#american venom was the coolest fucking thing

[arthursfuckinghat]

"John made it. He's the only one. Rest of us… No. But I tried. In the end, I did."

#just finished #holy fuck what a game #I'm speechless #american venom was the coolest fucking thing #I'll get my thoughts together #but woah #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #john marston #mick squeaks #liveblogging #red dead redemption community #red dead redemption 2 spoilers #spoilers

[aquamanandfriends]

I was tagged by @redemptivexheroics​ tag ten followers you’d like to know better

name — E

gender — Female

star sign — Pisces

height — 5′3″’

age — 26

wallpaper on my phone — Black Widow symbol

house — Slytherin (pride bitch)

ever crush on a teacher — no

coolest halloween costume —  I always liked my Anakin costume but honestly, the coolest was the Venom one I did with paper folded fingers that I painted

favorite 90s tv show — ug so many fuck, um, Buffy the Vampire Slayer

last kiss — end of Feb

have you ever been stood up — yes but by friends not a date...wow I feel like that’s worse

favorite pair of shoes — I have these Inkkas that are Star Wars, I have three and I wish I had the whole collection

have you ever been to vegas — no

favorite fruit — Strawberries

favorite book — Veronika Decides to Die

stupidest thing you’ve ever done — Hm, I feel like I’ve done too many things but the one that always just hits me as my fault is: I had a 1st AD ask me to drive his Mercedes and fill it up as well as clean it and I interrupted him, and I don’t remember doing it but I did, and said I didn’t feel comfortable driving his car. He later fucking told off my key pa and I felt like shit about it. The only time I cried at work. But I wish I’d just nodded and taken his keys, walked away and figured it out.

all time favorite shows — The Mandalorian, American Dad, Rick and Morty, Arrested Development, Community, Doctor Who, Friends, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Archer, 2 Broke Girls, Brooklyn 99, She-rah, Scooby-Doo (the og shit), Clone Wars, Rebels, Phineas and Ferb, Twin Peaks, Cowboy Bebop, Death Note, Yuri on Ice, It’s Always Sunny In Philidelphia, Robot Chicken--I’mma end this here

last movie you saw in theaters — Birds of Prey

Tagging: @thestoriesincoffeestains​, @notsogeniusgirls​, @goxinsane, @persephone-rps @wctchit and anyone else who would like to

#【 speaking ❖ the mun 】 #【 touch this hat and we all go down ❖ mun musing 】 #【 something on my mind ❖ mun thoughts 】

[riot-is-a-boss]

Oh no... I've been summoned... || Mun Info

Rules: answer 10 questions about yourself and then tag 10 people you want to get to know better!

(Don't ask why I put my Jurrasic Park art in here. Guess I'm getting ready for my huge art drop August 5th, lololol)

Star sign: Leo

Gender: I fall under... Idk? I've never really truly thought 'bout it?

Height: 5'10 I'm a tall kiddo XD

Age: A whomping 18 going on 19 lolz

Wallpaper on phone: It's this wicked *tries to show phone to phone* like picture of like a Mintuemen Poster! From Fallout! (This ain't my art fam)

House: I myself am a lil' Griffinpuff. I'd probs be put in Gryffindor, but I got a lotta Hufflepuff qualities 'bout me.

First ever crush on a teacher: In High School... Like, just last school year lol. 😓

Coolest Halloween costume: OH OH OH!!! It was my Sophomore year in High School!!! My friends and I went in a group, and all came as individual X-Men. I got to be Archangel with a twist!

Favorite 90s tv show: Twin Peaks... Cause that was a frickin' mind fuck even when I went and watches it

Last kiss: 3 Months Back. It was during a hardcore game of Truth or Dare lol 😎

Have you ever been stood up?: No, but sadly I've stood someone up 😔🖤

Favorite pair of shoes: Always my Vans. I'm lazy and put weird lace things on them that ya don't have to tie, so I can just slip them on lol😏

Ever been to Vegas?: Naw... Not yet at least

Favorite Fruit: PINEAPPLE... NO WAIT! COCONUT (That's a fruit, right?... Right.)

Favorite book: Oh gosh, my favorite book is instantly this book called Necrotech! It's this awesome book about a kickass, bisexual, cyborg, named Niki, who's trying to figure out what the hell went wrong and why her girlfriend died! First in a series, GOOD READ.

All time favorite shows: Doctor Who , American Horror Story, Tom Clancy's: Jack Ryan, The Office, Parks and Recreation, Avatar: The Last Airbender, aaannnnnddddd... I miss Johnny Bravo for some reason.

Last movie you saw in theaters: Venom

***

Tagged by: @livingdollfrances or @xepher-5 if we bein' personal, lol. She's such a doll, like the heck!?!

Tagging: I really wanna just do that @everyone thing that they got in discord... Goshdarn, anyone who wants to do it do it, lol.

[count-demonlord-of-decadence]

THE NEW GIRL (She’s a Natural)

Ishtar Knoxville sat on the walkway one floor above and perpendicular to her family's three bedroom condo. Here she could observe her family's comings and goings discreetly. Not that her family took any notice of her except for when she was in trouble. But she learned early that the lack of attention provided ample opportunities to observe and learn. Ishtar wasn't like the other girls that attended her public high school. All they cared about was clothes, Instagram likes and what kind of cars people drove. When Ishtar was seven, her little brother Giuseppe Jr was born, erasing any presence she had in the family. Her school life was painfully ordinary until middle school when her friends wanted to act all grown. They were suddenly immersed in makeup, boys and social media. Ishtar tried to keep up but her “friends” quickly made it clear she was cramping their style. Ishtar rejected the conformist matriarchy her ”friends” embraced and they made her an object of mockery and ridicule. Ishtar took refuge in the school library, the last place any “cool kid” would be seen.

The last day before winter break of her seventh grade year, Ishtar was exploring a box of used books donated to the school when she discovered a copy of Justine by Marquis de Sade. The librarian told her it was inappropriate for school but didn't mind if she took it home. She read the whole book that very night. She was enamored with the philosophy, violence and sex. For the first time in her life she saw a world free from the superficial bullshit and embraced a life devoted to the pursuit of pleasure. Of course at age 11 her pleasures consisted of reading, candy and masturbation. And read she did. By her first day of high school she'd read every book deemed pornographic and subversive she could download. Her parents were all too happy to get her gift cards as gifts because it was relatively inexpensive and readily available. When her family asked what she was reading she just responded with the current most popular young adult novel. She was packing a bowl of the low quality high priced weed 14 year old girls have to buy when a strange little man knocked on her family's door.

His facial features made him look like a rat, a rat wearing an expensive suit. He seemed out of place in a suit to Ishtar, more of a blue collar man. The cigarette he was smoking didn't seem out of place. Her father, Giuseppe opened the door recognized the man and stepped out, closing the door behind him.

“You outta your fucking mind coming here!?” He exclaimed in hushed tones, unaware that his voice echoed of the walls. “I got kids in there.”

“Oh sorry bother you at your home Giuseppe,” the French accent and added sarcasm made the man's voice slightly more pleasant than nails on a chalkboard, “But you don't return my calls, texts, e-mail or faxes.” Ishtar swallowed a chuckle at that line. “And we need to talk. We've gotten some complaints about your high prices. The Syndicate doesn't mind if you skim a little here and there but you've been marking up the prices and pocketing the difference. Other dealers do the same. And that was cool but now your prices are so high customers are thinking about going to other suppliers. Now the competition knows they could potentially corner the market by simply lowering their prices. Imma tell you the same thing I told the other guys,” he handed him a slip of paper “these are the new prices. Be a good boy and stick to them, or else.”

Giuseppe Knoxville being half black half Italian suffered no disrespect, especially from a man a foot shorter and 75 pounds lighter than himself. But it was the pat on the cheek that set Giuseppe off.  He grabbed the little man by the throat and balls, threatening to toss him over the rail snarling, “Who the fuck you think you are? Come to my house, disrespect me, in front of my kids! You fucking worm! You're just a goddamn go for! A fucking bell boy! I've taken shits with bigger balls than you! Don't ever come at me with no disrespect! Next time your candy ass will be flying to the ground floor!” Giuseppe released the man and stormed back into the condo. The man took 70 seconds to massage his balls and throat before leaving. Ishtar noted it was the coolest thing she'd ever seen her father do.

A week later, Ishtar was sitting in the same spot when the same rat looking man appeared. He wore the “Canadian tuxedo” comfortably with a Dallas Cowboys hat on backwards. Behind him were four eccentrically dressed individuals. The first was an African American wearing a burgundy top hat, tailcoat, dark glasses, and cotton plugs in the nostrils, as if to resemble a corpse dressed and prepared for burial in the Haitian style. The grouped stopped so a rubenesque Asian woman cosplaying as Saya from Blood-C could paint an ornate skull on the Black man’s face. A 6'1" natural blonde woman wearing a Pocahontas costume watched the painting with visible signs of impatience. Ishtar mused that her breast had to be fake. Last was an is immensely tall and and bulky man. He has long, powerful arms and legs, massive hands and feet. He has shoulder-length slick black hair and imposing facial features. He was dressed like pro wrestler Pete Dunne. The face painting completed, the Big guy turned the knob and opened the door. Ishtar knew the door was locked, having locked it nine minutes prior behind her, and surmised he broke the knob with his hand. The five entered and closed the door behind them. Ishtar dashed home. The doorknob was indeed borken when she entered. Before she could take in the scene, the blonde woman closed the the door and stood guard in front of it. Ishtar noted the woman appeared to be in her 40’s and clearly worked out. The big guy had his foot on her fathers left cheek, pinning his face to the floor. He had her father’s arm left torqued up in a such a manner that guaranteed damage. Her mother, Jessie was holding eight year old Giuseppe Jr., covering his eyes and ears. Isis, her older sister had her face pinned against the refrigerator. A kunai pointed at her throat kept her docile.

The Black man squatted, his crotch inches from Giuseppe's face and spoke with an Eastern European accent, “Permit me to introduce myself; my name is Count Demon Lord, leader of the Black Magick Syndicate. It seems you ignored my instructions and disrespected one of my men.”

The big guy released some of the pressure on Guiseppe’s arm so he could speak rationally.

“Please I can get you the money! I’ll apologize! I’ll do anything you say, just don’t hurt my family!”

Demon Lord rolled his eyes and stood up, the big guy added more pressure to the arm until Giuseppe was silent.

“OH, please er… what was his name le Fou?”

“Giuseppe Knoxville” the French rat looking guy replied.

“Right. Now see here Giuseppe this isn’t about the money. We have plenty of that. Hell this isn’t even about the thievery or the disrespect. We’re big fans of that kind of behavior. The truth is we have money and power beyond your wildest dreams. and the boredom that comes along with it. So when le Fou told us of your altercation, we found what we always seek, a flimsy excuse to act on our most deviant desires. So spare us the pleading and begging, we’re not interested. We’re not here to scare you or teach you a lesson. You all are our prey, and no amount of money or words will change that. Accept your fate so that you might entertain us a bit. Teah…”

The big guy took his queue and loudly broke Giuseppe’s humerus. His scream was drowned out by the laughter of the eccentrics.

“le Fou, search this hovel for anything of merit. Teah, break his legs. Zara, bring me that girl.” The rubenesque Asian woman dragged Isis by her dyed blonde hair to Demon Lord. Isis was 20 years old and had the kind of body other women slave in the gym for. Her face has always been described as angelic. She had her own room, but was suppose to move out and college so Ishtar and Giuseppe Jr. wouldn’t have to share. Their parents never pressured her to do so though. Demon Lord had Isis down to her bra and panties with seven strokes of a karambit he had secreted on his person. Giuseppe had his protests silenced by Teah loudly breaking his left tibia, much to the delight of the eccentrics. Giuseppe groaned an idle threat which provoked Teah to break his right femur. Demon Lord was roughly fondling Iris while Jesse, their mother, continued to cover Giuseppe Jr’s eyes and ears; begging for God to deliver them from this ordeal. Isis took this moment to resist, clawing at Demon Lord’s face. His response was a right hook that landed just under her left eye. Isis hit the carpet barely conscious, the bruise already starting to form under her tears. He then sliced off her bra and panties and raped her. Teah held Giuseppe's head, forcing his eyes open so he could watch.

Before he could discharge, le Fou returned with a pillowcase full of items in one hand and a book in the other. Ishtar could see it was her copy of Justine. From the sudden tension in the room Ishtar assumed interrupting Demon Lord’s raping had dire consequences for the interrupting party. Le Fou apologized saying, “Please forgive my rude interruption but I thought you’d find this of merit.” and handed him the book. Demon Lord took the book, his face expressed shock as he stared at the cover. He stood, his erection pointed directly at Ishtar, still staring at the book, “Which one of you animals reads this filth?!” he venomously demanded. The only person who spoke was Jessie, reciting the book of psalms from memory. “Brynhild!” Demon Lord was enraged “Cut pieces off that little boy until I get an answer!”

The blonde woman moved, but Zara grabbed Ishtar by the back of her neck so she couldn’t escape. Brynhild snatched Giuseppe from his mother’s arms effortlessly. She produced a balisong and threatened to cut off the crying boy’s middle finger. Giuseppe was having his broken arm manhandled by Teah. When Demon Lord started to sodomize Iris with his lizard skin shoe did Ishtar proclaim the book was her’s. Demon Lord approached Ishtar, kneeling in front of her asking, “This is your book?”

“Yes.” Ishtar murmured.

“You’ve actually read this?”

“Twice.” she nodded.

“What did you think about it?”

“Well, I like how the characters do whatever they want without fear of any consequences.”

“Have you read the sequel? Juliette, or Vice Amply Rewarded?”

“Yes, I finished it about a month ago.”

“What is your name Child?”

“Ishtar.”

“After a goddess of sex, desire, justice, and political power; perfection. Ishtar, our syndicate is full of libertines who follow the treatises outlined in de Sade’s books. Our money and power allow any action to go unpunished by law enforcement. That’s why no police are coming, none of your neighbors will check on you. I offer you an invitation into our syndicate, and a life of vice amply rewarded. Or you can watch us rape, torture and murder your family and luxuriate in it. But know that revenge and justice belong to the rich and powerful and none are as rich and powerful as us. We’ll never be arrested or tried for this. No one would deign to take our lives on your behalf.”

Ishtar thought it over. Her father was a successful contractor out of high school until three years ago, when he injured his back on the job. But because Giuseppe wasn’t following established safety protocols, the company refused to pay his medical bills. He exhausted their savings on a lawsuit he lost. All because he wanted the world to understand he was a real man, full of arrogance and machismo. In the seven years since Giuseppe Jr was born, Ishtar could count on one hand the number of times her father had a meaningful conversation with her; save holidays, birthdays, and half assed parenting during the commercials of baseball games. His son was the focus of his love and affection. Why should she act in the interests of such a man?

Jessie Knoxville wasn’t Ishtar or Isis’ biological mother. That honor belonged to Isabelle Flores-Knoxville, currently known as Prisoner #97S444. She was convicted 12 years ago for arson in the second degree and two counts of attempted murder for fire bombing a warehouse owned by an alleged racist. Two security guards were present with one dying, though she was found not guilty of one count of murder in the first degree. Sentence: 18 years, eligible for parole in five which was denied for amassing other charges while incarcerated. Jessie Knoxville was a woman who assumed her first two marriages to abusive douchebags were due to her lack of faith in God. Every ill and woe in this world was due one’s poor relationship with God, according to her. She became devout and seven months later she meets Giuseppe Knoxville. After a 298 day courtship they were married, which Jessie believed was God’s blessing on her. Ten months later Giuseppe Jr was born, another miracle she attributed to God because her first two marriages produced no children. God didn’t keep her from gaining 65 lbs from an increasingly sedentary lifestyle since becoming pregnant.

Ishtar wished her sister refused to move about just to spite her, knowing once her room became Ishtar’s, she’d never get it back. But the truth was Giuseppe squandered their college fund on that failed lawsuit, and Isis would throw this in their father’s face whenever Jessie wasn’t in earshot. But that was a smokescreen for Isis did not talent of any kind. Her grades have always been poor, since kindergarten. Jessie and Ishtar have openly pondered if she has an undiagnosed learning deficiency. She couldn’t learn high school cheerleading routines, sing to save her life or act her way through a high school play. She couldn’t paint, draw, sculpt or weave.

She could barely add an app to her phone without assistance.

Giuseppe Jr was only seven and understood his parents would never believe he could sin. Twice his school accused him of vandalism and both times they denied he was capable of such behaviour. Ishtar once accused him of stealing a pair of her panties, but their parents assumed she’d misplaced them. Isis accused him of stealing some money from her and nothing was done. He acted with impunity and at that thought Ishtar had her answer. Thinking upon characters from the books she’d read, she put her hands on her hips and replied, “Vice amply rewarded please.” earning an applause and cheers from the eccentrics.

“Excellent!” Demon Lord mused, “You may have the honor of orchestrating their fates.”

“Do we have to kill them?” Ishtar asked.

“Only if you desire it child. Some fates are worse than death”

“Good. I really want them to suffer and go on suffering. I assume no act is taboo?”

“My child, if one here will not commit the act you envision, we can have someone here who will in thirty minutes.”

“In that case, I want one of you to sodomize my little brother.” Ishtar chose her words so the Giuseppe Jr wouldn’t understand. The eccentrics all looked to Teah, who released the father, licked his lips and took hold of the son. Brynhild took over the job of guarding the father while Demon Lord resumed his raping of Isis. Jessie became hysterical and tried to rush Teah, but Zara stopped her with a quick kick to her liver. By then Teah had the boy naked and on the carpet in front of his father. Teah removed his own clothing, revealing an uncircumcised member as large as Ishtar’s forearm. Using only his spittle as lubricant, Teah violently forced his prick into the boy, pulling his hair to keep his face in his father’s line of sight.

Jessie began to scream about the wrath of God and how vengeance will be his and how they’re all going to Hell. “Le Fou was it?” Ishtar asked of the little man to which he nodded, “Go into my bitch sister’s room, find her dildo and stuff it into my STEP mother’s mouth.”

“I thought these would come in handy.” Le Fou replied producing Isis’ John Holmes Realistic Dildo and a roll of duct tape from the pillow case. Zara zip tied Jessie’s hand behind her back as Le Fou approached. Between the two of them, it only took 50 seconds to get the dildo secured in her mouth.

Ishtar used the basting brush from the kitchen to paint an inverted pentagram on her father’s face with the blood leaking from her brother’s continually violated anus. She then kicked him in the ribs six times before asking someone to castrate him. Brynhild was happy to oblige. Le Fou brought her a fillet knife from the kitchen and helped Ishtar strip and restrain Giuseppe while Brynhild did the deed. Ishtar took her father’s genitalia and put them in the microwave and set it to cook on full power for 29 minutes. Giuseppe fainted from the pain, much to the disgust of the eccentrics.

Ishtar then approached Teah, staring at Jessie as she said, “I want you to discharge in my mouth so I can show these cunts I’m in for well more than a pound.” Teah intensified his thrusting to expedite orgasam. When on the verge, he pulled out so swiftly splattered wherever possible. Ishtar aimed the blood and shit covered member to her mouth. Ishtar was startled by the kinetic energy of the discharge; it’s thickness made it impossible to swallow in two gulps. What she couldn't swallow, she spat in her little brother’s face. Taking this cue, Demon Lord pulled out and discharged his thin, yet plentiful semen all over Giuseppe Jr’s face; the eccentrics applauded.

Ishtar went to the kitchen and returned with a can of insecticide. She handed it to Brynhild and ordered her to shove it in Jessie cunt. Upon hearing this, Jessie offered the fiercest resistance she could, which was futile given her condition. Brynhild laughed as dodged and blocked Jessie’s kicking as a diversion, Teah grabbed her by the neck, picked her up and slammed her back into the armchair only Giuseppe was allowed to sit in. Before she could recover, Brynhild tore her cheap sweat pants and cheap panties off and Teah grabbed her heels and spread her legs as wide as possible. Ishtar took the cap off and opened her mother’s vagina for penetration. Brynhild lubricated the spray can with juices fingered out of Jessie and herself and used both hands to shove it in. She simply whimpered through the ordeal, until the spray activated; then she screamed and thrashed about as best she could. This amused the eccentrics. Teah and Brynhild released her so she could fall to the floor and give birth to the spray can.

Isis began to stir and at Ishtar's command Zara stood her up by her hair and cuffed her behind the back. Ishtar caressed her sister's smooth skin with the flat of the fillet knife as she spoke, “How many times did you call me lesbian, dyke, creep and retarded?”

“Please Ish…”

“How many times did you punch, kick and slap me? Why did you hate me just for being your sister?”

“I'm sorry Ishtar. Please stop…”

“YOU'RE ONLY SORRY TO SAVE YOUR MISERABLE LIFE YOU STUPID FUCKING COW! But I have no plans to murder you, yet. I want you to experience the lesbianism that disgusts you so. Zara, can you make this bitch cum like she never came before?”

“Not my bag babe, but Brynhild can.” Zara shoved Isis into the armchair and spread her legs like Teah had done Jessie as Brynhild knelt and began cunnilingus. Meanwhile Jessie began to make coughing and choking noises in between random spasms. Demon Lord lacerated her left cheek while cutting the tape. He removed the dildo from her mouth and she vomited violently. This brought Giuseppe back to consciousness, who could only wail in pain and despair.

“Yes! Oh my gods yes!” Ishtar shouted. “That sound is what I wanted to hear! The sound of a man being devoured by is despair, his anguish!” Ishtar stripped off her clothing and began frigging her hairy cunt. “Teah,” she commanded, “fuck my father up the ass. Lube it with his whore’s vomit. Le Fou, fuck his whore up the ass. Have them face to face so they can kiss each other. I wish to discharge my fuck upon their faces.” Demon Lord to position behind Zara adding, “This cunt craves prick, and prick it shall have!”

It was arranged and performed as described.

When all save Giuseppe and Jessie had discharged, Ishtar packed a suitcase with her meager belongings. She dressed and departed with the eccentrics. Teah Demon Lord, and Le Fou were in one car, Zara, Brynhild and Ishtar in another. Demon Lord’s group had sped off ahead, and as Ishtar’s group followed the spotted Giuseppe Jr three blocks away. He walked like a zombie, naked and dripping blood from his rectum. Ishtar bade Brynhild pull over and she opened her door saying, “Junior! Thank God you got out of there too! Quickly, get in before they find out we’re gone.” Giuseppe Jr was apprehensive, also seven and in a lot of pain. No one answered any door he knocked on, no passerby offered him help or listened to his pleas. This was the only help offered him since leaving the condo. He took Ishtar’s hand and got in the car. Ishtar closed the door behind him and told Brynhild to drive. The doors loudly locked and they sped to catch up to the other car.

“Relax little brother, everything is gonna be alright from now on.” Ishtar smiled. This brought a cackle from the driver seat. Giuseppe Jr got a good look at Brynhild in the driver seat and panicked. He tried to open the door but couldn’t, the doors had childproof locks.

#Evilcorey's pointless fiction #fiction #pointless fiction

[transcendencenyu]

paisley // landslide brought us down.

“I can feel how tense your shoulders are. Calm down, Peter.”

The bar had a buzz around it, and Paisley wasn’t sure if that was normal on Wednesday nights or if the Olympics were causing the influx of people to chat so much. There had to be more in the building than what should have been allowed — whether it was small or a bar hall like the ones over in Brooklyn. She could blame her anxiety on the noise level; that seemed like it would slide if anyone asked.

Peter knew better. When he squeezed her hand, he did his best not cause her anxiety to get any worse. He would have pointed out that they look like a right pair, fretting over something they put themselves into. Instead, he just kept his voice as neutral as he could. “Alright.”

“I think I see Clint and a redhead…that’s Nat, right?”

“Probably.” Paisley shurgged. Natasha changed her hair so often that she was never quite sure where they were at — and it wasn’t as though Nat thought that Paisley needed that information.

“Look, Pai — when I said to have a little fun on this trip, I didn’t mean like this.” Clint joked.

He slid into his spot next from her, Nat joining his side. If anyone else had been planning on sitting there, then they would be sorely mistaken. His hand found Lucky’s head from beneath the table, a gentle pat doing well as his greeting. The dog lived up to his name, as he was supposed to, thus far in the games. Clint didn’t want to think about a game where Paisley didn’t come, Lucky next to her and watching the crowds around him.

There’s some small chat as the others slowly channel in. Paisley feels like it’s the final scene of the Sopranos (or at least how someone described it to her) with everyone funneling in and she’s just waiting for something to happen or explode or something. All she needs is a Journey song playing overhead, and she’d be good.

“They’ve got a jukebox, Nat!” Clint jokes from somewhere a little bit away. He had just gone to get some drinks, and of course he finds a fucking jukebox. “Bet they have any American hits?”

She hears Nat’s chair shuffle, and then she’s gone. A moment later, “They have “Don’t Stop Believing”! Nat, do you have any stray quarters?”

“They don’t use quarters here—“

“It’s an American jukebox. Of course you need quarters.”

“Do they have any Fleetwood?” Peter shouts from his spot. Clint peers over the selection of songs, finding the artists graced with the first letter of ‘F’.

Terrie’s just taking her seat across from Peter, and Stephen’s next to her as they settle in. He quirks an eyebrow. “They probably only have the early hits.”

“You want ‘Landslide’ or ‘The Chain’?”

Peter looks over to Stephen — who he was pretty sure was the roommate’s boyfriend. It was one of the few times he wished Paisley could see, just so she could point out everyone. he needed to remind one of her friends to put photos on allher contacts, so she had something to show others if she ever needed it. He made a note to just do them himself later. He gave the man a grin, and then turned to Clint. “Surprise me.”

The opening chords of an acoustic guitar came in, and Paisley heard Stephen mutter to Terrie. “So the archer went with the less sappy one.”

“Okay — why don’t we just get this trial underway?” Peter starts. He can barely hold himself together, and even with good music playing overhead, there’s still a sense of urgency when he speaks.

“It’s not a trial,” Steve tries to reason.

“What makes you think it’s a trial?” Terrie questions. She’s got an arm leaned on the table to support herself, and Peter can’t help but think she’s a less-appeasing version of the Most Interesting Man in the World — complete with the smug grin.

“Yeah, you aren’t guilty of anything.” Paisley adds. She’s sweet — and she’s got good intentions. But, god, if she could see the amount of stares that were pointed directly at him? Maybe inviting everyone she knew on the trip to some dinky bar wasn’t the best idea on his part.

“Yet.” Tony whispers in Bruce’s ear. He snickers a little, but is silenced by Nat giving him a look from across the table.

Paisley wants to ring out Tony’s neck. And Terrie’s. And anyone else who was giving him a hard time; she’d just have to get Peter to guide her hands to their necks. “Anyone have any questions for him? Let’s just get this over with so there’s no more weird tension.”

‘Why do you like her?” Steve starts. Always the leader, it seemed. “That should be easy, right?”

“Dude,” Peter sighed. Paisley suppressed a sudden giggle from next to him, and she was pretty sure she covered it with a cough enough for him not to notice. He heard, though, and there was just one more reason to add to the list. “She’s, uh, spunky. First time I saw her — she was wearing the coolest glasses, and I dunno? She’s just Paisley.” The question was idiotic, actually. The more he sat on it, Peter felt like he didn’t need to give a laundry-list of reasons as to why Paisley meant something to him. The venom in his tone was obvious when he shot back, “Why’d you like her?”

“Peter—”

I picked those out,” Terrie tried. “The glasses.”

“Someone either pick another question or this thing is over.” Paisley groaned.

Was everyone at the table missing something? Peter knew Paisley couldn’t see, but he sure felt like there was a shit ton wrong with everyone else — even if they didn’t know it. Why would anyone agree to this sort of trial dinner? It wasn’t as though they were her family. He had a rowdy family, and they’d act better than this bunch.  

“Have you two…?” The quiet one at the end of the table asked.

“Bucky!” The blind hissed back.

He held his hands out in defense, nearly knocking over one of Thor’s beer glasses in near him. The glass clattered against another.“I just want to know. You haven’t told us anything, and you need to get back—”

“Bucky, please.” She pleaded.

Peter squeezed her hand. “Am allowed to talk about that?”

“I’ve got it.” She could hear the grin on his face, like he was just waiting to give the answer and see her flustered. The worst part was that they hadn’t even done anything, and she was still finding blush blossoming over her cheeks like a school-girl. Too bad he had the better giggle. ”No. We haven’t.” Maybe she heard it wrong, but did someone at the table make a sad sort of response? “And it’s none of your business, anyways.”

There was a minimal amount of chatter at the table, and as Peter field another question from Terrie (which Paisley was pretty sure was bitterly about if he had any hobbies other than finding Paisley in odd circumstances), Clint leaned over to whisper in Paisley’s ear — “Does he even know?”

He was too close. She had to take a breath. “Not yet.”

“What don’t I know?” Peter butted in. Apparently, he had answered Terrie’s question, but she didn’t sound happy as she rattled something off another one.

Clint was quick to cover since Pai was busy trying to figure out what she’d missed. “That she’s head over heels for you, man.”Paisley didn’t know if that was better or worse. Either way, it was only natural for her head to fall in her hands. Could anyone else feel the anxiety starting to bubble up in her chest?

“Oh,” Peter breathed out. He was caught between two conversations and gave terrie a quick ‘one minute’ finger as he smiled down at who should have been the center of attention (even though he would have enjoyed it in better fashion). Clint was pretty sure he saw the sides of Peter’s mouth twitch upwards as his eyes found the girl between them.“Well, I do now. Good thing she already knows how much I like her.”

He turned his attention back to Terrie.

“Oh, I’m gonna vomit?” The archer gagged. “Nat, do you know if they have any doggy bags?” While the redhead fielded complaints, Tony figured it was his turn to speak up. He’d been pretty quiet for the majority of the night, and he watched as he beat Terrie to another question. God, he was worrisome about this noob as much as the next guy, but he wasn’t trying to convict the poor man of murder.

“You go to Columbia, right?”

“Yeah — for astronomy.” Peter sounded relieved to have a semi-normal question, for once. Anything to get Paisley’s roommate off the floor for a second.  

“Do you have any plans for afterwords?”

This was a trap, and he was sure of it. What the perfectly-taken-care-of-beard man meant was ‘Does your future involve the blonde, blind girl next to you?’. He wished he was better at dodging things. “Maybe move back to home to Missouri, I dunno. I’m just kind of waiting to see what happens.” That was good, right?

“Are there any astronomy jobs in Missouri?” Bruce had to ask. He was watching the door to the kitchen, where the appitizers had still yet to arrive from.

“You ever been out there? Stars are a lot easier to see with or without a telescope.”

“Sounds boring.” Terrie said.

“Oh, like you have a major.” Paisley broke. She regretted the moment her words fell out, and was about to apologize when Peter cut in.

“This is going great.” He chuckled.

“You’re not trying that hard.” Terrie shot back.

He quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, and what am I supposed to do? Paisley’s the only one that matters here, and she’s got on to all of you more than me.”

“Guys, please.” The girl in question interjected. “You all said you’d behave.”

“I, for one, like him.” Thor butt in. He’d been pretty quiet, mainly chatting with one of the bartenders for the majority of the conversation. Although, he wasn’t quite sure how much his opinion mattered anyways.

“Thanks, man.” Peter smiled.

“He’s vaguley puny, but he and Paisley look good together.”

“Hey—”

“He’s fine, Thor.” Paisley shot him down. “I like him the way he is.”

“What do you want, Paisley? A stamp of approval?” Stephen sighed. The voice of reason in every conversation had chosen to speak up, but it wasn’t anything she wanted to hear.

“I just want you all to like him. If I keep coming feeling awkward tension because I have a romantic life, I’m gonna scream.” Which was true. She didn’t know how many more moments of silence she could come home to, or murmered thoughts that others didnt’t think she would hear. Why was it so hard for all of them to just pretend like they would let her be happy, and not hover over her? Great — they cared. That was nice. But, she was an adult and she needed to be able to do things on her own.

“Okay, fine — he’s alright.” Steve added. “Are we done?”

“What’s wrong with him?” Paisley’s voice broke, betraying her.

“Paisley,” Peter tried. He held her hand tightly, and he could hear her breathing becoming more and more uneven as the seconds passed. A walk sounded nice, maybe they could walk around the block before the food came out? Did anyone even order something good for Paisley with the appitizers?  

Speaking of the girl, he couldn’t help but hear her voice getting more frayed. He wasn’t sure if he had heard her this emotional before. Had he? “No, just tell me why you don’t like him.” She got out. From where Peter sat, he could see Lucky starting to notice her distress.

“He’s fine, Pai.” Clint tried.

“Yeah,” Tony seconded him. “He seems good—”

“No, I’m not worried about you guys. Why doesn’t anyone across from me like him?” Which — who all was that? She knew Terrie wasn’t fond of him, or Steve really. But when did the blond boy not take Terrie’s side?

“Maybe she’s jealous.” Peter finally broke. He was on fucking thin ice, but how could he not skate over it? He stared Terrie down, knowing his death wish was pretty close to happening. He could almost hear the ice starting to crack under him as he continued. “That was the plan with your last relationship, right?”

“Peter,” Paisley cautioned. Where was that doggy bag Clint had joked about?

“What is he talking about?” Bucky tried, but he wasn’t very convincing. The man wasn’t really going down this path, was he?

Steve just buried his face away.

Terrie was prepping herself to respond when Peter stopped her again. (That seemed to be talent of the night; or maybe it was a game? Who could talk before Terrie could?) “Yeah. When you and Steve dated, she was jealous. That was the plan, right? So, they’d get together?”

“You need to shut him up, Pai.” Bucky snapped.

She rose to her feet with a clatter, yanking him away. “We aren’t doing this tonight. Let’s go take a walk.”

“You can’t run away, Paisley.” Tony sighed. As though he actually knew what was really going on! Paisley scoffed, and her hands fumbled for the sturdiness Peter provided. He’d gotten up, and her hands were pushing his shoulders away from the table. Although, she had them heading for the kitchen.

He changed direction, and moved to grab her hands as he guided her towards the balmy air Rio provided. As they got out the door, she shouted, “I didn’t make this mess! She wasn’t supposed to know.”

“Oh, that’s shitty.” Bruce added from back at the table.

“She’ll be back.” Clint thought he was good at diffusing sitations, but everyone at the table looked like a bomb was about to go off. It probably was. “She left the dog.”

Outside, the quiet of an alleyway provided space to be alone and Paisley couldn;t help but slap Peter across what she hoped was his chest. It didn’t hit that much, but Peter knew he deserved it. And the (softer) hit after that — and the next one. “Why would you do that?” she almost cried.

His heart sunk into his stomach. “I’m sorry.” His mouth got the better of him, but she knew that. “I’ll go in and apologize.”

“No, they don’t need to worry about you now.” She gave up a defense and chose to lean against his chest, instead. Was it muscle memory that his came up to support her? She only jumped slightly. “We just have to deal with the wrath of Terrie.”

#so uhm....yeah #enjoy! #*that hated emoji*