#Steve would be the funniest if he suddenly got power | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sharlmbracta · 4 months

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CONTENT WARNING: everyone is ruined. Stereotypes everywhere. this shit is so bad it turns a whopping 360 it turns good

cherry-picking chapters are encouraged yes

arranged for myself the funniest excerpts from the funniest chapters i deemed so

if someone else somehow clicks to my horrible tastes as well. then uh. hell yeah.

Chapter 1:

“Zuko? What are you doing?” he asked upon seeing the prince loading up a dinky little ship that looked totally out of place beside the naval fleet.

“I’m going to capture the avatar and restore my Xbox privileges,” Zuko decreed. Shortly thereafter, the plank lifted, and Ozai could only stare in disbelief as the ship pulled away from the dock.

“Goodbye, Father!” Zuko shouted, waving at him from the deck of the ship as he grew smaller and smaller — further away with every passing second.

Chapter 38:

“THEIR,” Ozai screamed.

“WHERE?”

“AZULA’S PRONOUNS…” Ozai passed out on the bathroom floor.

“My God, his whole personality was in that beard,” Steve realized. “His whole ideology. The core of who he is…” He panicked, and it dawned on him what he had to do. “I’ve got to keep him drugged until it grows back.”

Chapter 45:

The door burst open, and Jet walked in, his mouth wheat rippling menacingly in the breeze. Zuko wondered about that mouth wheat whenever they encountered each other. Did he put the same wheat in his mouth every day? Wouldn’t it get soggy after a while? If not, then where was he finding wheat in Ba Sing Se? Was he at least washing it before he put it in his mouth?

“I’m telling you, these people are firebenders!” he cried for the sixteenth time since Zuko and Iroh had started working in the tea shop. The wheat bobbed in his mouth. Zuko had never seen Jet without his wheat. Why did he always have it? Was it like a pacifier? Did he just like the taste? Did he take it out to eat? Did he eat in the first place? Was Jet even human?

Chapter 49: Short Feng

The pair of Dai Li agents thrust Long Feng forward, and he fell on his face at Azula’s feet. She reached down and placed a hand on his forehead like she was about to Amon away his bending (seriously, did they just never explain how Amon could do that?)

Instead, a transformation took place. A blinding light shooting out from his body, Long Feng shrank and compressed like he’d been put in a trash compactor where he belonged. When the light faded, he was no longer Long Feng.

Chapter 51:

Suddenly, Ozai heelied into the war room, wearing shutter shades, a mesh crop top that said “my eyes are up here (only Steve is allowed to look at my abs),” and booty shorts that said “heelies to escape my feelies” on the ass.

“I’m so tired of formal wear,” he remarked, climbing onto the throne. Unused to his new heelies, he nearly tripped going up the stairs.

“Dad… why…” Azula groaned, covering her face with her hands. She couldn’t look. Maybe one day, she would be a powerful enough firebender to burst into flame on the spot just so she wouldn’t have to deal with this.

Chapter 3:

“Fire Lord Ozai is no more! From this day forward, I shall be known as… Fucking Fire Lord Ozai!” he announced, and the crowd went bonkers.

“Sweet, does that mean that I’m the Fucking Princess?” Azula piped up again.

“No, dumbass. I just told you that you get to be the regular fire lord,” he barked.

Chapter 4:

Without any warning, somebody kicked through the door like the beginning of the timeless masterpiece that is the first Shrek movie.

“Father, I have captured the avatar!” Zuko announced. “Where’s my Xbox?” He turned to the bald little kid lingering behind him. “Oh, yeah, Aang, meet my dad, and Dad, this is Aang. Where’s my Xbox?” he repeated obnoxiously.

“Nice to meet you, Mister Fire Lord,” Aang said pleasantly.

Chapter 14:

Ozai clambered to his feet, and held the noodle picture up against the wall, across from the pile of hay. “I think I’ll put it right here. How does that look?”

“I like it. I’ll come visit again, and I’ll bring real food next time. And I won’t make fun of you, either,” Aang promised. “See ya!”

“Thanks, kid.” Ozai cracked a weary smile for perhaps the first time since his imprisonment. Perhaps the noodle fanart would ward off the ghost.

Chapter 22:

“Okay, Silent But Deadly, do your thing,” Ozai commanded.

Silent But Deadly inhaled deeply, his third eye glowing. A sudden explosion tore the room into fragments, the deafening boom setting off car alarms and making dogs bark several dimensions over. Azulon’s guts sprayed everywhere. It was metal as fuck.

“What the hell?” Ozai screamed to make himself heard above the ringing in everyone’s ears. “That wasn’t silent!”

Chapter 24:

“I know you’re looking to find out what’s in the attic,” she said. “Your mother doesn’t want me to tell you this, but it’s her stash. It’s no normal pot, though. It’s a strain she cultivated herself called Waxy Meatball Frozen Zipper. She doesn’t want you two smoking any because it’s extremely rare and hard to grow, not to mention that you have to be a level 57 anarchist to use it to teleport like she does.”

“Use it to teleport?” Azula echoed. “That’s what all this was? So she wasn’t a hallucination all those other times?”

“She was real, all right.” June disappeared back into the rafters. “Ask her for some once you’ve thrown bricks at a few more banks. See you guys at dinner.”

Chapter 23 (cw politics(?)):

Iroh t-posed in the middle of the battlefield, levitating menacingly. Time slowed around him. He really hated to invoke his god-powers, but things were getting ridiculous. “Why can’t I just run my fuckin’ tea shop in peace?” he sighed quietly, then with a roar, he announced, “I DECLARE THE FIRE NATION TO BE A CAPITALIST-COMMUNIST ANARCHO-FASCIST STATE. AND I WILL BE LEADER.”

The fighting stopped. “Dude, all right, sounds good to me.” Zuko tossed aside the fifteen guns he’d brought out of his gun room.

Chapter 52:

Ozai was considering hopping inside to get a milkshake, but just then, the avatar rolled up in a slick black Mercedes. Aang flicked off his sunglasses, tore off his shirt, and slammed the car door shut. “Do you want to fucking go, old man?” he challenged him. “Do you want to fucking go inside and discuss this over a lovely meal instead of resorting to violence?”

Ozai wished that he, too, could slam his car door in a display of masculine fury, but the minivan door glided shut calmly. Ozai tore off his shirt, circling the avatar. “I will fuck you up!” he threatened. With all that fire burning, it was hot out, and he really wanted that milkshake. “Let’s settle this like men! Over a menu!”

Chapter 1:

“Wait! It was just a joke! I’ll give you your Xbox back! Please! Come home, son!” he yelled from the shore. “Please…”

A single tear slid down his cheek. If only he hadn’t been so cruel.

#atla #fic #crack #crackfic #comedy #ao3 #ozai #zuko #azula #ursa #aang #iroh #long feng #azulon #pronouns #heelies #xbox #fic recommendations #(?)#sparky sparky boom man #LONG POST

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passivenovember · 3 years

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You Look Stupid When You’re Sad.

Steve Harrington smelled of sour patch kids and unbaked cookie dough.

Billy didn't think it was a bad smell, exactly, just weird; intense, heady, and stuck to the walls of his brain. Doughy when the sunlight couldn't dry the track marks of Steve's sweat before nap time, heady when it got into Billy's system and stuck with him like the thrum of his heartbeat.

Wherever Billy went Steve Harrington was there. Like a shadow. A noisy, scrawny, wire-frame glasses wearing shadow that elbowed its way into the chair across from Billy's during lunch and followed him around at recess; three feet behind and always pretending to spot interesting shapes in the clouds when he thought Billy wasn't looking, but.

Billy was always looking.

It was so weird.

Steve was so weird. The way he made bright, happy noises when he was paired with Billy for station time, how he always drug his mat over from the other side of the room to sleep next to Billy when it was time to zonk out after second recess despite knowing that the spot was saved for Barbara, Billy's actual best friend.

She got nightmares and Billy liked to be there to hold her hand while she dreamed but every afternoon, without fail, Steve came wondering over with his lip stuck out in a question.

It was confusing.

Steve was so confusing. The way he hugged his mat to his chest, chin quivering with a little, "Okay. Sorry, Bills." Every time Billy slapped his hand on the carpet and growled that the spot was taken. Occupation, not reserved for pasty-kneed dorks with wire frame glasses, and.

Billy didn't want to make the kid cry, or anything, but he always managed to do just that. Paint himself as a bad guy.

Billy rubbed his forehead as Barb settled in on his left hand side one afternoon after such an altercation, smiling so big her lips disappeared behind the plastic frames of her glasses.

"What's wrong, Stevie?" She asked, and.

Billy tried not to be jealous.

Steve hiccupped, cheeks growing redder by the second. "I wanna nap with you guys but Billy won't let me."

"Hey, that's not--"

"You can sleep with us if you want to. Billy has a really big blanket, maybe he can share with both of us." Barbara looked at him expectantly, like. "Right Billy?"

And it was dumb.

It was so dumb, that they were staring at him with hopeful eyes and Steve's chin was still quivering and Billy didn't want to be the bad guy; he wasn't Mesogog and he didn't want to hurt the kid's feelings, but.

Steve Harrington got under his skin. With his soft hair and big brown eyes, always following Billy around and begging for the space to be made. Billy got clumsy and nervous when Bambi was nearby, and.

The idea of sharing space. Sleeping next to Steve with his chirpy little noises and warm soft hands, it.

Made Billy feel like he was breaking out in itchy red bumps.

No.

He would stick to his guns; the blanket just wasn't big enough for three people. But then, Billy's grumpy brain supplied, Steve could steal Barbara and keep her as his own best friend if Billy didn't let him stay, so. It was time to cut his losses.

"God, you look stupid when you're sad." Billy muttered.

Steve started crying again.

Billy really wished he'd stop that.

"I'm sorry, Billy. I know I'm dumb but I don't mean to be." Steve whimpered. He tucked his mat under his arm and made to get up.

And leave.

As if Billy would let Steve make him look bad in front of everyone, especially Barbara.

"Lay down, dork." Billy grumbled, tugging the blanket up around his shoulders and peeling it back for Steve reluctantly.

Harrington's smile was so bright it could've melted crayons when he settled in close, chirping happily as Billy pulled the blanket around them and tucked in on impulse. The room went dark, Mr. Talamantez reminding them to count butterflies if sleep wouldn't come.

It didn't.

Steve smelled too much like cream and sugar for Billy to get any rest at all.

"Whatcha making, Billy?" Steve asked, pink tongue poking out in concentration as he peered over Billy's arm at his art project.

A stack of pink and red construction paper was Billy's favorite thing in the world because it meant endless possibilities. Pink was soft and sweet, red was passionate and cool. Like hot wheels and firetrucks and hearts full of warm oven mitts, so.

He pulled the leaflets from his backpack during circle time and got busy, carefully folding the delicate paper hamburger style and then tracing swirly, dramatic lines for each heart on the page.

Valentines was Billy's most favorite day of the year.

Even more than Christmas, even more than his birthday, and only a little bit more than Halloween because on Valentines? The whole universe was covered in flowers and little tin wrapped chocolates and love hearts were the best thing for a kid to make with scissors.

Billy ignored Steve's tongue, turning his shoulders to the room. "I'm making love hearts."

"For who?"

"None of your beeswax."

"Okay," Steve said happily, grabbing a handful of markers and re-situating himself much closer than Billy would've liked. Steve's Nike's tapped the itsy-bitsy-spider on the rug as he declared, "I'm drawing batman on a surfboard!"

And Billy tossed aside his first ruined Valentine. "Oh cool, I don't remember asking."

"That's okay," Steve giggled. "Sometimes I get motor mouth. My Daddy says it's 'cause I'm a fruit."

"My daddy called me that sometimes before he got sick." Billy turned to glare at him. "That's not a good thing."

"It is to me!" Steve giggled again. He was always doing that. "I like Kiwis. My mommy packed some for lunch and I had them for breakfast. They're yummy in geek yogurt. They make me smile because they have beards!"

Steve cackled like kiwi's having beards was the funniest thing on earth and Billy wondered what there was to be so happy about.

He tried not to smile at Steve's dumb face. "I think you mean Greek yogurt."

"Yeah, probably. If I'm like a kiwi, that's alright, I think." Steve's tongue poked out again. "Surfboards make me think of you." He declared, and.

Steve smelled like toasted chocolate on s'mores, his hands somehow kicking up more of his sugary sweet odor each time he reached for a new piece of paper. Billy didn't know how he was supposed to get anything done when his circle buddy smelled like a chocolate birthday cake.

It was kinda gross.

Billy pulled out a sliver marker and traced Stinky Butt Max on one of the smaller Valentines, remembering to fold down the corners so the sensitive skin on her palms wouldn't get hurt when she inevitably started smacking him it.

The pink Valentine looked more like a chewed up Starburst gummy this way, but. Max wouldn't know the difference.

Steve peered over his shoulder again, cooing softly. Like a baby dove. "That ones pretty, Bills! Is Max your Valentine?"

"Ew," Billy wrinkled his nose like he sometimes did when Max needed a diaper change. "She's my baby sister, don't be an Ick Monster."

"What's an Ick Monster?"

"Somebody who makes weird jokes and says weird things, so." Billy shrugged, scrawling his mothers name on a second love heart. He poked Steve's tummy with his marker. "That's you, I think."

Steve giggled before slapping Billy's hand away, and. Watching him work.

After a while Steve inched closer. "So you don't have a Valentine?" He wondered, and.

Billy didn't understand the question. "Mr. Talamantez said we're all each other's Valentines so nobody feels sad."

"Yeah, but. Everybody has someone they want to smooch on Valentines." Steve started playing with his hair, fingers twisting waves in a sea of brown, like they sometimes did when he was nervous. "Someone they like best-best. Better than all the other kids."

Now it was Billy's turn to giggle. "That's icky."

"Smooching?" Steve's eyes sparkled. "It's fun sometimes."

"Like you've ever kissed anyone."

Steve looked offended. "Have too."

"Have not."

"Have too," Steve pouted, crossing his arms.

Billy began work on a third Valentine. "Who did you kiss?"

"Nancy Wheeler."

Billy snorted, not sure if he wanted to imagine Steve kissing Nancy Wheeler, or. Kissing at all.

Steve's chin started quivering. "You don't believe me?"

"No." Billy said lightly, capping the marker with a sniff.

Kissing was not fun. It was wet and violent and looked like it maybe hurt a little bit, the way he'd seen his mom and Susan kiss when he got up to go potty at night. Billy regarded Steve through easy, narrowed eyes; Steve wasn't the kind of boy who kissed like that.

"How come you're so weird?" Billy wondered.

"I like being weird." Steve said, reaching for a green marker to color in his surfboard. Steve nodded at the small pile of Valentine's strewn on the carpet between them. "You should put the love hearts on foam when you're done."

"I was already gonna do that, genius."

Billy wasn't already going to do that, but he'd eat a centipede before he let Harrington know he came up with a good idea.

"They could be superhero colors!" Steve hollered suddenly. He was so loud all the time. "That way your mommy and sissy can know that you love them because they're cool. Like Aqua-man."

Billy frowned, watching Steve fold his Batman drawing over and over again until it all but disappeared from sight. He leaned back against the wall with an eye roll, shocked out how much Harrington lacked any concept of taste, or.

Shame.

"Aqua-man isn't cool," Billy said. Because Aqua-man wasn't, he was like. The lamest of them all. "His only power is making the bad guys drown, at least the other heroes can punch really hard."

"Punching isn't always the best, though." Steve tucked Batman into the front pocket of his shirt, leaning into Billy's space. "Sometimes punching just makes the bad guys stronger. Like Wilson Fisk."

Billy frowned. "Punching works for Spiderman."

Steve considered this fact, pink tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth again. He thought really hard for a long time, as if Steve didn't have Spiderman socks on everyday at recess when he removed his Nike's to fill them with rocks.

Such a weird guy.

Finally, Steve smiled. "I like water, though. Your eyes are like water. From the fountain in the hallway, and like the lake at camp." Steve pushed his way into Billy's space, frowning with his head cocked to the side like there was more thinking to cross of the list. "You're very pretty, Billy. Like a cloud."

And.

Billy didn't have the words to articulate the way Steve's smell went a little crazy after that, like a bag of powdered sugar had caught fire from a signal light once he realized what he'd said. Billy waited for Steve to take it back, because.

Boys calling other boys pretty wasn't allowed in Mr. Talamantez' classroom, or. Anywhere else.

Steve didn't take it back.

"You wouldn't like Aqua-Man's water, 'cause you'd drown." Billy said, getting back to work on his Valentines if only for a distraction from the way Steve was watching him. "He doesn't control his power very well and sometimes the mean guys get hurt real bad."

Steve kept right on talking. "I wouldn't be a mean guy though," He reasoned, sliding impossibly closer on the alphabet rug. "I'd help him fight crimes. Like Captain Underpants!"

And.

Billy had nothing to say to that, sucked in and drowning by the way Steve's eyes were glittering.

"You're a weird guy, you know?" Billy breathed.

Steve's giggle went right to Billy's tummy, teaching it to do backflips, somehow.

"That's okay." Steve said, reaching back for a fresh piece of paper. "You'll remember me better and maybe you'll ask me to be your Valentine."

Steve's hair fell across his eyes, head bopping along to whatever song he was singing to himself today. His lips glittered like a frosted donut. Like he'd been eating a strawberry ice cream cone instead of confusing all the boys around him.

Maybe you'll ask me to be your Valentine.

Huh.

Billy started work on a new love heart and pretended not to notice.

On Tuesday morning Billy woke to the smell of pancakes and fresh squeezed orange juice.

Maxine was already up.

Her long red hair was piled on top of her head in two Princess Leia buns. Susan had put in little heart clips and the pink dress Billy's mommy had made special was already covered in mashed banana and something that looked like magic marker.

She was all ready for Valentines day.

Billy didn't understand why they bothered trying to make her look dainty when Max was more interested in destroying Billy's favorite toys and starting fires.

She sat on the floor of the room they shared together, sucking her thumb and playing with Billy's favorite race car. Her wet, chubby fingers made the blue Camaro shine brightly with spit and Billy felt like his face was burning up.

"Hey," He said, rubbing at his eyes. "Hey, you're getting spit all over my--"

"Race car!"

Max held it out to him triumphantly. Billy frowned, moving to grab it from her chubby little fist. "I know that's my race--"

"It's a blue car," Max said thoughtfully. She looked at him, like, "Blue cars are my favorite."

"It's my favorite too--"

"Can we share?" Max wondered, putting the little wheels on Billy's knee and letting the car zoom back and forth. He imagined that Evel Knievel was in the drivers seat wondering why his car wasn't first in the race.

She looked happy, like always, to be playing with Billy's toys.

He sighed. "Yeah, I guess we can share. It's Valentine's Day."

Max seemed to enjoy that. "I like today!"

"You do?"

"Yup," She said happily, little chubby fingers tangling in Billy's hair because he hadn't brushed it yet. "Candy and sour gummy worms and kisses from cute boys!"

Billy glared. "You're kissing cute boys?"

"Uh-huh!" Max hollered. "Lucas gave me a dandelion."

Billy thought long and hard.

About Valentines Day and all the things that came with it. The pink shirt that hung pressed in his closet, fresh cupcakes with plastic rings, a bag of Scooby-doo Valentines Susan had picked up at the market for all his classmates, homemade love hearts at the bottom of his backpack. Three with red foam, one with a delicate lace doily, and.

Kisses.

Max was getting flowers and kisses from a boy.

From someone special.

Billy took the race car from Max's hand and drove it around, thinking about boys with brown eyes and soft hands.

Maybe you'll ask me to be your Valentine.

"Wanna eat some breakfast, Max?"

"I had 'nanas." She said with a smirk.

Billy hummed, standing to get dressed. "Mama probably made chocolate chip pancakes, you don't wanna eat something special?"

Max's little red eyebrows pinched together. "I can have yours?"

And.

Billy didn't know what was so necessary to her about taking everything that was his. Playing with his toys, sleeping in his pj's, eating his breakfast, it was like Max didn't know how take something and make it her own.

Billy pulled the pink shirt over his head, feeling every bit like a turtle when Max did the same with the collar of her dress.

"You can have my pancakes." Billy concluded, puffing out his chest. "If you'll be my Valentine."

"You don't have a boy to kiss?"

"I might," Billy picked the race car off the ground with a smile. "This is practice for when I see him at school. So, will you be my Valentine?"

She thought about it.

Long and hard, tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth, before nodding with her entire body. "I think he will."

Billy sighed. "Really?"

"If you give him sour gummy worms and smooch his forehead he will," Max said.

And.

Maybe things would turn out okay. Billy nodded, grabbing the race car and driving it across Max's forehead, careful that the little plastic wheels didn't get stuck in her hair.

From the stucco ceiling of the classroom beautiful strands of silver and gold hearts painted a mirage of stars.

All the desks had a rose and a cardboard mailbox intended for the delivery of Valentines and at the center of the room a table filled with cupcakes and strawberry Capri-sun packets. Preparation for the party this afternoon, and.

Mr. Talamantez had turned their space into a glittering, perfect fairytale.

Billy hugged his basket of Valentines close to his chest and tried not to search for Steve before dropping his backpack at the cubby station.

He was right in the middle of tugging his special sweater down over his head when Barbara scooted in next to him, pretty in a little pink jumpsuit.

She handed him a tiny, delicate giftbag full of chocolate hearts and dinosaur erasers, smiling from ear to ear as Billy hugged her nice and tight before handing off something he had made special. A tiny paper crane his mommy helped him fold, and a bunch of rainbow goldfish sat nestled in a basket of paper Mache.

They were her favorite snack in the whole world and Barbara was Billy's favorite person, so it seemed fitting.

She hugged him and Billy smiled, peering around the room for a head of wavy brown hair. "We could share our presents with Steve," He muttered, like. It wasn't a big deal or anything. Billy tugged on the sleeves of his red sweater and tried to stay cool. "Where is he?"

Barbara pointed to the book shelves.

Steve was sat under a string of twinkly lights, shoulders tucked against the pillows Mr. Talamantez set aside for circle time. His face was buried in the crook of his elbow, and.

He was crying.

Of course he was crying.

Billy felt the Valentine in his pocket grow heavy.

Barbara said, "Steve broke his glasses, maybe you could make him smile?"

And.

Billy wanted to do that. Longed to make Steve giggle and chirp with happiness like the annoying little Meadowlark he seemed be. It would be so easy to. Walk over there, tap Steve's shoulder, and say the words.

Pose the question.

Will you be my Valentine?

Steve was making huffy, nervous little noises when Billy came to a stop beside him.

"Hey Harrington, playing with all your friends?" Billy sneered, confident that Steve would giggle like he was did, but.

When he finally turned around his face was red and puffy. As if he'd been crying all morning and all night, too.

"What do you want, Billy?" Steve whispered.

He sounded sleepy. Spread thin, like the last spoonful of jam on burned toast.

"What's wrong?" Billy asked carefully. "What happened?"

Steve sat and rubbed at his eyes, chin wobbling as more tears spilled over. "My daddy broke my glasses." He whispered.

And Billy hated it.

He always hated when Steve cried but today. Right now, he.

Felt like he had to do something about it.

Billy took the love heart from his pocket and sat down next to Steve, cuddling back into the pillows until their shoulders were touching. It took all of five seconds for Steve to settle in next to him. Roll his head back against the wall until he was looking at Billy with a question in his eyes.

Steve looked at Billy's shoulder and back up at his face, like.

"Can I--"

"Come here, stupid." Billy grumbled, Pulling Steve in until they were cuddling on the pillows.

Steve chirped. It wasn't his usual sound, light and airy, it was.

Thick.

And heavy.

Like a blanket sopped with rain water. Steve buried his face in Billy's neck. "I don't have any Valentines to give this year."

"That's okay."

"I made something special for you," Steve whispered, pulling back to study Billy's face. "I know Mr. Talamantez said we weren't supposed to, but--"

"Will you be my Valentine?" Billy's stupid mouth said.

Steve blinked at him, and.

Billy wanted to hide in the bathroom for thousand years.

Steve pulled away to sit crisscross-applesauce. Facing Billy, like this was something important. "Huh?"

Billy mirrored him, tucking his hands away so they wouldn't shake when he held out the love heart.

It was pink. Big and bright and outlined with a white doily that Susan helped him glue around the edges. Billy had dug through Max's box of stickers for the one with Winne the Pooh, the one he'd been saving for someone special. Winnie was covered in tiny valentines, eating right out of a jar of honey with a butterfly sitting on his nose, and.

Billy had thought it was perfect.

He worked for hours on the font. The saying that made his mommy laugh when he read it to her; you're bear-y sweet. Be my Valentine.

Steve took the love heart in his hands, and.

Didn't say anything.

Billy frowned. "I just. Remember you asked me to be your Valentine, or. For you to be mine. And--" His hands were shaking again. "It's stupid. God, this is--"

Steve leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

It was gentle. Like the brush of butterfly wings, barely there and then gone before Billy had a chance to really register the movement, or. Think about what it could mean.

Steve wasn't crying anymore when he said, "I'll be your Valentine."

Billy's brain took a minute to catch up. "Huh?"

"I'll be your Valentine, Billy." Steve giggled, staring down at the love heart once more. "This is so cute. I loved Winnie the Pooh when I was a baby. My mom always put me in footie pajamas that had Eeyore on them. And tinker bell too, sometimes. You could've put the Red power ranger on there instead. He's my favorite--"

Billy sat back against the pillows.

He was learning that Steve Harrington was weird.

Like a puzzle with one piece missing, or. An empty tube of bubble mix. Steve was colorful and loud and all over the place with opinions. He shined bright and loved hard, and.

Sometimes it was best to sit back and listen.

Happy Valentines Day!!

I really just sat down and wrote this. Wow. Anyway--thank you for reading and supporting my work. Your comments and endless kindness keep me going when I don't always feel like trucking on, and I wanted to do something to remind you that if this was an elementary school classroom I would give you so many lollipops.

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #valentines day #first kiss #kidfic #soft billy hargrove #I know I'm late #but I love ya #and I will everyday #so really #everyday is valentines #not to be a fucking sap #but it;s true

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cryingoverafictionalcharacter · 4 years

Text

You Aren't Fragile

Prompt: After a mission gone wrong y/n is determined to get back into fighting shape, even better than they were before. Bucky notices, and is there when she inevitably wears herself out.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, injury to reader, swearing

Word count: 2K

PART 2 IS UP

Running through the forest, a car, a burst of light and I was on the ground. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t see, I couldn’t think. All I could feel was the blood pooling out of my side. As my vision began to clear, I looked up at the trees, the clouds, snow just beginning to fall gently landed on my face.

“I am going to die”

As my vision began to get hazy again, I could feel someone lifting me from the base of my back, forcing me to sit up slightly. My vision focused and landed on a set of perfect blue eyes. Bucky Barnes. My best friend. My partner in crime. And my long time crush. It was silly, to have a crush with my best friend, so cliché, but as his eyes met mine, a wave of comfort washed over me, I wasn’t alone. He was here with me. I was ok. And then the world went dark.

I shot upwards in bed, causing a pain to temporarily rip up my side, before taking account of my surroundings. I was in my bed back at the compound. I looked over at the clock on my nightstand, which read 3:24 AM. I sighed, rolling out of bed and changing into some sweats and a tank top, wincing as my arm raised, causing the wound on my side to flare up.

It had been a month since the explosion. It had left an almost foot long scar running from the middle of my ribs to just above my hip. Bucky had carried me back to the quin-jet, and with the help of Natalie and Steve, were able to stabilize me until I got to a hospital. I was in a coma for three days, and hospitalized for another four, before being ordered to bed rest for at least four weeks. During my time in the hospital, the team visited me as often as they could, but Bucky never left my side, bringing me books, and even reading a few to me when I got too tired. They were all so supportive, but a feeling kept eating away at my brain.

I had failed.

I didn’t have magic powers or a super serum to thank for my skills or to keep me safe. I had trained since I was a child, forced to become a lethal fighting machine, which was a great help to the Avengers, and I was happy to be a part of the team. But I was constantly questioning myself. Was I good enough to be here? Was I strong enough? The explosion only furthered my anxiety, and I knew I had to become better.

I made my way to the gym and made my way to a punching bag. I had gotten a bit out of shape in the month and a half on bed rest, but I was ready to get back on the saddle. I needed to be better.

I rolled my shoulders, trying to relax my muscles, focusing on the bag in front of me. I jabbed with my right arm, and felt pain shoot from my knuckles down to my injured side. I paused, trying to breath through the pain, before striking again with my left hand finding a very similar pain flow down my body. This continued for a few minutes, me punching and trying to move through the pain, pretending like the pain wasn’t there, all the while chanting in my head 'you've been through worse, you’ve been through worse’. That was until I got carried away, whipping my right leg to strike the bag, and as my shin made contact, the pain in my side radiated throughout my entire body, causing me to collapse with a shocked gasp.

I collapsed onto my hands and knees, my left hand gripping my right side, and tears flowing out of my eyes at the sheer amount of pain. I was only down for a few seconds before I heard footsteps rushing towards me, followed by a hand resting on my back.

“Y/n what happened are you doing”? It was Bucky. Of course it was. The man who always found me at my weakest.

“Go away”! I yelled, shoving him away which only resulted in more pain, resulting in me falling into the same position as before, both arms wrapped around my torso.

“Please” I sobbed, not nearly as loud as before “Please just leave me alone” For a moment the room was silent, the only sound being me trying to suppress my crying. Then, I felt that same reassuring hand, lifting me to my feet.

“You know I can’t just leave you here doll” Bucky said softly, like he was talking to a wounded animal. He gently helped me to my feet, before I lashed out once again.

“I can do it myself” I said, pushing him away, only to almost fall again, but Bucky was there to catch me, lifting me off my feet and carrying me back to my room. This time I didn’t fight it.

He sat me down on my bed and I dangled my legs over the side, allowing Bucky to sit next to me after he turned on the lamp next to my bed. We sat there for what felt like hours, but in reality was probably only a few seconds. I didn’t want to be here. I just wanted to curl up in a ball and stop existing. But no matter how much I looked at the floor, Bucky continued to look at me.

“Why are you doing this to yourself, doll” He asked suddenly. I caught me off guard, and I didn’t respond right away, so he continued. “You were in a coma not even two months ago. You’ve been on bed rest since last week. You’re not even supposed to lift heavy objects why do you think you can do this”?

“I need to do it,” I said quietly, but this wasn’t a good enough answer.

“You don’t need to do anything, you need time to heal, you’re broken and-” I didn’t let him finish

“I’m not broken!” I screamed standing but Bucky stayed still, afraid that any movement from him would make my reaction worse. “I am not some fragile piece of glass. I was raised to be a killing machine! I’ve killed people Bucky! I’m trying so hard to get my life back, to do better, to help people but I am constantly reminded that I am weak! I don't have super strength, I don't have super healing, I’m just a nobody, and I need to prove that I’m worthy to be on this team!”

The room was silent after that, Bucky looking at me with an expression that I could only describe as sadness. He slowly stood, walking over to where I stood across from him, gently bringing a hand up to wipe away tears that I hadn’t realized had fallen, before gently cupping my face.

“You aren’t a fragile piece of glass, and you aren't some nobody, not to the team. Not to me” He said, and that was all it took for me to break down completely. I rested my head on his chest, and sobbed, I let out every anxiety, and fear and pain I had been holding onto for all this time, and he just held me until all that was left was me.

“Why are you taking care of me”? I asked finally, being able to catch my breath and wipe my tears away. “I know we are partners and everything, but you came every day while I was in the hospital. You didn’t have to do that”

“Y/n. On that day, when the explosion happened, I saw you get hit, and the whole time I was running to you, I was pleading, praying, begging any otherworldly force just please, don’t let her be dead. But then I got to you, and you were just so still” I could hear Bucky holding back tears. “I couldn’t stand the thought of having to live in this world without you”

It was now Bucky's turn to look at the floor. “When you were in your coma, I never left. I slept in a chair right by your side, I read to you every day. Told you all the things I wish I had told you while you were awake… Please y/n, I need you to be ok” He finished, finally looking back into my eyes, waiting for a reaction.

“What did you say?” I asked after a moment, causing him to look confused. “What did you say that you wish you could have told me while I was awake”?

Bucky let out a breath, moving his hands to gently rest on either side of my face. “I told you how on the first day you walked into the compound, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. How when you made fun of Steve's’ whole language bit, I knew that I had fallen for you. I told you that I wish I had made you laugh more while you were still awake, because it's my favorite sound and the thought of never hearing your voice again broke my heart. I told you that in the last three years in working together, I have fallen so, terrifyingly in love with you, and that I didn’t know what I’d do if you didn’t wake up” There was a beat of silence, tears now starting to form in both of our eyes at his confession “You’re not fragile y/n, you're the strongest, most determined, funniest, kindest, most beautiful person I’ve ever met, and I need you to take care of yourself, because I don’t know what I’ll do if you get hurt like that again”

I slowly moved my hands up to meet his face, in the same manner his hands were on mine, before finally connecting my lips to his. He seemed to see it coming, because he took no time to respond. It was passionate, but not in a way that is lustful and rushed, but in a way where I was finally able to see him for the first time. It was slow, and kind, and it felt like I had finally come home.

He was the first to pull away, looking into my eyes and smiling, before reconnecting, this time with even more passion than before, moving his hands to my back pressing me closer to him, swiping his tongue along my bottom lip which I gladly accepted. We went like this for a while, before he pulled again once again when he felt my hands move from his face to his chest.

“Sorry, did I do something wrong”? I asked, panicked that I was moving too fast, which caused him to laugh, placing his hands on top of mine.

“No you’re not doing anything wrong, there's nothing I want more than to take this further, I’ve waited literal years to take this further, but you are still hurt, and I don’t want you bleeding all over the place when we get to there” He said, causing heat to rise to my cheeks, but also to cause a laugh to erupt from my chest.

“You do have a point” I laughed, leaning into him again, this time in a hug, allowing the feeling of comfort to come over me.

“I promise as soon as you’re better I’ll help you train and let you beat me up as much as you want until you feel confident, and let me show you how much I’ve been wanting to do this, But for now do you think you can stick to your bed rest? Just for a while longer?” He asked, pulling away to look into my eyes.

“I mean, I’ve waited this long to jump your bones, I guess a few more weeks won't hurt” I stated, causing him to chuckle “But I still want you to come read to me and stuff”

“Of course, I wouldn’t have it any other way”

______________________________________________________________

Hope you guys liked it! LMK if you think this should have a part two, or if you have any other feedback. Love you all!

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #bucky barnes smut #avengers fanfiction #avengers imagine #bucky barnes imagine

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avengersnewb · 4 years

Text

Quarantined Together - Completed!

Thank you to everyone who followed along with the quarantine fic that I wrote based on a prompt from my beloved @sabrecmc , happy to tell you that it’s now completed! ( and includes LOTS of virgin Steve content and so much gracious objectification of Steve Rogers :) )

Quarantined Together - 40k, E Fluff and Smut, ID porn, First Times, Quarantine, Virgin Steve, Bottom Steve, Top Tony Steve and Tony hook up on a night out in a bar. They wake up the next morning to the news that they have to self isolate for two weeks. There would be sex. There might also be ... love.

The bar is crowded and dim.

Steve had gone through three beers, including the one from the handsy guy. He had ended up kicking the guy's ass but wastage is wastage and there is no need to throw away a good pint of beer.

The fourth beer comes quite unexpectedly, from a guy Steve had not spotted before. He can usually tell if people are watching him, even if they are not in his line of sight, but he had not seen this guy, not before the bartender puts the beer in front of him. Steve turns to the direction the bartender points to and the guy raises his glass, nods, and wow, smiles.

There is something magical about that smile. It’s beautiful and earnest and it kinda lights up the guy’s face. Sparkles shine in his eyes and butterflies start to fly in Steve's stomach. Things seem to run away, all of a sudden; and he feels like he is 20 again, carefree and shy and damn he is absolutely blushing.

“May I sit down?”

Steve looks up and it feels like someone has knocked the breath out of his lungs. He opens and closes his mouth and tries to say something but no sound seems to come out. He nods, after many attempts at finding words and failing miserably, and the guy sits down on the stool next to him, not even two inches away.

Steve tries to look away. He wants to be polite and not stare, he wants to at least take a sip from the drink the guy bought him but he just can’t. He looks at the guy and his dark fluffy hair and wonders if that third drink has actually got to him because he seems to have a hard time keeping his hands to himself. He suddenly has this urge to touch this man; those eyes, that hair, and the perfect mesmerizing whole-face smile.

“Tony,” he says and he stretches his hand out. Steve manages to grab the hand and shake it, and mumble something which, thank God, sounds very much like his own name. The guy, Tony, brings his other hand forward, holds on to Steve’s hand with both of his own, and smiles again. “Nice to meet you, Steve,” and Steve’s heart starts to race in his chest. They talk about unimportant stuff, from baseball to world peace. Steve does his best to keep up with the unlimited string of words and funniest jokes in human history, but he fails mostly. He constantly catches himself with an open mouth, holding his fifth and sixth beer halfway in the air and nodding like a stupid goofball. It’s not like he can’t talk about basketball or memes; he finished a 300-page book about Gen Z and meme culture, thank you very much. But this guy… is just impossible. Every single word out of his mouth is pure genius, and the scent he spreads as he moves is just intoxicating.

Steve blushes at a dirty joke, giggles and blushes a bit more, embarrassed from giggling and blushing in the first place. Tony smiles at the whole show Steve’s got going on and lays a reassuring hand on Steve’s shoulder. Steve’s body freezes for a second, and he feels numb from the touch before something starts to burn through his left shoulder down to his chest and set his whole body on fire.

Steve has never felt this way before.

He is fascinated by this guy’s eyes and his jokes and the most beautiful laugh he has ever heard, but it’s not just that. There is something about sitting here and blushing shyly that feels right. It feels to have been decided for him by a greater power, somehow, that had brought him to this bar randomly and had made him stick around even after the disastrous approach from that previous douche bag. Not that Steve wants to get spiritual about meeting a sexy man, but he feels like he's been waiting for this for so long, for eternity maybe.And he knows what he needs to do next. He is certain. He is ready.

So he just does it, he leans forward and kisses Tony. (Read on AO3)

#stony #stevetony #Steve rogers #Tony stark #quarantine #quarantined together

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julia-highstorms · 6 years

Text

The Third Park (Damien x OC (Ellie)) - Part 10

Summary: After weeks apart, Damien and Ellie are finally reunited and the investigation begins!

Note: (most) characters belong to Pixelberry Studios. Damien is 100% human in here and it’s a Male!MC (Allen). Ni Ni's and Santiago Cabrera's gifs don't belong to me. Link to previous parts.

Pairing: Damien x OC (Ellie)

Rating: Teen (language)

Tagging: @christopher-powell @boneandfur @kennaxval @writtenbycandy @thequeenchoices @client327 @damiensnazario @never-ending-choices @walkerismychoice @laniquelove @confessionsofabrokegirl @dangerous-capri15 @parkerattano @clarissafics @pilitella @hellomynameisdeviblaire @odetomars @cocomaxley @her-imperial-hangman-s @endlesswoods @suckmydestielobsessedassbutt @bluediamondsapphire @wa-reva If you would like to be tagged, please, tell me!

Word count: 3167

Damien Nazario and Eleanor Zhou spent the next month talking to each other virtually. When they weren’t sending strictly professional emails to each other about the case - more information about Lucy and Robert and new suspicions she had towards them -, they were texting each other - these chats were way more playful and with a lot of teasing, especially from her.

He even wasn’t reacting that bad with Allen’s new married life. In fact, things didn’t change much. His best friend already lived with Hayden before their marriage - same about Nadia and Steve -, so the only big difference was that stupidly shining ring on his left hand. But everything was exactly as it had always been.

…Although Nadia and Allen noticed that Damien seemed more cheerful lately and with his face glued on his phone, and they knew it was because of their beloved little cousin.

Damien had just put his phone away after smiling to a silly text Ellie sent him asking him to save her from this super boring gala at Prescrott Industries. Her co-worker and friend Poppy Patel convinced her to go with her there - she was covering something for Mortif - by using the argument of free drinks and fancy food and the possibility of meeting superheroes Lilith and Talos. Eleanor ended up agreeing - although she loved spending her nights at her home and especially not working -, so now they were at the hottest party of the city. But Ellie was having serious doubts if Poppy really knew them, like she liked to claim, so they made a bet and now she was mingling at this party waiting for them. Ugh, she hated office parties.

“So... you and Ellie connected, huh?” - Allen asked, a small grin tugging on the corner of his mouth. He, Damien and Nadia were on their weekly happy hour. They always hung out on Friday nights for some drinks, while Hayden and Steve did other things. They were married now, but it didn’t mean they were glued to each other; each of them had their own lives.

Damien shrugged, taking a sip of his own beer.

“You could say it.” - the Park cousins giggled.

“Oh, come on, man! I found you both naked in my apartment, remember?” - they all shared a laugh. Damien was mortified with embarrassment when Allen and Hayden came into the apartment and found Eleanor wearing just a shirt as he desperately tried to find his pants and hid his boner. - “I swear, your faces were the funniest thing I’ve ever seen!”

“HA! I didn’t see it but I crack up every time I imagine the scene!” - Nadia laughed so hysterically, that she almost spilled her own drink.

“Shut up, you two.” - Damien said, still laughing softly.

“Anyway, I’m happy for you, my friend. You’re both very dear to me.” - he didn’t notice the sad smile Damien gave him.

Fuck. When he was going to stop being in love with Allen?

“And how is going Ellie’s case?” - Nadia asked.

“I was mostly gathering information about Lucy and that Robert dude. What are their schedules, their relationship history, this kind of thing. Ellie has been very efficient.”

“I swear, that woman works way too much! I always knew that, but god! Even when she doesn’t have to, she’s working! Please, D, when you go meet her again, make sure to not make her work more!”

“Well, this will be a problem, Nadia, since I’m working for her.”

“Exactly, you are working! Not her! Oooh and I know how you could improve your services to her, if you know what I mean...” - Damien chuckled to Nadia’s wiggling eyebrows. She was terrible.

“Oh my God, Nadia, Damien doesn’t do this kind of service!” - Allen laughed out loud. - “At least, I don’t think so.” - Damien rolled his eyes and drank his beer. They were both terrible. - “Oh yeah, this reminded me: when are you going to Northbridge? You have to go there to follow Lucy and her shady boyfriend, right?” - Allen knew his methods too well by now.

“I’m going there as soon as I free myself from the other cases. There’s just one left and I’ll meet with the client this week. So I’ll probably be there next week.”

“Oooooh!” - Nadia and Allen said in unison.

“This is great!” - Nadia squealed. - “Ah, will you tell me when you’re going there? I have to return this book she borrowed me! And D, please, get laid! Your mood has been so good lately because of Ellie and I know it’ll just get better when you’ll be reunited with her! Right, Allen?” - she slapped her cousin’s arm, almost making him spill his beer. She definitely was drunk.

“Oh my God, Nadia, I can’t believe you’re telling Damien this!” - Allen laughed a little too much. He was drunk too.

“Alright, I think you two had enough drinks for today. You’re drunk and need to go home.”

“I’m not home! You go drunk!” - Nadia scowled.

“What she said!” - Allen agreed as Damien took them both out of the pub, chuckling to those two dorks.

In the end, it was decided that Damien would go to Northbridge only by the end of July, seven weeks he and Ellie had met each other. One of the cases was more complex than it seemed, besides, Ellie came with a great idea: the last Saturday of the month was going to fall on Lucy’s birthday, so she would be throwing a party at her house. That was going to be a great opportunity for him to meet both Lucy and Robert at once and watch them. Even though they both were very much likely going to act as normal and happy and healthy as possible, it was worth a shot.

Damien Nazario: Are you sure this plan will work?

Eleanor Zhou: Trust me! ;) Now get your pretty ass here to Northbridge!

So, there he was on his way to Northbridge on the last Saturday of July. The party would be just at night, but he was going there a little earlier so he and Ellie could plan how they were going to investigate both Robert and Lucy at the same time.

After doing his check-in on a simple yet clean enough hotel - he would stay in the city for the weekend - and leaving his bag in his bedroom, Damien followed Eleanor’s directions towards an apartment complex. Every building in Northbridge seemed modern and shining. Silas Prescrott had built half of the town and he seemed to really enjoy Prescrott Industries QG architecture.

As Damien approached Ellie’s apartment on the second floor, he felt his heart beating slightly faster inside his chest. He’d been waiting for that moment the last month and almost couldn’t contain his excitement. Damien Nazario rarely would let his emotions take control over him, but when it was about the Parks… he was numb to them. Especially to Eleanor Zhou.

Eleanor was pacing around the apartment, trying to get herself busy while she waited for Damien’s arrival. He had already texted her saying that he was in Northbridge and going to meet with her.

It’s been seven weeks since her vacation in New York, but it seemed like much more. That past month couldn’t pass fast enough, and Ellie was anxious to meet him again, but in a good way. She was having those butterflies inside her stomach, like she always felt when she was about to see a crush of hers when she was in school. But she was almost 30 now. She wasn’t supposed to feel like that, right? She was an independent woman, she had bought her own house with her own money, she had already made a career for herself at Mortif, she had personally met Silas Prescrott - the most powerful man of Northbridge (only behind the Mayor) -, Lilith and Talos superheroes two weeks ago and took a selfie with them! So why she was so nervous to see Damien again?

Get ahold of yourself, woman!

The bell suddenly rang and Eleanor almost ran towards the door, her heart pounding inside her chest. When she opened it, Damien was grinning at her with that charming and cocky smirk of his, looking even more handsome and hotter than she remembered. God, had Damien Nazario always been that gorgeous?

“Hey, you.” - he greeted her.

“Hey, you.” - she answered, grinning back and letting him in. - “Bienvenido a mi casa.” - he chuckled as he stepped in.

“Gracias, señorita. No sabías que hablas Español.”

“Sólo un poco.” - she winked at him. It was funny how she was so nervous on seeing him again and now that he was finally there, she was feeling so at ease. Damien had a strange but welcome calming effect over her. - “Aaand I better stop speaking in Spanish before I make a fool of myself.” - she chuckled sheepishly.

“You would never make a fool of yourself.”

“Charming, aren’t you?”

“Always.” - he said with that cocky smirk never leaving his face. - “Oh yeah, before I forget, I brought something to Lucy, I hope she’ll like it.” - he showed her the wine he was carrying.

“Oh, I’m sure she will appreciate it. Anyway, make yourself at home.”

He took a quick look around her house as she took the bottle from his hand and put it on her kitchen counter. Ellie lived in a small, yet tidy and comfy one-bedroom apartment. Two big windows took a large part of the living room wall, making the place very bright. There was a fragrance of fresh coffee in the air.

“Nice place you got here.” - he said, turning to look at her again. She was much closer now, just a step from him, her dark eyes on his.

“For fuck’s sake, Nazario, kiss me already.” - Eleanor said impatiently and pulled him in a heated kiss.

Their mouths kissed hungrily remembering the taste of one another as their hands explored each other’s bodies. They stumbled together, until they both fell on her couch, with Ellie giggling beneath him.

“Did you miss me?” - she whispered, kissing his neck, feeling his hard crotch already pulsating on her inner thighs.

“More than I should.” - he said, still breathless because of the warm welcome. She laughed out loud and cupped his face, staring into his brown eyes.

“Yeah, me too.” - Damien held her in his arms, letting a contented sigh out as her mouth met his again.

He was lost in the taste of her lips, the sensation of her smooth skin pressed against his, the smell of her hair... When he suddenly felt something wet against his jaw. Was she... licking him?

Damien opened his eyes, face to face to a pair of eyes. They weren’t Eleanor’s, but more... canine. A yellow Labrador Retriever looked happily at him, its tongue pending on the side of its mouth.

“Freddie!” - the woman half shouted and half laughed, as they sat up. - “I’m sorry about this. I guess Freddie wanted to give you a welcome kiss too.” - she giggled, stroking her dog affectionately.

“That’s fine...” - Damien said, although he didn’t like dogs kisses very much. The dog was so happy to see him that his whole body wiggled with excitement. He noticed that Freddie was bigger than Dipper and even more energetic. How the hell he didn’t notice that dog there before? The apartment was tiny.

“Do you want something to drink? Some water? Coffee? Something stronger?” - she asked, getting out of the sofa, followed by Damien. The moment was completely gone.

“Coffee would be nice.”

“I’ll pour some coffee for us then.” - he had only noticed that a song was playing when she slightly danced towards the kitchen, her hips moving according to the rhythm of the early 80s catchy song. Damien chuckled a little, not surprised that she was listening to that genre. Ellie had told him that Freddie was named after Freddie Mercury. How she could be so sexy and so silly at the same time?

He sat by the dinner table as Ellie extended him a coffee mug.

"So the plan is go to your best friend's, Lucy James, birthday party and watch her and her suspicious boyfriend, Robert Zucko?" - he asked. She nodded at him, sipping her own drink. - “And Lucy won’t find it strange if I show up on her birthday party?”

“No, since you’ll be with me.”

“That means nothing. We have to come up with something more concrete.” - Eleanor rolled her eyes.

“Well, she knows about you. I might have told her that we went out on a couple of dates… so I can say that we started dating! I know Lucy, she’s a hopeless romantic and she’s been bothering me to date someone for a while, so she’ll be thrilled if I go to her party with you.”

“So all I need to do is pretend to be your boyfriend?”

“Exactly. I hope it won’t be too difficult.” - she had that mischievous grin that made him crazy back onto her lips. Damien chuckled.

"I guess I can manage doing it." - he said and leaned in, kissing her lips softly. He missed those damn lips of hers so bad.

"Great." - she whispered back, before pushing him. If he kept on kissing her, she wouldn't be able to focus on what they had to do. Which was investigate her best friend's shady boyfriend. - "So, what do you think about Robert?"

"I still haven't met him, Ellie. I won't make any precocious assumptions." - she rolled her eyes again.

"Even with all the material I sent you?"

"Well, I must admit that his work hours are a bit odd." - they were a mess. Robert Zucko seemed to work whenever he wanted. Sometimes during the whole night, others just a couple of hours in the afternoon. "What does he work in again?"

"Last time I heard, he owned a pub. Zucko's Point. Not very creative." - she drank the rest of her coffee as Damien wrote down the pub's name. - "It was in the southern part of the city."

"Well, guess I just found my favorite pub in Northbridge." - he grinned at her.

"I've never been there. I do the most to avoid another encounter with him. But I'll go with you there if necessary."

"Your presence would be much appreciated." - they shared a smirk and Ellie stood up.

"Well, I better start getting dressed for the party. Please, make yourself comfortable." - she said as she walked towards her bathroom.

Damien almost proposed to shower with her, but it was not the time for that. They had work to do first.

So he paced around the living room, sipping on his coffee, with Freddie following his steps, sniffing his clothes. He awkwardly patted the dog in the head and approached one of the shelves. Eleanor still owned a lot of CDs, even though with all that streaming music service. She had all the genres possible, since classic music to punk rock. Most of the books in the shelf were about design and novels. Her favorite genres were chick flicks romance and crime & mystery.

There were more CDs on the TV rack, next to the stereo. Damien recognised the late 80s indie song that was playing now, as the singer sang "There she goes… there she goes again". There was a single framed picture next to the TV. He took a closer look of it and saw a teenage Ellie grinning widely, with an older Asian couple on her high school graduation day. The woman was short and chubbier, with delicate features on her smiley face and the man was tall and had an athletic body and a bright smile. Eleanor was the perfect mix of both of them. Damien caught himself smiling to the frame.

“Done, I'm ready.” - Ellie returned from her bedroom, wearing a party dress. - "Oh, found something that you like?" - she approached him and he showed her the picture.

"Your parents looked very proud of you here."

And then he saw Eleanor Zhou most beautiful smile as she gently took the picture from his hands.

“Can you believe that my dad actually told me that I didn't do more than my obligation?"

"Ouch." - she giggled.

"Yeah. He could be harsh sometimes, especially when it was about my education, but I know he loves me and just wishes the best to me. He’s the funniest guy I know, although he loves telling jokes that no one finds funny when he’s drunk. And he has the loudest laugh possible." - Damien smiled to her story. She pointed to the woman. - "My mom had the brightest smile and when she was mad at me or Dad, it was the most terrifying thing. When I was little and did something that would make her angry, I sometimes cried even before she actually lectured me. But she was the fairest and wisest woman I knew. Her laugh was contagious and she had the best hug ever. She was my role model, my superhero.” - the corners of Ellie’s mouth turned up.

"And how did they meet?"

"They both studied at Hartfeld. So I did too." - she shrugged. - "They married right after they graduated from college and moved to my hometown, Cedar Cove, in Washington. My mom was born and raised in New York, but she enjoyed the small town vibes more. Me, on the other hand, had always been attracted to the big city lights and buzz." - she put the picture back to its place in the TV rack and turned to him. - "What about you? Are you close to your family?"

"Well, close as I can be with me living here and them living in Puerto Rico. But I go visit them every year, and I have an uncle who lives in NYC. And my sisters are always bossing me to send 'American things' to them and to my nephews and nieces." - Eleanor chuckled.

"I wish I had younger siblings to boss around too. But as the younger Park cousin, you can imagine what Nadia and Allen did to me when we were kids." - they shared a half-hearted laugh. - "And my paternal cousin, Aiden, is much younger than me, so we're not that close. He had just graduated high school, so I didn't have the chance to boss him around. But it's good that you're still in touch with your family." - she kept staring the photo with a sad smile on her face. - “I still miss her everyday of my life. I wish I could pick up the phone and simply call her whenever I feel lost or a little insecure. She always knew what to tell me. Although I love my dad, there's some things that he just can't get, you know?” - he nodded.

"I know they both still are very proud of you." - he said, gently intertwining his fingers with hers, in a reassuring and comforting way. Ellie turned to him and smiled gratefully.

"Well, enough with reminiscences about the past, we have a party to go and a dude to unmask!"

#the third park #damien nazario #damien x mc #perfect match #playchoices #perfect match au #perfect match fanfic #choices fanfic #choices fanfiction #playchoices fanfic #playchoices fanfiction

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sserpente · 6 years

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A/N: I believe I once read that in the Marvel Universe, LokI’s birthday is set on the 17th of December. So let’s just say it’s today, alright? I got inspired, so here’s a birthday themed Imagine. I loved writing it so much! Happy Birthday, God of Mischief. ♥

Words: 3316 Warnings: none (well maybe fluff)

“So basically what the phone does is scan your face and add a ‘filter’.” Thor with bunny ears was by far the funniest thing you had seen in a long while when you hit the camera symbol and took a picture. Snapchat really was a great invention for people who regularly fought alien threats from outer space. It made pretending to be a silly girl with silly dreams a lot easier.

“It looks sweet.” The God of Thunder declared, grinning wildly as he did. You nodded, saving the picture. This would go in your secret photo album you kept, to store funny and priceless memories with the infamous Avengers.

“I am dreading to ask but what are you doing?” Your heart skipped a beat when you suddenly heard Loki approaching you from behind, tilting his head when you turned to face him. You probably imagined it but he looked more handsome than he had yesterday. Did he do that on purpose?

Raven hair, enchanting blue eyes… you wanted to rip those clothes off his body and lick every inch of him until he moaned and… clearing your throat, you tore your gaze away from his captivating glance and instead focused on his neck. His neck which you wanted to bite and kiss and… oh stop!

Living with the Avengers was exhausting and dangerous enough. Your undying crush on Loki made it even more complicated. He was charming, way too charming for his own good. His silver tongue had, on many occasions, lured you into thinking naughty, naughty things and his good looks and dominant demeanour had not only once had you masturbating in your room, screaming his name when coming undone.

“Taking pictures!” You finally managed to choke out when Thor left with a court nod, attempting to scare the dirty thought away. “Come here, I’ll show you.”

Giggling to yourself, you chose a dog filter and held up your phone until you could see both the God of Mischief and yourself on the screen. Two dog ears and a nose instantly latched onto your faces, making you giggle childishly once more.

“Stick your tongue out, you’ll have a dog tongue.” You offered, changing the angle so you would both fit on the screen properly.

Loki shot you an annoyed look. “I will not stick my tongue out.” He stated.

Why not? I would love to see that tongue of yours. “Come on, it’ll be funny!”

“No.”

“Oh, fine.” Quickly, you snapped a picture, grinning at how a still of Loki with dog ears and a dog nose appeared on your phone.

“Delete that.”

“Definitely not,” you teased playfully. “I’ll keep that. Maybe I’ll print it and hang it over my bed.”

“Delete it.”

You could practically feel the burning hot danger radiating off him, his dark glare sending pleasant shivers up and down your spine. It was just a picture. He wouldn’t actually harm you, you were very well aware of that. So, you decided to take it a little further.

“No!” Bolting the room with your phone, you rushed through the living room into the hallways, looking back for only a second to check if he was following you—and he was. He wasn’t even running. Going after you with determined and powerful steps, his blue gaze never left your form. The sparkling in them intrigued you—he wasn’t actually mad at you but he would get his way.

Turning right, you almost tripped over your own feet when suddenly, he appeared right before you. A green shimmering light surrounded him for a second, making you bite your lower lip. Oh, you wouldn’t fall for that.

So you didn’t stop—until you crashed right into him, knocking you both over. It was like colliding with a brick wall. Pain cursed through the side of your face and your hips as you sat up, still lying on top of him.

“Ouch… god, what are you made of, solid rock?” You complained.

Loki gave you a taunting look. You could tell he was hiding a mocking smirk. “Next time you run from someone, try not to run straight into them.” He explained.

“There was a fifty-fifty chance you were an illusion, give me credit for that!”

He didn’t hide his amused chuckle this time, the sound tingling right between your legs and your belly. Damn him. Clearing your throat, you rolled off him and got back on your feet, just in time before Natasha entered the hallway and raised an eyebrow at the two of you.

You quickly bolted before she could get Loki in trouble or alternatively, before you could get yourself in trouble by saying something stupid like ‘please fuck me here and now on the ground’.

You lay awake that night, spending hours looking at the picture you had taken again and again. He was so much more than he let on. The way he had stared you down when you had rested on top of him, your faces only mere inches from one another… you had felt his breath against your lips and if he hadn’t spoken up, you would have kissed him.

Swallowing thickly, you bit your lower lip. He’d been somewhat… carefree today. So unlike he usually behaved around the Avengers, despite his warning to delete that damn dog picture. You sighed as you glanced at it once more.

You had set it as your lock screen, cheering you up instantly whenever you looked at it. You would give everything to see him like that more often.

“Hey FRIDAY,” you started quietly, an idea striking you like one of Thor’s lightning bolts. “When is Loki’s birthday?”

“According to Mr. Stark’s database it is on December the 17th.” The computer voice replied equally quiet.

17th of December… “That’s tomorrow! Where does Tony have that information from?”

“Research resources tell me Thor Odinson provided it.”

“Alright… thanks, FRIDAY.”

Tomorrow! He hadn’t mentioned with a word it was his birthday tomorrow and neither had Thor or any of the other Avengers. Granted, they didn’t exactly like Loki after what he had done in New York. Hell, Tony suffered from PTSD thanks to him and apart from Thor, they all held an undying grudge against him.

You hoped, sincerely, that Loki knew you didn’t hate him. You’d made an effort to show him, after all. And perhaps tonight, you should take it a step further. Smiling to yourself, you crawled out of bed and got to work.

The next morning was unspectacular. Steve was up early to go out for a run, Tony and Natasha were drowning in their coffee and Thor was in an awfully good mood. No one had yet found what you had hidden in the fridge and hopefully, no one would. They were all busy preparing for a trip.

Overnight, it had snowed again. Bright white covered the vast landscape outside, creating a magical and Christmassy atmosphere.

Taking a sip of your own coffee, you shrugged your shoulders, watching how your crush finally entered the kitchen. He barely made an effort to greet the people in the room, only nodding into your and Thor’s direction.

The Thunderer grinned. “Good morning, Loki.”

You already opened your mouth to congratulate him when he went on cheerfully. “It’s a very special day, brother!” He said, patting his shoulder so hard he flinched.

“Is it?” Loki smirked, holding back his anticipation.

“Yes! Tony will finally take us to go snowboarding and skiing! You know, those long boards you tie to your feet and then slide down the hill in the snow!”

His smirk faded in time with your heart skipping a beat. Thor didn’t remember. Thor had forgotten. His own brother… swallowing thickly, you buried your nose in your coffee. Tears burned in your eyes, the pain Loki must feel clawing at your own heart like an angry wildcat.

“Well, have fun, brother.”

“You’re not coming with us?”

“I’d rather spend my time reading than tying two pieces of wood to my feet.” He said, rolling his eyes in the process.

But this was perfect. If the Avengers left to spend a day in the snow, Loki and you would get to be alone. You could spend his birthday with him…

“Leave him. I’ll enjoy this day more without him,” Tony tossed in sternly. “No funny business, reindeer games.”

The God of Mischief only rolled his eyes in response.

“What about you, (Y/N), are you going to come?” Thor continued. Shrugging, you shook your head.

“No… too cold. Besides, I have to get another paper done for university, so…” You lied.

“You’ll miss out.”

You shrugged once more. “It’s alright.”

“Okay then… let’s get going.”

Loki watched them through the window of his room, his soft hands clasped behind his back. An actual sad expression was plastered on his flawless face as he watched the Thunderer climb into the car, leaving him behind. He hadn’t expected any of the Avengers to congratulate him. If anything, he would have ridiculed them for it but Thor… somehow, against all reason and much to his dismay, he had wanted his brother to remember.

Back in Asgard, birthdays didn’t hold a high value, much more important was Yule or All Hallows Eve but still, it was tradition to honour the person concerned.

It broke your heart seeing him standing there so lonely, wishing desperately to read his mind and find out what was going through his head. He had looked so disappointed back in the kitchen…

Knocking softly, you caused him to spin around to face you. He frowned when he spotted the round chocolate cake in your hands, watching you set it on his drawer carefully. Ten green and yellow candles were burning on them, given you didn’t know his exact age.

You cleared your throat nervously. “I mean, I don’t know about Asgard but here on Earth we eat cake and blow out candles when it’s our birthday.” You explained timidly, gifting him a shy smile.

Loki’s voice was barely a whisper when he replied, not quite believing what you were saying. “What?”

“I asked FRIDAY about your birthday. I’m so sorry, Loki. Thor should have remembered. But… I mean, if you want, I can spend the day with you. Do typical birthday stuff together. For now, blow out the candles. Oh, and don’t forget to make a wish first!”

The God of Mischief approached you, still suspicious and unbelieving. “You baked a cake… for me?”

In fact you had spent all night creating this chocolate monster. You had barely slept, which was why you couldn’t stop drinking coffee now.

“I did. Come on, blow out the candles.”

Loki smirked, your heart skipping another beat. He was going to be the death of you and yet, you couldn’t be happier you had cheered him up—at least a little bit.

Nodding, he did as he was told before he pursed his lips to blow out the candles. Grey smoke ascended into the air, fading slowly and spreading an alluring scent in his room.

“And now what?”

“Now we eat it and open a bottle of champagne. Tony keeps tons of these in his bar, I’ll just steal one, he won’t miss it.”

Picking up the cake again, you felt bold enough to grab his hand and tear him with you back into the kitchen. Quickly, you reached for a knife and handed it to him, causing him to frown once more.

“You have to cut it.”

“Alright,” His smirk grew when he took the piece of metal from your hands, your fingers brushing against each other in the process. Alarmed, you sucked in a deep breath, focusing on how he cut the first piece.

“Wait, not that big! The cake is all yours, you can eat as much as you like, really but I wouldn’t even eat half of that.”

You giggled when you took the knife from his hand and cut two smaller slices, putting them on some plates you had prepared along with two champagne glasses. Tony always bought the best stuff, so when you cracked open the bottle, the scent of expensive liquor already filled your nostrils.

You hardly ever drank, only on certain occasions and you figured—if there was one, it was today.

“Here’s to you!” You shouted, winking as you filled the two glasses and handed one of them to Loki. He kept mustering your every movement so intensely you feared to faint, increasing your desire to turn into that champagne glass he touched with his lips. Was he still suspicious? Or just surprised you made such a fuss about his birthday?

Well, for now, you wouldn’t bother and enjoy the time you could spend with him. You desperately wanted Loki to know you liked him—even a lot more than you probably should but you could hardly tell him that to his face, not like that.

No. You settled for the more complicated way. He was a smart man. Surely he would find out, eventually.

“It’s really good.” Loki complimented you when you started eating the cake in silence, fork after fork of the brown mixture disappearing in your mouths.

“Thanks,” you giggled. “I was half asleep when I made it, so I guess it’s alright. So, what do you want to do today? I know I’m technically not allowed to let you out of the mansion but if you wanted to…. I guess, I could… I mean…”

Had he ever smiled this often in one day? You doubted it. Loki’s blue gaze softened when it met yours. He crossed his arms after he finished the cake, his scrutinising glance never leaving your face.

You swallowed thickly.

“Thank you.” He replied. “But I’d rather stay inside. I am not particularly fond of snow.”

Given he was a Frost Giant, that statement was rather absurd and pretty ironic but who were you to judge? You didn’t like snow either. It was wet, it was cold, it slowed down the traffic and when you needed it the most—namely on Christmas, it melted.

“Okay. We could watch a movie. You know, those visual stories Tony told you and Thor about?”

“Which one?”

“It’s your birthday, you pick. Oh, I almost forgot.”

You had pondered over what present to get him for hours. Even when you had finished the cake, the mind-blowing idea still hadn’t come to you… and you had run out of time but then, after lying down again and eyeing the book on your nightstand, you came to a conclusion.

You remembered Loki and you having a conversation about Shakespeare and how he admired literature from all of the nine realms. There was one thing you owned that was special, one thing you knew he would appreciate as much as you did—besides, what else would you have bought him? He was a god, he could just take whatever he wanted.

Grinning, you reached under the table where you had hidden the small package and handed it to him. Loki frowned once more, even if you knew through Thor that presents were in fact an Asgardian birthday tradition as well.

“Happy Birthday!”

Still hesitating, Loki took the package from your hands and carefully ripped the wrapping. You had chosen green paper with golden gift ribbon you had already bought for Christmas. You loved his colours. In fact, your underwear was green. You secretly enjoyed wearing it along with golden jewellery, wishing Loki could see you in it. Wishing, he would want to see you in it. Wishing how he would slowly tear it off your body to expose your… stop.

The sound of ripping paper brought you back to reality, scaring the naughty thoughts away. Loki revealed an old book, the brown leather battered, the pages yellowed and the title hardly readable. The Complete Works of William Shakespeare.

“It’s my personal copy. It must be hundreds of years old.”

“Where did you get it from?”

“Actually, I bought it on the flea market. Paid less than twenty dollars for it. A librarian then told me it’s worth several hundreds, so I guess I got lucky. You should have it. My favourite pieces are ‘Hamlet’ and ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’.”

Loki’s blue eyes locked with yours, sincerity and cordiality glistening in them. “Thank you.”

And then, just like that, silence filled the room, with both of you simply staring into each other’s eyes without saying a word. It wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward, merely… intimidating. Your feelings intimidated you.

Clearing your throat, you got up to clean up the plates. “Should we watch that movie now? Maybe we should see ‘Harry Potter’, it’s about a boy who discovers he’s a wizard and then goes to a magical school where he has to fight the most evil wizard of all times.”

Loki chuckled. “Now that sounds a little dramatic.”

“They’re great movies though.”

“Plural?”

“Yes. There’s eight. Seven books and eight movies. Don’t worry, we don’t have to watch them all at once.” You appeased him, winking at him once more.

What could you say? Loki was in love with the plot line. He kept asking you questions, making assumptions about who was behind the troll and the attack on the Quidditch pitch. He figured out quite quickly that Snape wasn’t at all the villain and when the movie was over, he urged you on to start the second.

You had nuzzled into him at some point. Uncontrollably, really! It had gotten rather cold on the couch and when you had wrapped yourself in a blanket like a burrito, Loki had… he had offered you to lean against him. An especially inviting suggestion, especially since he was wearing… casual clothes. He had traded his Asgardian garments for comfortable sweatpants, a white shirt and a grey jacket made of the softest fabric you could imagine. It must have cost a fortune—and quite frankly, you were quite surprised Tony had spent this much money on him, even more so that Loki actually voluntarily wore them. He looked absolutely ravishing in them.

For two hours now, your heart had been beating like a steam hammer, every cell of your body drawn to him like a thin needle by a magnet. You wanted to do so much more than just cuddle him. Heavens, you wanted to kiss him until he ran out of breath. But that would probably confuse and disturb him. And you.

“Loki?” You whispered when the credits of the second movie started. The darkening screen made you only too aware of the growing darkness spreading in the living room. It was turning night outside and you were getting sleepier with every second that passed. Baking a cake in the middle of the night had taken its toll on you but it had been worth it—it had been so worth it.

“Hm?” His soft voice echoed through the room like soft butterfly wings. You suppressed a sigh.

“How old are you actually? I mean, how old did you turn today?”

“In human years?”

“No, in cat years.” You giggled. “Of course in human years.”

“Let me see… 1049. I turned 1049.” Good thing you liked elder men.

Wow. “That’s… very old. I’m only (Y/A).”

Loki smiled mischievously. “Well, you are mortal.”

“Yeah…” It was the last thing you muttered before you fell asleep, one of your arms tightly wrapped around his body. You barely noticed how he lifted you up, carrying you into your bedroom like a cherished bride.

“Thank you, (Y/N).” He murmured gently, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead. Hope flooded his veins when he closed the door behind him, the smile creeping up on his lips for once honest and truly happy. Maybe he was not so bad after all. Maybe at least one other being in this godforsaken manor liked him. Perhaps even more than they should.

#loki #loki imagine #loki x you #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x reader #tom hiddleston #marvel #marvel imagine #thor #thor imagine #the avengers #the avengers imagine #thor ragnarok #thor ragnarok imagine

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kyloren · 6 years

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Mileven post-S2 fanfiction recommendation list: PART II

This is a follow-up part II to the first Mileven recommendation list I made. I actually haven’t finished going through the entire Mileven tag on ao3, but as soon as I power through another good chunk of it, I’ll probably do another part of the rec list. If your fanfic isn’t featured, apologies. Message me and we’ll amend that grievance in the next rec list instalment.

* marks the ongoing stories.

canon:

even outdoor rpgs in the sun have rules!* by christah88: ““It’s summer!” Dustin called over his shoulder, converting a deep lunge to a leapfrog. “The sun is shining, it’s hot but not too hot, we’re with all our friends, we don’t have to go to school, we’re young and we’re free!” He stood up and threw out his arms. “Why aren’t you guys running around screaming?!” They looked at each other. “He actually — you know, I think he actually has a point,” Will said, a bit shellshocked.” [This is the funniest fic I have ever read. Ever. Read it.]

devil’s in the backseat by ceruleanstorm: “Mike Wheeler is not a bad boy, but when he comes to school in a leather jacket, it’s the only thing anyone can talk about. Eleven knows something is up — if only he would stop avoiding her long enough for her to ask. Max, Dustin, and Lucas may have a gambling problem, and Will’s caught in the middle of it all, stuck keeping everyone’s secrets.”

promises to keep* by AriaCessair: “Unconsciously, the promises make their way into their lives. In the end, it is what keeps them together.”

watching through windows, you’re wondering if i’m okay by elsaclack: “The aftermath of the group’s collective brush with the Mind Flayer and his army.”

and i feel life for the very first time by quinnking: ““I wanted her to have something special,” he says, his voice rumbling. “To welcome ‘85 in with… people.” “With people,” Joyce repeats with a chuckle. “You mean with people who love her?””

paladin vs witch by Someone_else_before: “El loves Mike. Mike loves El. Kali has… concerns. On a visit to Hawkins, El’s big sister starts feeling protective and comes up with a few simple tests to make sure Mike is as good a guy as everyone says he is. The tests aren’t exactly ethical, but since when has that ever stopped Kali before?”

let your heart be light by evenhisfacewasanalias: “Takes place after the Snow Ball, with Mike introducing El to a few holiday traditions.”

smart things by Strange_Archivist: “Nancy reflects on love, the importance of female friends, and staying true to oneself.”

babysitters club by SmoothFluffle: “Mike and El (and Holly) as babysitters.”

but we could be safer for just one day* by dragonyfox: “See, the thing is, they figured they were done. Done with monsters, done with baseball bats embedded with nails, done with lighting things that are trying to kill them on fire, done with worrying about their people. Things go back to normal.”

like a distant star* by Someone_else_before: “Now that Mike knows El is alive, he’s not going to let even the scariest police chief in the world get in the way of seeing her again.”

i am small, and needy by kittenCorrosion: “As El adjusts to life in Hawkins, she dreads the impending trial known as “school”. Mike knows just what to do, as usual, and comforts her.”

stringe il cuore della stella morente by shipwrecks: “Months go by. Years go by. Everybody else remembers her only as a hero, there when they needed her. He shakes the core of a dying star.”

i’m not gonna teach your boyfriend how to dance with you by topangamatthews: “Mike Wheeler is not El’s boyfriend. So why is he so jealous of the boy who’s trying to be? (In which Mike Wheeler is an idiot and waits too long.)”

+ its sequel: and suddenly you’re mine* by topangamatthews: “There is nothing stranger than dating in high school. (A collection of one-shots of Mike and Eleven through their high school years, hand in hand.)”

july, july* by IrisVioletta: “Eleven adjusts to her new life, in her new family (now a life-spanning collection of oneshots.)”

senior year by serendipitous_rambles: “Senior Year is almost at an end which means College is right around the corner. El is still unsure and confused about what she wants to do when she graduates and it feels like everyone else is moving on with their lives. But when Mike gets some news, it could mean heartbreak.”

fake it ‘til you make it by TheMikeWheelers (jasongracefully): “Mike and El figured they would just mess with their friends a bit, they could get back at them for all the years of teasing. But fake dating never works out so easily.”

l-o-v-e in hawkins by JoMo3: “A 5-part Mileven/Jancy Valentine fic.”

alternative universe:

speechless* by BimeyMooMimey: “A new girl comes to Hawkins, and the entire town takes notice. Little does Mike Wheeler know that she’s about to turn his life upside-down...without even saying a word.”

survive the tide* by richiewheeler (jormaperalta): “After being rescued from a foster home run by a horrible man, “Eleven” is adopted by Chief Jim Hopper and tries to make Hawkins her home. But the schoolchildren are mean and she’s having a tough time fitting in, plus she needs a job for the summer. Then, she gets an opportunity to babysit Holly Wheeler, and finds her life entwined in AV Club President Mike Wheeler’s life as he navigates his last summer before he graduates from Hawkins High. As they start a summer romance, Eleven’s past starts to catch up with her as Mike’s future slams into his present. Can they survive the summer? Can their relationship?” No Supernatural AU.

everybody talks* by hannahberrie: “What was he supposed to say? ‘Hey, so, I saw you looking kinda lonely over here, and I thought I’d come sit by you, for no apparent reason. Yeah, I know, it’s weird. Yeah, I’m kinda a total wasteoid.’” an 80’s High School AU featuring punk!Eleven and nerd!Mike.

don’t stop believin’ by hoars: “In a world inspired by Dungeons and Dragons, the party comes to terms with their classes.” Magical Realism AU.

wrong house by richiewheeler (jormaperalta): “The Party has a plan to egg Troy’s house on Halloween, but they accidentally get Chief Hopper’s instead.” No Supernatural AU.

years that have gone, and years that will come by rileyhart: “Mike Wheeler has been able to feel his soulmate for as long as he can remember, and he’s been attempting to find her ever since. And he’s finally about to find her, after all those years of searching.” Soulmate AU where you are born with ability to feel the other’s emotions and pain.

miles from nowhere* by kittenCorrosion: “Mike Wheeler and his friends really just want their band to catch a break so they can hit it big. But the week long road trip to a battle of the bands in the middle of nowhere gets complicated when his sister’s rival band shows up, one of his band mates gets tangled in a dark force, and the girl he starts falling for along the way turns out to have a dangerous secret.” Band AU.

unpack your heart by mysterytwin: “They say home is where your heart is, and sometimes it takes a while to find exactly where that is.” Soulmate AU.

+ its prequel: beneath the stars came falling on our heads by mysterytwin: “Mike tries to figure out the beginning, the middle, and the end of his story with Eleven. Mike tries to figure out the beginning, the middle, and the end of his story with Eleven.” Soulmate AU.

ineffable* by princesspret: “An alternative universe where Mike Wheeler meets Eleven, “Jane Hopper,” in 1989. Unfortunately, he’s a little irritable, irrational, and rebellious but she loves him all the same.” bad-boy!Mike AU no-one asked for, but secretly kinda wished for.

the place i call home* by notreserenade: “If one was to ask Mike Wheeler’s parents whether their son had a girlfriend, they’d scoff. Awkward, lanky Mike speaking to a girl? That’s ridiculous. But little did they know, though, that their son was very much in love with a girl. A girl of very few words. A girl with very curly hair. A girl… whose heart was as fragile as the raw emotion one gets during a sunset. A girl that — to Mike, was like no-one he had ever met.” No Supernatural AU.

crossover:

lionhearted (we’ll make this right)* by bottlefullofarsenic: “Normalcy should be easy to obtain. After all, they closed the gate, they defeated the monster, right? Life should go back to normal. If only it was that simple.” Stranger Things x It (2017) Crossover.

curiosity door* by bananannabeth: “The Ghost Riders’ dimension isn’t the only one with portals into Beacon Hills.” Stranger Things x Teen Wolf Crossover.

kingdom come deliverance by TheFlirtMeister: ““You musn’t—” Mike kneels down in front of her, Endleofan cheeping in his ear, nibbling on the lobe. “You can’t touch other people’s dæmons.” “Dæmons?” The girl repeats. “Oh brother.” Lucas says. “You don’t know what a dæmon is?”” Stranger Things x Dæmon Fusion.

the upside down games* by peraltiagoisland: “Mike Wheeler lives in the Victor’s Village, thanks to his sister Nancy who won the games when she was 14 years old, allowing the Wheelers to live in the lap of luxury — or as luxurious as living in District 12 can get. Sadly, having a sister as a victor doesn’t protect Mike from the reaping. It also doesn’t protect him from getting picked to represent District 12 in the 83rd Hunger Games. Oh, and the thing about the arena that year? It becomes another dimension at night. It becomes the Upside Down.” Stranger Things x Hunger Games Fusion.

+ bonus: wherein Steve Harrington is a good Team Mom™:

that’s what friends are for by jibberjabber599: “It’s this action that seems to make his presence a welcome one when Dustin drags him around, even though he’d like to remind the little rugrats that he’s the one who got them out of that hole and saved their lives. Steve doesn’t really have a reference point when it comes to being a big brother—he’s an only child, never really willingly hung out with anyone younger than him—but he’s pretty sure it must feel a little something like this.”

crazy or impressive* by WitchWithWifi: “Steve all but adopts five middle schoolers, their weird telekinetic friend, and all the crazy shit they come with.”

the ache for home lives in all of us (a safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned) by Dontfloatthe100: “The six times Steve Harrington was a mom to the kids, and the one time he didn’t have to be.”

steve harrington’s guide to parenting* by untuneduke: “The adventures of Steve and his 6 adopted children (and the rest of their family).”

this is home* by PatchworkMedley: “The Party realise that maybe Steve is worth more than just driving a car and welding a nail driven bat. And Steve realises that when five pairs of eyes are giving you that puppy look, you don’t stand a chance. Now if only he had those looks when dealing with Hopper…”

guys, you know I’m gonna be pumping out these mileven fic recs until I feel like I’ve read every single fic in the ao3 tag, right? oh, god, what I have committed myself to? stay tuned for the next instalment.

UPDATE: part III is out.

#mileven #mileven fanfiction #mileven fanfiction recommendation list #mileven fanfiction recommendation #character: mike wheeler #character: eleven #pairing: mike x eleven #tv: stranger things #fanfiction recommendations #in this tag resides fanfiction #♔: victrix #*

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marvelous-heroimagines · 7 years

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Touch: Part 3

Requested by: @nathalieruaudel (Here are the specifics)

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Word Count: 1.6K Warnings: Fluff, swearing, vomiting, pregnancy

A/N: This part picks up right where part 2 left off

Part 1, Part 2

“Wait,” you stop dead in your tracks, pulling Bucky to a stop too, “I’ve got an idea,”

Bucky can hardly keep his laughter at bay, and you have to keep shushing him, as the two of you walk into the gym. Most of the team is training; Steve and Sam are sparring, Clint and Nat are training weapons, and Wanda and Tony are working on her powers.

“Y/N!” Wanda squeals, her attention wavering from keeping Tony suspended in the air. He almost hits the ground, but she catches him at the last second with an embarrassed apology.

The team stop training and all make their way to crowd around you. It takes everything in you to not verbalise the first thing you think when you see them all for the first time. Luckily, you were sporting your old sunglasses, so they can’t see that you’re staring directly at them.

As with Bucky, you aren’t entirely sure who is who until they start speaking. Everyone is asking how you are and if you’re okay, but you hardly hear them. Your brain is working overtime as you put voices to faces. The physical mapping you’d done before getting your sight did no one justice. Nat’s bone structure was a lot more striking than you’d felt, Tony’s facial hair somehow suited him more than you’d imagined, Clint was softer looking than his features led you to believe, Steve’s eyes were more endearing than you could have imagined. You can’t stop staring at each of them, having to almost reintroduce your brain with who they were.

Sam was the one that surprised you the most. He was a lot more attractive that you’d thought; although today had proven that your mapping was subpar when it came to the Avengers.

“Damn, you look fine,” you blurt out, staring right at Sam. Everyone in the room falls silent and you can feel Bucky shift uncomfortably next to you. Everyone watches with bated breath as you remove your glasses, revealing that you had your sight. Everyone was shocked, but Sam’s expression was the funniest.

He’d been completely caught off guard, and his cheeks started to burn with blush the longer the silence lasted. You can’t stop the laughter that bursts from you; the longer you stared at him, the funnier his expression got.

The team all follow your laughs, everyone realising the trick you’d tried to play. You glance over at Bucky, who is staring at you with confusion. You give him a playful nudge - letting him know you’d been joking - and he finally relaxes enough to laugh along with everyone else.

The next two weeks consisted of you relearning everything you’d known before. Even though you now had your eyesight, you still held on to old habits - like holding a finger inside your cup of coffee so that you were able to feel when the hot water got high enough. Your old habits were things that you’d learnt and done for decades, so you knew breaking them wouldn’t be an easy task.

Everyone was still getting used to you be able to see them, and were sometimes forgot that you weren’t blind anymore. It just made you laugh when they looked shocked when you were able to comment on their outfit or a picture.

Bucky had been the most excited about your new sight. Every day he insisted on taking you out to the places he’d once had to describe to you. No matter how many beautiful views he showed you, they were nothing compared to him. Your boyfriend was gorgeous, there was no denying that.

The hardest thing to get used to was regular books. You were still learning how to read with your eyes and not your hands. It often got frustrating when you couldn’t recognise a word. So, for now you were sticking to continuing to read in braille.

You’re just getting to a cliff hanger, at the end of your chapter when a wave of nausea hits you. You forward, leaning away from the bedhead, and drop your book to clutch your stomach. Another wave hits you, and you have to bolt to your ensuite. You make it just in time.

Your brow furrows as you clean your teeth after vomiting. You can’t think of anything you’d eaten recently that would have made you sick. Then it hits you. In the mirror, you watch the blood drain from your face as your brain works overtime to figure out how many days late you were.

18. Your period was 18 days late. You hadn’t been too worried when it was 1 or 2 days late - suspecting it was because of the stress of being captured by Hydra. The absence of your period had completely slipped your mind after everything that had happened in the last 2 weeks.

If your conclusion was right, you’d been pregnant when Hydra got their hands on. Just that thought makes your stomach drop through the floor. You practically sprint out of your room and through the halls.

“Bruce!” you frantically yell, bursting into his lab. He spins around, shocked, “Oh thank god,” you breathe out,

“Y/N,” he hurries over to you, worry written on his face, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Your hands shake a little and you have to take a deep breath to calm your nerves, “I need you to do an ultrasound,”

Bruce’s eyebrows shoot up, and he drops his pen, “What?”

“I think I’m pregnant,” you tell him. You don’t even wait for his invitation; just helping yourself to a padded medical slab across the room, “If I’m right - and god, let’s hope not - I was when Hydra was doing shit to me,”

Bruce stares at you for a few moments, a horrified expression crossing his face at the possibility of what the evil Nazi organisation could have done to you. But he snaps back to reality, and hurries around his lab, grabbing what he needed to do the scan.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., please notify Sergeant Barnes that-”

“No!” you cut Bruce off, making his stare at you with confusion, “F.R.I.D.A.Y., don’t tell anyone anything,”

“Dr. Banner?” the A.I. asks, needing confirmation to follow your order after you’d cut him off.

Bruce stares at you, looking torn, “Please,” you plead, “He can’t know until we’re sure that Hydra didn’t do anything to me... Or it,”

Bruce nods, “Don’t tell anyone, F.R.I.D.A.Y.,”

“Certainly,” the A.I.’s monotone voice replies.

Bruce sets up the ultrasound equipment as you stare at the ceiling; dreaded thoughts racing through your mind, “This is going to be cold,” Bruce says, pulling you out of your head.

He wasn’t kidding, the gel felt ice cold the moment it hits your skin, but you don’t move a muscle. You didn’t realise you were holding your breath until your brain yells at you to let carbon dioxide out of your lungs. You didn’t want to move around too much, thinking that your movement would somehow skew the ultrasound image or results.

Silence falls over the lab as Bruce moves the transducer probe across your stomach. Your heart wrenches as a soft thumping sounds from the display next to your head; a heartbeat.

“Well,” Bruce speaks in a low voice, “You were right about being pregnant,”

Your breathing hitches in your throat at his confirmation, “What’s wrong with it?”

Bruce shakes his head and continues to move the probe around, looking for anything that looked out of the ordinary, “I can’t see anything... Your baby looks healthy,”

“So there’s no chance that Hydra did anything to it?” you ask. You didn’t want to get your hopes up,

“I-I’m not that kind of doctor,” Bruce admits, “From what I can see, they didn’t. But I can’t guarantee it,”

You take a long, shaky breath, “Call Helen,”

Bruce nods and wheels his stool over to his nearby desk. He makes a quick phone call, asking Dr. Cho to come to the compound immediately. He gives you a kind look as he hangs up, “She’ll be here within the hour,”

You nod and try not to overthink. Of course you were thrilled to be pregnant with Bucky’s baby; but you couldn’t get excited until you knew Hydra hadn’t touched it.

Dr. Helen Cho rushes into the lab almost 30 minutes later, looking frantic and concerned. Bruce quickly explains to her your situation, and then she repeats the same process that Bruce had.

“Talk to me,” you tell her after 15 minutes of painful silence,

“You’ve got a healthy, normal baby,” she informs you with a grin. Tears well in your eyes and you look at her in disbelief. She gives you a reassuring nod, and before you can speak the lab doors bang open.

Bucky looks freaked out, but the moment his eyes find you - with your shirt pulled up and the transducer probe still in Helen’s hand - his expression softens.

“Why didn’t you tell me,” he asks, making a beeline to you,

“I needed to know Hydra didn’t do anything to it first,” you tell him. He looks between you and Helen, “They didn’t,” you tell him, a little breathless.

Tears well in Bucky’s eyes and a ‘really?’ look on his face, “I’m gonna be a dad?” you nod at him, and you jump when he suddenly lets out a loud whoop.

Bucky plants a soft kiss on your forehead and you finally let yourself accept that you were pregnant with the man you love’s child. Butterflies explode in your stomach as Bucky stares at you, the happiest expression you’d ever seen on his face.

Tags: @meep-meep22, @klutzly, @coffeeismylife28, @leahhavoc, @hantu369mc, @redstarstan, @heismyhunter, @woww-za, @goldenlifevsgutter1996, @addictwithafandomblog, @buckyobsessed, @bearded-bucky, @impala-moose, @stratmoxphere, @rosyfluffyprincess, @invisible2niall, @pleasefixthepain, @caitsymichelle13, @wunnywho, @thedarknesswarrior, @girlwith100names, @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked, @addictionmarvel, @melconnor2007, @bexboo616, @ipaintmelodies, @spn-worm, @specs15, @sebstanwassup, @spookydoritos, @fanboyswhereare-you, @theclonewarss, @psychicwitchphilosopher, @tcmhollnd, @all-that-glitters-is-cold, @xplumsceptrequeenx, @dancingdin, @iamaferitale

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cecilspeaks · 7 years

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Episode 106 - Filings

Why do birds suddenly appear, every time you are near? Tell me more about your special bird powers. Welcome to Night Vale.

It’s been a long couple of weeks, as the city-wide emergency sirens that signal illegal public acknowledgement of angels have been blaring almost nonstop. But in spite of these archaic laws, I’ve been shouting “You’re an angel!” at beings who look like angels and then making my most friendly finger-pointing gesture.

The beings who call themselves angels because… that’s what they are, have begun filing the paperwork for official existence. The angels are still at the Hall of Public Records downtown waiting in line. They have made it to the front of line three different times, but each time, they were told they were missing a key form of ID or pre-application paperwork, or that the cameras could not record their image. They weren’t told his using words, the Records Hall clerk just stabbed their paperwork repeatedly with scissors and then got a massive nosebleed, which is how they know their application was declined.

Other citizens waiting have grown restless. As they do not acknowledge the existence of angels, the next person in line keeps walking up to a seemingly empty window, only to be brushed away by a clerk, or an angel. These citizens have begun shouting and crumbling and curling into little balls and sobbing, as large glowing cracks appear in the ceiling.

It’s been several days of waiting in line for the angels. We’ll check back in on them soon.

Oh, I have a new intern, listeners. He’s a fine-looking young man with a beautiful voice, I think he’ll have a great future in radio. I’ve been trying to ask him his name or who hired him. I certainly don’t remember beginning the search for a new intern, he just appeared this morning and started working without a single word. Which is the most professional behavior for anyone beginning a new job. Well, he seems hard at work, even if every time I address him he doesn’t notice me. It’s great having a competent replacement for Kareem, even if I have no idea how this new intern got here and who he is. As long as the filing is getting done.

Alondra Ortiz, daughter of Josefina Ortiz who passed away last month, has carried on her fight against the angels. The angels are claiming ownership of Old Woman Josie’s estate, since they lives with her and helped her build the many artistic monuments and cultural foundations around town. Alondra said she doesn’t care if angels are acknowledged or not. If they want to be recognized, fine, but Alondra and her lawyer, Emilio Tavarez have filed motions to maintain ownership of Alondra’s mother’s home, belongings, money, and memories. Just because a bunch of imaginary tall people with wings helped Josie change the lightbulbs from time to time, Tavarez said, that’s no reason they are considered next of kin. Tavarez told judge Siobhan Azdaq: “If they don’t exist, we must get kissed.” Judge Azdaq replied: “Emilio, it’s been four years. I’m remarried. We’re done, OK?”

The angels have hired five-headed dragon Miriam Adelman as their counsel, who issued a literally scathing response. Alondra is now suing Adelman and her team for medical bills resulting from second degree burns. Alondra has already put Josie’s home up for sale. She is willing to offer rebates for pre-existing damage, such as a series of large glowing slits in the walls that lead to rooms that aren’t… possible, according to the official floor plan, nor the laws of physics. These rooms range from a 17th century ball room to a crow’s nest on a modern nazy destroyer to the space shuttle. Plus, anachronistic people keep wandering in and out of these portals. She added, “On second thought, since the house has more usable square footage than originally anticipated, and because there appear to be current renters”, she’s raising the sale price.

So I just sent my new intern to go pick up some lunch. Or at least I said, “Excuse me young man whose name I don’t know yet who I only think works here, can you go grab me a cobb salad with extra whipped cream and pencil shavings from the Missing Frog Salad Bar? He didn’t say yes, nor did he ever seem to see or hear me, but he did look really frightened and ran from the room crying, which was such a polite and respectful gesture to his superior. What a nice young man. Dresses kind of weird though, so early 80’s, with his double Windsor striped tie, polyester coat and aviator goggles, just like we all wore back in the day. I supposed most things eventually come back in fashion. Well, I can only assume he heard my lunch order. I’m starving.

Faceless Old Woman: You’re starving? Try not having a mouth.

Cecil: Oh my god, you scared me. [chuckles] Listeners, we have an unplanned visit from the Faceless Old Woman who secretly lives in your home. Or I guess in this case, your radio studio while you’re still on the air.

FOW: Cecil, we need to talk about the Distant Prince.

Cecil: Few dare to speak at him, so as not to draw his attention. What do you know?

FOW: His harbingers are here. They are prepared to announce his arrival with their long, toothy beaks. They’re stomach-eyes see all. They’ve been rehearsing this announcement in their room at the Hampton Inn on Route 800. They’ve been writing and rewriting their grand pronouncement and teaching it to the court shriekers to shriek out to all of Night Vale.

Cecil: What does that mean?

FOW: What, “shriek”? It’s like a painful yell. Like this: [disturbing scream] Meanwhile, the mangled servants are gathering the ears of important Night Vale politicians.

Cecil: Gross.

FOW: Right? And they will sew the ears onto the walls of the Hampton Inn continental breakfast bar and use them as portals into many dimensions at once. Their plan is to destroy time itself and collapse Night Vale into a dead singularity.

Cecil: Why do they want to do this?

FOW: It was suggested to him by a nice young woman from out of town.

Cecil: What young woman?

FOW: She.. she.. [music distorts, evil voice] The woman from Italy brings fun and jest, consuming all souls until none are left. Distant Prince and she plan the terrible plot: destroying all that is until all is not. I met her in dreams and found a dear friend, a woman a mortal mind can’t comprehend. No guard controls her, no physics can hold her, she’ll set the world on fire but leave you all colder. [music distorts back to normal] Yeah, she and I are best friends now. She’s a lot of fun, really good poet. I gotta go. Steve Carlsberg is back home, and I wanna stand behind him in the mirror when he bends down to wash his face. His shrieks are the funniest.

Cecil: Oh aha hahaha, dumb old Steve! Be nice, OK?

We are getting reports that a dense fog is now pouring from a giant glowing slash in the sky above the Rec Center. Some pteranodons have flown out of it, as well as a commercial airliner. And those who entered the fog reported hearing shouts, blood-curdling streams, and even the echo of drums. But there’s also the Battle of the Bands sound check happening right now at the Rec Center, so it’s probably just that. Either way, keep a close eye out for these apparent tears in the fabric of our reality. Also, go check out the Battle of the Bands. I think Diane Crayton’s son Josh and his boyfriend Grant are organizing that event.

And now a word from our sponsors. Today’s show is brought to by a grey pigeon, whispering to you from your neighbor’s backyard. The pigeon – his name is Alfonso – is telling you that you are the one true God. [serene voice] And that he wants you to bring it a body part. A human body part. Doesn’t matter which part. Just do it. [ominously] Soon. [serenely] “Time’s almost gone. The Bible was wrong,” the pigeon added, suddenly from your right shoulder. “There never was a beginning.” This has been a word from our sponsors.

Reports continue from the last few weeks of people all over Night Vale experiencing false realities. The most believable visions are those of tall winged beings roaming the streets and asking to borrow 10 bucks. City Council is issuing daily press releases, claiming the existence of angels is impossible and illegal. City Council is threatening to no longer speak to anyone who acknowledges the so-called angels. “You are uninvited to our birthday party,” today’s press release reads. “Too bad, there will be karaoke and minigolf. Your loss, angel acknowledger!”

A series of fissures in reality have begun to open up, revealing truths that should never have existed. Like the 12th century Scottish castle sitting atop the stables over on Galloway. Frances Donaldson at the Antiques Mall reports suddenly knowing how to play the piano, when before she only knew how to play keyboard. Larry Leroy out on the edge of town came home to find his wife, Chrysette, mowing the lawn. But he was never married. He last saw Chrysette in high school, when they were both in the lurching band together. And fired chief Ramona Encarnacion said she found a rock in the shape of Harry Styles’ liver. “I don’t know how Harry is getting by without his liver,” Incarnassian said. “Or given how much mud was on this thing, how he was ever getting by with it.”

Night Vale, beware the untruths which attempt to dismantle our town. Stay vigilent, read your journals, look at your photographs. Do your best to remember what is real.

Oh man, speaking of real, I’m real hungry. I wish my intern would get back soon with my salad. It’s been forever since he… Oh, wait. He left his wallet behind. Well, strike one, new intern. How are you supposed to buy lunch if you don’t take any money? Hope he has some cash in his pockets.

I’ll be so annoyed if lunch is late. Ah, this is a pretty nice wallet. Trifold, ooh photo pages, human leather, money clip. I used to have one just like this. maybe let’s find out more about you, kiddo. Let’s see. Bowling league card. Ooh, I love bowling. Young reporter’s league membership. Wow, it’s after my own heart. Photos of him with a young man he could probably be related to and, is that my… who are you? Where’s your driver’s license? Oh God. This can’t.. this can’t be. This here... just…

Uh, OK, here’s the weather while I sort this out.

[“All or Nothing” by the Dream Masons]

My new intern never made it back. He never left, or maybe, was never hear at all. Or maybe still is here after all these years.

After finding his… my… ID in his wallet, I ran out after him. But before I even got out of the building, I found him in the restroom. The door was slightly cracked and the light was on. I heard a voice, a familiar young voice. “Leonard said if I work hard, maybe I’ll be a radio presenter myself some day,” said the voice. I was so frightened but still I looked into the washroom, and he was standing in front of a mirror looking right at himself. I never look into those things, or at least I haven’t in a long time.

“I think the radio station is fun,” he said. “I think the radio station is hidden. I think the radio station is like a dark planet lit by no sun. I think, therefore I soon won’t be,” he said. I wanted to cry out to warn him. My mother told me to stay away from mirrors, and I knew he was in danger. I opened my mouth and tried to step in the room, but I could not speak, could not move forward.

“I’m looking in the mirror,” he said. “The mirror is not covered,” he said. “Stop! Don’t look into the mirror!” I tried to say, but nothing came out of my mind, only spit and inaudible wheeze. Tears stung my eyes. I waved frantically, trying to catch his attention.

“The flickering movement is just behind me,” he said, and then he looked right at me in the mirror. His eyes grew wide and wet. He said, “I…” He said again, “I…” and then he choked. Then he screamed, then I screamed, only again no sound came out. He fell to the floor, and for a moment, I remembered. I remembered blue lights and blood in my throat, and the dark planet lit by no sun and then I forgot it. Or at least what it looked like or, only that it was, or never was or it still is.

His wallet was no longer in my studio, his… my… driver’s license was no longer in my hand, my familiar teenage intern was no longer lying on the ground. The mirror he was looking into is now shattered into thousands of intersecting cracks like parched desert dirt.

I approached the mirror, hoping to see a face I knew: a young man’s face I just barely remember. But I only saw a multiplicity of me, a man divided, unrecognizably under razor-sharp grounds, and behind me a glowing slash in the bathroom wall. When I turned, the whole in reality was gone. Only plain gray subway tiles.

I don’t know what is real. Myself as a younger intern, the Woman from Italy, these holes in reality. Harry Stiles’ liver. Harry Stiles. Are any of these things real?

One thing I know is real were the angels. After hours of waiting in line, their paperwork has been officially filed, with the Hall of Public Records, and a hearing date scheduled sometime between the last Friday of this month, and the last Friday of 2023.

Night Vale. Reality is failing us. And strange forces are gathering. The Distant Prince, the Woman from Italy. The dragons. Huntokar.

I don’t know what we can do to save a failing reality, I only know, uh… We can make real that which we acknowledge and accept. Angels are real, Night Vale. The actuality of people we rarely see or interact with may seem unimportant as fissures in our world, threatening to collapse anything we know but – if you see an angel, tell them you see them. Tell them they are real. Point at them and shout: “You’re. An. Angel!” we can only make real what we accept as real,. Tell them, OK?

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Good things come to those who wait. Good things come slithering down the unctuous brown stone walls to those who wait alone in the dark pit.

#welcome to night vale #wtnv #wtnv transcripts #episode 106 #filings

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funnythingshere0-blog · 6 years

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The Best Comedies of 2018 So Far

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The Best Comedies of 2018 So Far

Here are the 10 movies that made us laugh the most in the first six months of the year, ranked.

In darkest times, we need a good laugh. Actually, we need a good laugh any time. Sadly, in recent years, good comedy on the big screen has been hard to come by. At least in a direct, definitively classified comedy genre form. Last year’s greatest (only?) laugh out loud movies came out of the superhero genre. We’ve got some of that in 2018, as well, but this has also been a very good year already for real comedies. Studio comedies, even.

Maybe there are just more of them? There still seem to be as many clunkers as usual, but midway into 2018, we’ve seen some excellent mainstream comedies along with a few funny indies and a couple British imports that probably should have come out in 2017 and balanced out that year.

I do feel the need to admit I haven’t yet seen Tully, Book Club, or Love, Simon, all of which I hear ought to be considered (maybe they’ll be added to the list by end of year — along with any others you want to encourage me to see for consideration). Otherwise, here is my ranking of the 10 best comedies released in the US this year through the end of June:

10. Deadpool 2

One of our biggest comedy stars of late is not even a real person. Deadpool is the Jim Carrey of the 2010s. No, not Ryan Reynolds, who is very funny in the role, but it’s Deadpool’s name that draws the crowds in. I consider Deadpool 2, maybe even more than the original, to be a comedy first and superhero movie second. The jokes are always more important here than the action. That’s why it’s a shame there’s so much plot included this time around. The sequel feels crowded. But it’s still irreverently hilarious, especially during the X-Force sequence. And Zazie Beetz as Domino is absolutely wonderful.

9. Early Man

Nick Park’s trademark stop-motion animation will always be a delight. Nothing of his will ever top the Wallace and Gromit shorts (even those characters’ feature was slightly lesser fare) or the brilliantly clever Creature Comforts, but most anything from Aardman Animations is like a nice cup of tea. I didn’t laugh as much as I’d hoped during the fairly simply Early Man, which is about a football (soccer) match between a primitive tribe and a more “civilized” people, and personally, I’m just not as interested in sports comedy, but it’s charming and made me smile the whole way through.

8. Tag

I got to visit the set of this comedy, which is based on a true story about friends still playing tag in adulthood, and I saw a whole lot of raunchy improvisation delivered by stars Ed Helms, Jon Hamm, Jake Johnson, and Hannibal Buress (with Carrie Brownstein). So, I was surprised to find none of what I witnessed in the finished product. It’s a more sentimental comedy than anticipated. But the biggest, most pleasant shock was how funny the Jeremy Renner stuff is. Not that he’s responsible so much as it’s the way his over-competitive character is written and directed. There’s some perfect comedic action in this movie, particularly in the Predator homage. Renner’s cover of Crash Test Dummies’ “Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm” during the end credits is also superb.

7. The Eleven O’Clock

One of this year’s Oscar nominees in the live-action short category, the 13-minute Australian film injected some much-needed laughs into the otherwise depressing program when it was released to theaters back in February. It’s a well-executed sketch about two men in a therapy session, each of them claiming to be the doctor treating the other. Josh Lawson (best known here for Superstore) wrote the riddle of a script and stars as one of the players in the psychological game of wits. Damon Herriman (Justified) is his opponent. Together, along with director Derin Seale’s pitch-perfect pacing, they achieve a one-joke comedy short where you’re not just waiting for the punchline reveal. The Eleven O’Clock wasn’t even the most award-worthy short among the nominees but it’s the most memorable.

6. Set It Up

Romantic comedy is not dead, and it doesn’t even have to be that clever to matter (though those do matter more). All you need is very likable leads and some sort of decent pathway to bring them together. Set It Up has the first thing in Zoey Deutch and Glen Powell (both from Everybody Wants Some!!), and it has the second thing in an acknowledged mashup of Cyrano de Bergerac and The Parent Trap where the leads team up to play matchmaker with their awful, lonely bosses (Lucy Liu and Taye Diggs, respectively) but then obviously wind up falling for each other. Not only do I love the simple charms of this movie, but I’m glad to see it on Netflix, where not everything has to suck and fortunately there’s an outlet for small romcoms that don’t have the same old familiar big-name stars. A decade ago, this would have been a limited theatrical release indie rom-com that few people saw. Hopefully, it’s being streamed and enjoyed by a ton of people.

5. Blockers

For a comedy that’s not often especially funny and has no standout performance, Blockers is a pretty great movie. Amidst John Cena putting a beer bong in his butt and Leslie Mann trying too hard (and still coming off as painfully bland) is a well-balanced, positively and progressively themed story of teen girls planning on having sex on prom night. The two narratives, one following the exaggeratedly overprotective parents and the other the genuinely relatable kids, contrast so effectively for a heartfelt combination, like a mashup of Vacation John Hughes and Sixteen Candles John Hughes that maybe even Hughes himself couldn’t have achieved. It’s ultimately so sweet that I got teary-eyed at the end.

4. Thoroughbreds

So dark that you’ll constantly question whether what you’re watching truly counts as a comedy, Cory Finley’s Thoroughbreds follows the story of two rich teens who plot to murder one’s stepfather. The comparisons to Heathers and American Psycho going around aren’t too apt, as it never plays as heightened satire, and its tone is as pitch black and dry as humor can get. It’s more like Heavenly Creatures meets Less Than Zero. The cast is perfect, if a little on the nose considering Anya Taylor-Joy and Olivia Cooke always do well with such expressionless roles and Paul Sparks reaches peak asshole, while Anton Yelchin’s involvement in a supporting role is a bittersweet pleasure.

3. Game Night

Hollywood’s best comedy of the year could have easily been just a passable or even problematic effort. From the guys responsible for the Horrible Bosses scripts and the Vacation reboot-sequel, Game Night was hardly my most anticipated movie of any kind. Plot-wise, it’s still sort of stale, delivering a familiar premise (okay, I guess we haven’t all seen the underrated ’90s Bill Murray comedy The Man Who Knew Too Little, of which Game Night seems like a remake right down to the more successful brother’s role in setting up an immersive theater mystery game that gets confused with a coincidental real crime occurring at the same time). Fortunately, it has Rachel McAdams in her funniest performance since Mean Girls — funniest ever, really. Hollywood needs to be employing her for more movies where she gets to show off such physical and verbal comedic timing and prowess. Also, everything you’ve heard about Jesse Plemons in his deadpan supporting role is correct: he is incredible. More comedies for him, too, please.

2. The Death of Stalin

As disappointing as it was to see Armando Iannucci leave Veep behind, The Death of Stalin was worth the decision. Taking his brand of political satire and farce and applying it to history was ambitious and daring at a time when creative license isn’t recognized enough. The resulting feature, which is based on a French graphic novel, is a mostly silly but also often brutal black comedy about the bureaucratic chaos of a dictatorship after its leader suddenly dies and his minions scramble in their struggle for power. The ensemble cast is impeccable, with Steve Buscemi winning my vote (yay democracy) for MVP in his portrayal of Nikita Khrushchev. So what if it’s not authentic? If only the real world was, in fact, this tame in its political nonsense.

1. Paddington 2

The best movie of any and all genres this year (hey, to a two-year-old it could be horror…), the sequel to one of the most criminally underseen movies of the decade (at least in America) is now the most criminally underseen movie of this year (at least in America). The well-intentioned Paddington Bear, a model character for all kind to look up to, returns along with the Brown family, in a new adventure involving another very not-nice criminal. As if the world of Paddington as adapted by Paul King (this time with co-writer Simon Farnaby) needed any improvement, Paddington 2 also introduces Brendan Gleeson to the mix as a lovably cantankerous prison cook (in another sequence seemingly nodding to Wes Anderson movies) and the award-worthy Hugh Grant as the villain. It’s funny and cheery and great but also GOOD, a joyous antidote that needs to be prescribed to everyone.