

“I love you too, Billy. Like never before.”

He let out a long breath before the two of you finally drifted off to sleep, wrapped tightly in each other’s arms.  

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[randomimaginesideas]

The tattoo shop (Klaus x fem!reader) SMUT

Request; Can I please request a klaus hargreeves x female reader imagine with prompts 7 , 8 and 16 please? Can it also be nsfw? Thank u x

7. “I just want you to kiss me.”

8. “What are you doing here?”

16. “You are the reason why I’m such a fucking mess!”

Summary; After Klaus hears that the apocalypse is near he goes to visit one of his lost loves.

A/N; I went a bit overboard with this one, I’m sorry in advance. I’m also sorry if the smut is very bad, it has been a while. Please let me know what you think of this since I’m very curious.

9Trigger) warnings; SMUT! (I suppose sub!Klaus, like a little and choking kink), swearing

The world was ending. Five had made that very clear. They needed to stop the apocalypse from happening, and all they had was a name. Harold Jenkins. Klaus thought back of Dave, one of the only people he truly loved.

One of. His mind drifted to the only other person he had truly loved. (Y/N). Abruptly Klaus stood up, silencing Allison, Five and Luther who were discussing where to find Vanya, and Harold Jenkins. ‘Yeah, you figure all that out. I have somewhere to go.’ Klaus said and walked out of the living room without saying another world.

He opened the front door and then the gate. Klaus had a feeling where you would be hanging around.

Lady Em’s Tattoo Shop

Klaus stood in front of the tattoo shop, hoping that you were at work today. He made his way towards the door when he saw the sign hanging on the door. Closed for lunch, come back at 13:00. Klaus sighed and went to the display window, hoping to see somebody.

At the counter, he saw a girl with bleached white hair eating her sandwich and sitting on her phone. ‘Em! Emily!’ Klaus said banging on the glass. When he saw Emily turn around he waved at her with his “Hello” hand.

Emily stood up with a scowl on her face and opened the door. ‘What do you want dipshit?’ She said standing in the doorway, ‘I just want to talk to (Y/N), Em.’ Klaus said, holding up his hands. ‘I come in peace.’ He continued with a slight smile.

‘What makes you think she wants to see you?’ Em said annoyed, still not moving from the doorway. ‘I don’t care, I just need to see here. She can kick me out herself if she wants too.’ Klaus said calmly.

He never liked Emily, and she never liked him. But since she was your best friend Emily liked Klaus even less seeing as you and he broke up. Emily let out a huff but she moved out of the way. Klaus moved to go inside but a hand to his chest stopped him in his tracks. ‘If you even breathe in the wrong direction I will fucking end you. Am I clear?’ Emily whispered in his ear.

‘Clearer than crystal you can’t get.’ Klaus said with a grin. ‘She’s in the back, in her office.’ Emily said grabbing her coat off the counter and grabbing the sandwich. ‘I’m going out for a walk, and if she’s crying by the time I come back,-’ Emily started again. Klaus waved his goodbye hand. ‘I know you’ll end me. Have a good day Em.’ Klaus sat going through the door that went to the back of the shop.

Your office door was slightly ajar. You were sitting in front of your desk, a big piece of paper in front of you. It seemed to be a big detailed floral pattern, black and grey. Flowers always were your speciality.

You were so focused on your design that you hadn’t noticed that Klaus stood in the doorway. ‘It looks beautiful.’ Klaus said suddenly, which startled you. ‘What are you doing here?’ You sneered at him. ‘I just needed to see you.’ Klaus said entering your office, and he looked at you.

You hadn’t changed much in the past year. He noticed that you had added some tattoos to your arms, flower patterns. He already loved them. ‘Well, you can go again.’ You said standing up, cleaning the drawing sheet. ‘(Y/N) I know we ended on bad terms but just talk to me, please.’ Klaus took a step closer. ‘Why are you here Klaus?’ You asked again folding your arms together. ‘Well, to tell the truth. I just heard that the apocalypse is near and all I thought about was seeing you for one last time.’ Klaus said calmly.

While you let that sink in Klaus looked around your office, it was messy. Papers, pencils, and old Chinese take out laid all over the place. Klaus was quite shocked. He knew how much you hated the mess. You would yell at him to clean up after himself because if the place was a mess your mind was a mess you would always say.

Klaus looked at you again, and you let out a laugh. ‘Really? That’s the excuse your going with?’ You asked him flabbergasted. ‘Look (Y/N), I know you’ve probably already moved on,-’ You interrupted him by holding up your hand.

‘Move on? I did not move on. I already told you that when you left, when you ran away from me.  No matter what I do or what you do some part of me will always be stuck on you. Why? I have no idea. Maybe because you’re the first person I ever truly unconditionally loved. Maybe because you’re the only one who is able to put me under this much hurt. No matter the reason, I could never stop loving you. You want to know why it’s such a mess here? It’s because I’m a fucking mess. And you want to know why I am such a mess? You are! You are the reason why I’m such a fucking mess!’ You were yelling at the end of your speech, tears streaming down your face.

Klaus had truly fucked you up, he realised that, and he was going to make it up to you. Klaus took three steps towards you, grabbed your face between his hands and pressed his lips against yours. You stood still for a moment, but then he felt your lips moving against yours. The kiss started to become heated, and when you both pulled away for air Klaus said; ‘You are my best friend, my human diary and my other half. You mean the world to me and I love you.’

You looked Klaus in the eye, grabbed his shirt with your fist, turned him around, pressed him against the wall and pressed your lips roughly against him. Klaus grabbed your hips and pulled you against him. Your hands went to his shoulders, pulling his jacket off. ‘Are you sure?’ Klaus mumbled between kisses. ‘I’ve never been surer.’ You said taking a step back and pulling your (F/C) t-shirt over your head, revealing your (R/C) lace bra.

‘What are you waiting for Klaus? I’ve heard the world is going to end soon.’ You said with a wink. Klaus didn’t know how fast he had to go towards you. Clothes were thrown around the room, eventually leaving Klaus naked, and you in just your bra and lacy panties. Meanwhile, you had pushed Klaus on your desk, his cock standing erect. You started pressing kisses along his jawline, down his neck and chest, slowly going to your knees.

You started pressing kisses along his cock. ‘Oh, god (Y/N)!’ Klaus let out a groan, a smile on your face. You kissed the tip of his cock, and slowly took him into your mouth. Another groan came out of Klaus his mouth. You started bopping your head up and down, sliding your tong along his shaft. One of his Klaus his hand made his way towards your (H/C) locks, and hold them tightly.

You took Klaus his cock as far as you could in your mouth, the part that didn’t fit anymore you stroked with your hands. ‘Oooh, I’ve missed this.’ Klaus moaned, tugging your hair slightly. You felt his cock twitch in your mouth, and you let go of his cock, giving a slight lick over the tip. You slowly stood up, pulling your panties down. You climbed on top of Klaus and sat down on his lap, his cock sliding around your opening. You let out a moan.

Klaus his hand went to your back, unclasping your bra and letting it fall down on the ground. You moved your hips over his cock, letting out a moan. ‘Honey, if you don’t stop I’m gonna pop before you even have any use of me.’ Klaus moaned and he pressed a kiss on your lips. You grinned and lifted your hips a little, Klaus moved his own hips and his cock slid into you. You and Klaus let out a loud moan at the same time.

You had to get used to Klaus being inside you again since it had been a while you had sex in general. When you felt you were good to go, you started moving your hips. Klaus his hands were placed on your hips, guiding you and helping you set the pace. Your own hands sliding around Klaus his neck, squeezing slightly.

Klaus closed his eyes in bliss. You kept moving your hips, picking up the pace, losing your hold on Klaus his neck, letting him breathe and then squeezing again. You felt the heat build up inside you. Then Klaus picked up the pace, bouncing you up and down, one of his hand going between your legs finding your bundle of nerves, and he started rubbing it.  You let go of his neck, ‘I’-I’m close.’ You whispered. ‘Me too.’ Klaus said.

You and Klaus both picked up the pace, getting sloppy in the end, both just wanting to finish. ‘I’m, I’m coming.’ Klaus said, and you felt his cock twitch inside of you. You nodded, and you both screamed when your release hits you.

You both were panting when you were done, you placed your foreheads against his. ‘I love your (Y/N) (Y/L/N).’ Klaus said softly. ‘I love you too Klaus Hargreeves.’ You said and you placed a peck on his lips.

‘(Y/N), is that dip-shit of an ex-boyfriend gone yet?’ Emily asks walking in. She looks up, seeing you and Klaus together, naked on the desk. ‘OH MY-,’ the door quickly closed again. ‘I’m back Em! We’re going to have so much fun!’ Klaus called after her and you laughed. Truly feeling happy again.

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