#rainbow if he isn’t happy in the third book girl put your hands up it’s fightin time

[shesthewindandsea]

I feel like it’s been too long since I mentioned how much I love Simon Snow. No it’s DEFINITELY been too long. I love him. I love him so much. He is objectively amazing and soft and good and tries so hard to be good. He deserves to be happy please let him be happy

#rainbow if he isn’t happy in the third book girl put your hands up it’s fightin time #I just so absorbed into the last 100 or so pages time absolutely flew by but now I’m exhausted so break #I have said it before and I will say it a THOUSAND times. go read Carry On. Do it #it’s so fucking good it’s my favorite book in the whole world and y’all KNOW I have good taste #the story is fantastic. the characters are whole PEOPLE they’re so interesting and loveable and HATEABLE #there’s some nice diversity thrown in. it’s just so fucking incredible Rainbow fucking nailed it #so the plots kind of a mess big deal it’s GOOD #it’s magic and enemies to lovers. what else do you want???? #go read Carry On by Rainbow Rowell #and then read Wayward Son #and then read Anyway The Wind Blows when it comes out in July #the simon snow series

[dontshootmespence]

Through It All

Part 28

Summary: Now married, Spencer & Y/N navigate the D/s lifestyle. How will their relationship change?

Words: 1,832

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff. Have a dentist on hand. 

A/N: No smut, just another fluffy installment.

All of the people in the doctor’s office are quietly confused about the four people entering the waiting room together, but neither you nor Spencer can muster up the energy to care. Today, you’ll know if the babies are healthy, hear their heartbeats, and possibly even find out whether you’re having boys or girls or one of each.

As you make your way up to the front desk, you link your arm in Ai’s. She’s happy and excited and nervous, but also a little sad, though she doesn’t confide that in you. You can just see it in her eyes; it’s all bittersweet. “Ai Campbell,” she says softly. “My boyfriend, Kyle, and the adoptive parents, Spencer and Y/N Reid will be coming in with me. That’s okay, right? We discussed it on the phone a few days ago.”

The woman reiterates that it’s fine, “as long as they all remain out of the doctor’s way,” which is perfectly fine with you. All you want to do is make sure they’re healthy and that Ai is as comfortable as she can be considering she’s going to be carrying two full grown babies soon.

Inside the office, Ai slips onto the table and lifts her shirt. She’s a small woman so her bump is already fairly visible despite being just over 3 months along.

Kyle sits at Ai’s side, occasionally giving her hand a squeeze. Though they both agree that giving their children up for adoption is what’s best for all of them in the long run, you can all see that this is especially difficult for Ai; they’re growing in her belly. You’d never have been able to give up Charlotte. All you can do is make it as easy on her as possible.

Just as Kyle presses a kiss to Ai’s temple, the doctor comes in and greets you all. He’s been made aware of your situation by her nurses and Ai. “How are you feeling, Ai?”

“A little morning sickness, and I can tell my back is going to kill me soon, but for now I’m okay.”

As the doctor explains that everything she’s feeling is normal (and giving her a heads up about what’s to come), she squirts some of the ultrasound jelly on her stomach, gently passing the wand over her. One pass. Two. Then she wiggles it around and you see two tiny peanuts - actually they’re about the size of nectarines - on the screen and you start to sob, cradling your head in Spencer’s shoulder. He can’t help but smile, a tear falling down his cheek as he and Ai share a moment. You’re both eternally grateful for the opportunity they’re giving you. “So what are we having?” Ai asks, making the effort to smile when she looks at you both. “We all want to know, right?”

You, Spencer and Kyle nod in agreement and wait with baited breath for the doctor to make the announcement. “Well, let me see...given that it’s twins there is a greater chance of us being wrong-”

“But with a single baby at 14 weeks you can tell with between 90 and 96 percent accuracy so-sorry, I’ll shut up.” Spencer bites his lip and stifles a laugh. He’s full of nervous energy and when he’s nervous the stats start flying. Thankfully, it makes Ai laugh, which allows Kyle to breathe a bit too.

The doctor finally settles the wand in place. “It looks like you’re having...one of each,” she says softly. Immediately, you and Ai burst into tears. You bend down to give her a hug, not giving a crap if you get any of the jelly on your clothes.

“Looks like you’re having a boy and a girl,” Ai says. The lightness in her voice makes her happiness for you apparent, despite how she might be feeling herself.

Pressing a kiss to her head, you wipe her tears away with the pads of your thumbs. “We all are.”

---

With the excitement of two babies on the horizon and a toddler at home, Spencer and yourself fall once again into the most predictable of routines. Unlike with Charlotte however, you aren’t feeling physically gross, so you’re still able to fit in quickies at night and random morning showers together. Without the physical and mental weight of an actual pregnancy, plus this being your second (and third) baby, you’re feeling more confident, which Spencer recognizes. In moments where you question whether or not you should’ve tried for another baby naturally, he reminds you of how you’re feeling. Every one of your roles - wife, mother, sub - you know who you are within them now.

Quickly enough, Ai is five months along. The two of you text every single day, and your boys are in a group text thread with you as well. She’s still not rid of morning sickness, but it’s lessening.

“The back pain though,” she says, her voice resounding through the apartment through the laptop during one of your weekend video chats, “The back pain is brutal. My doctor says I should probably be on bedrest in a month or two. Everyone at work is really helpful though. I’m allowed to sit all the time, which I do, because now I can’t see my feet either. But they’re there, because they hurt like hell.”

Her frankness makes you and Spencer snort. You remember not being able to see your feet at the end of your pregnancy. It was brutal. Thankfully, Charlotte, who’s playing with her baby doll across the room, is super cute and totally worth it. “What about food? Are you able to eat? Any smells turning you off? Any cravings?”

“Smelling coffee makes me want to vomit. Which sucks because I love coffee. Even though I couldn’t drink anything but one cup of decaf,” she says, rambling. You don’t want to laugh, but you can’t help it. The feelings are so real. “I also hate that I can’t have a glass of wine every now and then, not that I do,” she adds quickly.

Spencer laughs when Ai meets his gaze through the screen. “You’re growing two babies, heading off to college and working your ass off, I’m not about to turn you in for a tiny bit of underage drinking.”

“Thanks,” she laughs. “I just miss relaxing with a glass of wine.”

“I feel you. Anything you’re craving?”

“Cliche as it is, pickles. Kyle went out last week at 2 am to grab me a jar. Also breakfast foods. And chocolate. Ooohh, chocolate.” As if on cue, Kyle appears at the side of the screen with a square of Ghirardelli chocolate for the woman he loves. “You do love me.”

Stuffing the chocolate in her mouth, she sighs and closes her eyes, probably feeling a moment’s contentment amidst a sea of morning sickness, back pain and giant feet. “Are you able to come over for dinner sometime soon? Spencer and I will cook breakfast for dinner. Bacon and eggs and-”

“Hash browns?” She asks, her smile wide and pleading.

“Absolutely. What’s your favorite chocolate or candy bar? I’ll make sure we have one of those on tap for you too.”

“Almond Joy! You’re the best.” By the end of the video chat, you have plans for a few weeks later.

---

Three weeks later, Ai and Kyle knock at the door just five minutes after 6. Ai looks like she’s about to pop. “Everything smells delicious,” Kyle says, his arm linked in Ai’s as he helps her waddle to the table. “Bacon is one of God’s greatest works.”

“I have to agree,” Spencer laughs.

Charlotte runs into his arms and he introduces her to Ai and Kyle. You’ve shown her pictures of them and she’s seen them on video calls, but never in person. Smiling at Ai, she points to her stomach. “Babies?”

“Yes, my little flower,” Spencer coos. “Your brother and sister are in there. Want to sit next to Ai for dinner?”

“Breffast,” she replies. She knows it’s breakfast food. Ai is a natural with her and you know when the two of them are ready to be parents they’ll make wonderful ones.

At the stove, you finish up the rest of the food and turn the stove off while Spencer pulls out plates and utensils. “Want to help Daddy make a plate of food for Ai? And Kyle?” Charlotte is eager to help. She’s a natural helper. Even though you aren’t pregnant you feel like you could cry. She’s going to be such a wonderful big sister.

All of you eat your weight in eggs and bacon and hash browns. Except Charlotte. She tries to but she’s still a messy eater so most of it ends up on the table or the floor. After dinner, your little angel climbs into Spencer’s lap and falls asleep against his chest. “Excuse me,” he whispers. “I’m just going to go put her in bed.”

It’s nearly 15 minutes before Spencer leaves Charlotte’s room with the soft thud of her bedroom door. “Sorry, I needed to read her the book with the rainbow fish three times before she would fall asleep.” Laughing, he sits down at your side and gives your hand a squeeze. Before Ai and Kyle came over, you’d discussed this, but you didn’t want to start without him. “We have something we wanted to ask you,” he said softly, careful to keep his voice down so as to not wake Charlotte. He glanced at you and let you take over.

Your voice was shaky. This was important to you. And you hoped it would be to them too. “We got to talking and we- well we realize how hard this is for you-”

“It’s necessary,” Ai interrupts. Her eyes spoke the truth but the pain sat vividly behind the facade.

“We know,” Spencer replies. “But we realize this isn’t an easy decision. We want you to know that you always have a place in their lives.”

“That’s why,” you start again after clearing your throat, “we wanted to ask if you would want to give us their middle names. Maybe family names. Something that’s special to you.”

Tears gathered at the corners of both their eyes before Ai completely broke down. “Really? I mean, we never thought- it would mean the world to-” she clutched her hand to her mouth to stem the sobs that flowed from her mouth. “My father’s given name is Xing. It means star or spark. Do you know what his first name is going to be?”

Spencer chuckled. “We still haven’t settled on one. Y/N wants Spencer Jr., but I’m not so keen on that. We both like Noah and Blake. Either way, his middle name will be Xing.”

“For the girl, we’re tossing between Morgan and Diana.”

Kyle began to chuckle, the tears finally flowing. “How about both? My mother’s name is Diana.”

“Mine too,” Spencer says. “Morgan Diana. For both of us.”

Kyle smiles. “For all of us.”

@heycasbutt @ultrarebelheart @katherineisagubler @proud-slytherin-ghost @randomwriter23 @fandom-queen67 @sixx-sic-sixx @xqueenofthecraziesx @aofay02 @groovyreid @criesinreid @jdougl-love @xreider @cringeemospntrashassbutt @prettyboyeffect @prettyboyreid @themanip @spencerreidsthings @augustgraceful @whollytaciturn @prisonreid @factualfic @jasmine-negron @snitchthewitch @ellabobella051419 @crazyforsstuff @kaatelyyynn @jane-dough @dreatine @bitter-post-millennial @adlerorzel-blog @hallieedrew @psychedelephantt @krisymccall996 @4ueijos @mclaujac @ray-likes-starwars @nurseemilyblog @slightlyvicked @she4567 @guesswhosback129 @princessdolan @happycreatorfangirl @fallwhisper @nyemadowell @sammy-jo1977 @sin-bin-and-tragedies @imsuperawkward @ahhahahaheehee @crispygiantsaladgarden @reputay-swift @pizzarollsfordayz @andiebeaword @timey-wimey-lovi @garbagecanfics @friedparadisetale @dereksbetaa @idontevenknow2 @holyfishloverfarm @nohemi2500 @typeshitbih @sadgirlhan @kmc217 @bigbuttsowhatuniverse @charmedfandomgal @im--blushing @dangerouspersonllamabagel @fichoe21 @yes-sir-hotchner @thefandomallrounder @mrsenos08 @walkerchick007 @letsdisneythings @winchesterqueenie @specialagentleigh @spn-wheresthepie @haileymew @bitchyoulied @geniusgub @urdicksmol @6lack6erry @slutlanna976 @downondilaudid @baileysb1tch @la-vie-en-amour1 @letsdoit-tomorrow @eideticprettyboydrreid @lazynoodledragon @shybaby231 @aimzonicles97 @grace-superpowers @softestlavender @ssa-dr-ladylock @drprettyboy @patricks-fabulous-face @tearosaria @shxdowofdarkness @marvels-gurl @gublergirls​

#through it all #the most natural thing in the world #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction

[acabecca]

💋, 🧡, 📙, ⭐, 🍐, 💙, 🔮 and 🎀 for my girl Cass!!

💋 How affectionate are they with their friends? Their family? Their romantic partner(s) (if they have any)? Are they more physical or emotional when it comes to displaying their affection? Why? She isn’t that affectionate with her family! Her mum cuddles her a lot but Cass just rolls her eyes at her - being away from home for most of the year, she’s not all that close to them. She loves Cedric and she’s close to him, but they have that kind of sibling relationship were they enjoy winding each other up (through love, of course). She is affectionate with some of her friends - Hannah and Justin, the Weasley twins, Ginny, and later on with Harry too. She tries to be affectionate with Ron but he’s an awkward sod isn’t he, as soon as she tries to hug him he starts muttering and shoves her away! She would love to be physically affectionate with Draco - like she wants to hold his hand, his her arm through his, lean into him as they’re walking down the corridor - but she knows that when they’re around other people it makes him feel uncomfortable so she holds back a lot. I suppose in that way she is emotionally affectionate with him, because she knows what he needs/wants, and she doesn’t push him.

🧡 Who is your OC’s favourite person? Why is this person the top of their list and have they actually met them (an idol or rolemodel or celeb can be someone’s favourite after all!). Up until third year, her idol was definitely Cedric. Everyone loved him - he was popular, smart, and an all round nice person. She was super proud and happy to look up to her big brother. But then she met Professor Lupin, and he was the one who noticed things about her that no one else really did - like that she felt she was living in her brother’s shadow, she needed to become her own person, not just Cedric Diggory’s little sister. Remus is 100% her hero and she adores him, she couldn’t wish for a better surrogate father figure!

📙 What kind of subjects (of conversation, of discussion, in school or whatever) does your OC find interesting or engaging or that they can talk for hours about? What kind of stuff do they just find fun? School subject, she l o v e s potions even though she isn’t the BEST at it. She definitely helps Hagrid between classes as well because she loves care of magical creatures! She finds divination so interesting but it’s just not for her (and also Professor Trelawney properly creeps her out).

⭐ What is your OC afraid of? Any crippling phobias or some such? How do they act when scared and what helps them calm down? Does anyone ever find your OC scary? Why? Bit scared of Lucius Malfoy tbh because he’s a heartless prick. She doesn’t really have any crippling phobias - she has a pretty good life up until Cedric dies, and that’s the worst thing that could ever happen to her so she figures she doesn’t really have anything left to be afraid one. No one really finds her scary, but Ron knows to back off when she’s in a bad mood!

🍐 What is your OC’s mentality? Are they overall positive? Negative? A bit of both? Describe their thought patterns and reasoning behind their choice making! Hmm... It depends, really. She was a generally positive person (she was quite annoying), but obviously bad things happen in her mid-teens and she realises the world isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, bad things can and do happen, so she becomes a bit more... not negative, but realistic! Cass doesn’ really have a though process behind what she does - if she thinks something will make her or someone else happy, she’ll just do it!.

💙 What did your OC want to be when they grew up and why? Did they have any lifelong dreams or ambitions they never got to work on or are they currently working to achieve this dream? Has their life taken a very unexpected turn and put all these plans on hold for a while or have they given up on any dreams?  When she was a kid she wanted to grow up to be a healer! But as she grew up, she became really interested in animals and in herbology and she wanted to work for the ministry doing something along those lines. Her life 100% takes an unexpected turn - she never thought she would become romantically involved with Draco Malfoy. She hasn’t really given up any dreams, they’ve just changed and evolved as she’s grown up. She makes new dreams when she realises she wants Draco to be a part of her life.

🔮 Star gazing or cloud watching? Hand-holding or snuggles? Early mornings or late nights? Star gazing definitely. Both, but she would rather have snuggled (in private, of course). Deffo late nights - she is usually one of the last people in the common room, the fire almost out with her nose buried in a book.

🎀 Do they wear a specific accessory with a special meaning behind it? What is their usual fashion sense like? What do they wear when they want to be comfortable and what do they wear when they’re going to a fancy party? Or do they just not care?  It’s not an accessory but in her fifth year, she wears Cedric’s school sweater a lot, as a way to keep him with her, and she keeps tie around one of the posts on her bed.  She just wears whatever she’s comfortable in, she’s not too fussed about the latest ~fashions or looking perfect. Give her jeans, a tshirt and a hoody, and she’s good to go.

#cassandra diggory #fic: salvation #oc asks #sgtbuckyybarnes #answered

[aromoji]

So I’m finally getting around to do that aspec Q & A that @ace-and-aro-wlw-positivity posted, and I have quite a few aspec ocs so this could get rather lengthy but here we go

1. What was your inspiration for your character(s)? Are they modeled on yourself, a person that you know, or a character that’s already been established?

My first aspec oc, Abby Scott, was based on myself when I thought I was a biromantic ace girl. So she takes a lot after me. 

Theo Yamada, on the other hand, was a completely new character. I don’t exactly remember why I made him alloarospec, and I’ve been flipping from one arospec identity to the other, but no matter what he always remained alloaro. 

Mina Nicholson was my first character that I had predetermined to be alloaro from the start. She’s based on an old tumblr post about some super hero series idea called “Aces and Arrows.” I obviously didn’t make Mina into some superhero, but her guitar skills make her come pretty close :D. 

Brittany Olajobi is also based on an old tumblr post. Remember the “All or Nothing” idea thing that was floating around here?(Yes, I’m aware it turned into a scam, but I thought the premise was cute). Since no one actually made anything out of that I decided to make the characters my own. The asexual and pansexual girls were roomates....but also girlfriends. That idea kinda evolved into one of my newer series called “Play the Rainbow”, but that’s gonna take a while to explain.

Queenie Brooks...is based on a crude caricature someone made of an ace person (the “artist” has probably never talked to an ace person outside of tumblr but whatever), so I took that character and fleshed her out. She’s an aroace trans girl who’s evry big in activist circles, especialy the sex worker industry

2. How much, if any, has your character(s) changed since they were first created? What caused this change?

Abby and Brittany haven’t changed much besides in their appearance, Queenie and Mina underwent drastic appearance changes since they were created, and Theo’s kinda been going back and forth on the aromantic spectrum,  from strictly aro to demiromantic to aroflux. I’ve finally settled one greyromantic, which coinicdentially is what I identify as.

4. Do you intend on publishing your story one day? Why, or why not?

Probably not. I’m closeted in real life and likely to stay that way as long as I’m financially dependent on my parents.

7. Time to get serious for a bit. There’s been heavy debate on having non-human characters identify as ace, aro, non-binary, etc., but never actual humans. As someone who’s aspec, how would you explain to someone who’s allo why this can be and is seen as hurtful?

Ace and Aro people have been seen as inhuman and robotic for not feeling attraction, especially not in the same way that people who aren’t aro or ace do. Please reconsider making that animal/robot/alien oc aspec unless all or most of your characters aren’t human as well.

8. It’s a sad reality that many stories in mainstream media don’t have characters that are aspec, not to mention without resorting to harmful stereotypes. Besides there being nothing wrong with IDing as aspec, why did you choose to have your character ID as such? What would you tell other authors who’re interested in writing characters that are aspec, but are afraid of offending the community?

I make my characters aspec because. I’m aspec. Also there aren’t a lot of aspec representation (the little we get lol) that isn’t white or cis or yes, heteromantic./heterosexual. Considering the fact that I’m none of those things, all of my aspec ocs are poc like me, some even trans as well. To authours who want to write aspec characters but don’t want to offend the community, PLEASE ask around. Ask more than one person of that specific demographic. Their opinion should not be the only one that shapes yours! Also, if you’re writing an alloaro character, don’t ask someone who’s alloace or aroace. Similarly, don’t ask an alloaro person about writing alloace/aroace characters. Aspec people are not a monolith, our experiences are not the same

9. If you’re comfortable with sharing, what is your characters’ identity? Do they use any microlabels? Does theirs reflect your own?

Abby is a biromantic ace, Theo is a greyromantic bisexual, Mina is an alloaro bisexual, Brit is an ace lesbian, and Queenie is an oriented aroace trans woman.

11. Why do you think that not just representation is important, but GOOD representation? Can you offer any examples?

Fiction affects reality. Therefore, how people see us in the media affects how they see us in real life.

14. What’s a brief biography of your character? Is their history, personality, and/or looks similar to your own?

Uh I don’t necessarily have biographies for them but I have an oc carrd with their details

15. What are the themes of your story? Is it a lighthearted adventure, or are we talking deep, ocean-sized levels of angst? Why, or why not, did you choose them?

It’s a mix of light hearted fun and lots of angst. But everyone (who deserves it) gets a happy ending so it’s all good.

16. How long have you been writing? Has your style changed from when you first began to now? What are some tips you’d give to those who’re interested in writing a story of their own, be it professionally or as a hobby?

I’ve been writing since I was 8. I once won an honorable mention in a writing competition in the third grade believe it or not lol. My writing has definetely changed a lot, and that’s partially thanks to my English teachers I had along the way. My advice to people interested in writing a story on their own is to invest in a laptop/notebook and find time to write. Any time at all.

17. What’s your process for writing? Do you plan your story out first, write whatever you want then edit later, or both? How might this help others?

Planning? Ha! I write as I go. Sometimes I go back and edit entire scenes before publishing tho.

18. Your book’s become quite popular, easily reaching the New York Times Bookseller list, and now, you’ve been picked to lead a writing workshop. It goes swimmingly, and afterward, someone comes and tells you that your book not only inspired them to write a story of their own, but also helped them discover and accept their identity. What’s your reaction?

I’m...not good with compliments.

20. Just for fun, write down a paragraph of your most recent writing. It can be an action-packed scene, some witty dialogue, or a colorful description that you really enjoyed. (Be sure to properly tag any possible triggers!)

Here’s what I’ve started working on:

Theo smooths out the wrinkles on his blue uniform, giving himself a once over in the mirror. All his belongings of 5 long years were packed and ready to board on the ship the  higher-ups would issue to him He turns and takes down one last poster and rolls it up, placing it in his duffel bag. Perfect. Now all he had to do was go through the graduation ceremony and he’d get his first assignment. His hard work being at the top of his class was finally going to pay off.

“Heyyyy, my older twin’s looking sharp tonight!” Trent exclaims, leaning in the doorway with his own uniform in red. He whirls into the room, flopping on the now barren bed. “Ahh, this bed has so many memories. Come on, sit with me!”

“Trent, the ceremony’s so soon.”

“Theooooo,” he pouts. “This may be the last time we see this room, because we’ll be in space!”

He wiggles his fingers in Theo’s face for dramatic effect. The older twin chuckles, taking a seat on the bed.

“Let’s see,” Theo muses, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “I remember when we first got here. We were 10 years old, tiny, adorable and innocent little creatures. You were so terrified because they had put us in separate rooms.”

“I was not!” Trent argues. “It was just…a bit of a shock considering I always slept with someone else in my room instead of…all by myself.’

“Whatever. You crept into my room in the middle of the night, poked me awake and gave me the whole puppy-dog-eyes-and-quivering-bottom-lip routine to get me to beg me to let you sleep in my bed that night.”

“And you pretty much told me to go play in traffic,” he laughs. “And I still got in your bed anyway and slept there the whole night!”

“And you kept doing it until you turned 12!” Theo finishes with a playful shove.

#✨.txt #text #aro awareness week #aro #acetag #long post #arospec awareness week

[monkey-network]

Good Stuff ~ Stray Thoughts: School Raze {MLP}

*sigh* Well, it’s the end of season 8 *loading gun shells* had some bad episodes here and there but it wasn’t that bad. But now, it’ll be a bit sad that I gotta say goodbye for now... *cocks shotgun* Roll it.

That’s Close enough

PART 1 (Tartarus’ Door)

Derpy! Aww, it’s a wonderful thing that you’re the first pony we get to see. Man I can’t see this going wrong in any-- *sees Cozy Glow*....I think I’m gonna hurl.

Ooh, I like the new rainbow haired background pony. Having some muted colors for her mane with a nice pink for the body. Easy, yet unique pony design I’ve seen in a bit

“Friendship Assistant“ Short for “Pastor’s kiss ass”

Silver Stream likes crosswords? That... doesn’t feel out of place for her

Wait, how do you keep saddle bags on as a pegasus? Wouldn’t they be blocking their... ability to fly?

Rainbow’s loyalty is as bold as how she dresses in style

One look into Cloudsdale and I’m seeing fake news. Storm clouds can’t survive in altitudes higher than the regular clouds. We gotta drain the swamp in the Rainbow factory

Glim Glam being the rock as usual. Though it begs the question, if you’re standing on something and you don’t have wings, will you still fall?

Not scared to immediately being proven wrong. That’s the warrior’s way

And why is Yona falling to her death the scene before the intro? Not COOL, show! 

Also, it’s a wonder, right? A character’s gonna die? Turn on the happy music.

How Ocellus was able to catch the admittedly heavy yak is something else

Man, characters can get over trauma pretty easy

OH NO, magical erectile dysfunction

Nothing to worry about? One (best yak) nearly became a pancake, Twilight, you taking this pretty easily.

I agree with Glimmy’s memeface, that was uncalled for, Twily

Snap, Ms. Glimmer

Yeesh, Rarity, you did that to yourself

Tirek? My my, best villain making a return?

That was gross. Thank you, Spike.

Why do potions need magic? It’s juice mixing.

3 DAYS?!

Wait, why do the others wanna go? Why not-- nevermind, it’s safe

Friends, pack your bags. We’re going to hell!

Surviving Discord’s shit is a bar you really gotta cross to challenge anything

Cozy, go dry yourself off

I smell a sabotage, and I’m glad the student 6 pick up on the child’s bullshit

That was casually speciest, Cozy

YONAAAAA! Standing up for her fellow dragon! Though, I gotta agree with Gallus. Who protests with homework?!

Cozy, I had enough of your shit

Huh, they’re already regretting the trip to hell. Wimps

So is the school an all day school? There’s a night school, so what?

Head Mare? More like Head Ass

Wow, ponies can be a-holes

Uhhh, Darla, why’d you leave the villainy open?

That was certainly a convenient yet useless artifact

Ah good, Pinkie was gonna sacrifice herself for the greater good

Okay, I want a book cataloging these animals of Tartarus

OH NO, racist allegory pony is back!

Cerberus!! Oh, I always wanted one.

TIREK! Good seeing ya

rerorerorerorerorerorerorerorerorerorero~

Oh, you didn’t think of this, did you ponies?

Come on, I’ve seen Kiwi farms eavesdrop better

Actually, nature would’ve killed off ponies if the other animals had their way

They’re college students, racist allegory pony, what the fuck would they want with magic?

Glad you’re standing for your fellow pony, Sandbar,

We got a “What in Tarnation?” folks. Giddyup

Wait, what revenge? You literally have no part in this.

Also, Pen pals with a demon. I think there’s an anime for that.

Cozy Glow was pen pals with Tirek? Gasp.

My god, Glim Glam! Wait, would that mean she’s gonna die in that orb or absorb the magic of that orb?

What realm? Why not just absorb the magic? You’ll practically have the infinity stones’ power in your hooves

Also, I like the 3D scene they did here. That is the best scene of this show period

“Friendship is Power“ Well... I mean-- you’re not THAT wrong.

For a future Empress of Friendship, you sure picked the right tape for making that crown, you cheeky ass clod

TO BE CONTINUED (after a commercial break)

Part 2 (Infinpony Crisis)

I just love when all shit is about to go down, then HAPPY INTRO TIME

Come on, Spike, this is no time for semantics

So that was the plan? Draining the magic to give Tirek some company? There’s GOT to be more to this plan.

Good job, Rainbow, you did them proud

Twilight, I know it’s not gonna work, but I am intrigued

We need to build a wall around Equestria, and make the dragons pay for it

Well you have a point, racist allegory pony, Twilight has caught the idiot flu over this season

JESUS CHRIST, it’s the hands of the damned!

You just now remembered your other friends, Sandbar?

Nice hostage room. Oh yeah, have ya’ll tried the window?

Also, have I mentioned Yona being the best? (MANY TIMES) Well it’s true. I’m glad she has undoubted trust in her friends

Okay, you get a brownie point for that line, Mayo pony

Also, nice crowbar

Also, 3rd best moment from Yona. Though I do not ship her and Sandbar. Gross.

Honestly, racist allegory pony is the most annoying part of this story

Alright, Cozy. I’ll cut ya some slack for shutting him down like that.

Oh no, they’re gonna throw him in the hot box

I’m glad ponies are easily impressionable enough to agree to chain bondage

This little girl has a fucking skull. What?

So... let me get this straight Cozy, you cotton candy headed nut, your plan is to run the school to get more friends. More friends equaling more power over Equestria, I suppose by having influence over the public for being such a kiss ass? When there is a goddamn castle right next to the school with everything a pony might want, need, in taking over the world. In addition to dropping all magic to another realm to keep the mane six in hell with Tirek, because you can’t think of owning the magic yourself?

Holy shit, this is the most unnecessarily convoluted plan in the history of the show. I thought Starlight did worse, but no.

Gloating wouldn’t ease that L of yours, racist allegory pony

Yona, never change. You are a highlight of this episode

Also, consider yourself redeemed, racist allegory pony

Good job, Tirek. You now have prison mates.

Wow, who knew Pinkie was more of a villain than a literal demon?

Okay, that was funny. You get another point, Cozy

*shudders* Finals.

Wait, how did you get all those pony down there, Darla?

Open the door, get on the floor, pony up on the dinosaur

How would they know it was the third day?

Tell her off, Gallus! Second best character

As much as this is quite a climax, I am not liking those ghost hands

The tree of EHARMONY, back at it again with the deus ex machina!

Okay, so Yona is honesty, Silver’s laughter, Smolder’s loyalty, Gallus is generosity, Sandbar’s kindness, and Ocellus is magic? Makes a bit of sense.

And that’s why Yona is best. She’s everything Applejack isn’t

Everybody duck, it’s explosion time

By the tools of Equestria... WE HAVE THE POWERRRRRRRR!

Pretty lights

Haha, and Tirek failed

Come on, Glim Glam, nothing wrong with a Yak hug

Ah, Cozy *rubs hands* you survived.

Alright, real talk.... Cozy, you fucking clod. Not only were you never convincing, not only was your plan remarkably crazier than Starlight’s of all ponies, not only was your motive behind this the 3rd dumbest I’ve ever heard from this series, but my god, you have failed to realize that what you tried to do was never gonna work in any fashion soon as the public thought for themselves. At least Starlight had her magic and charm to fool her town before the jig was up, YOU relied on sheer ignorance to hopefully get whatever it was you wanted. *chuckles* You make Frank Underwood look like a saint, you curly headed nutcase.

And you think you were gonna make friends somewhere else after you literally threatened to wipe away all magic? Bravo, show, you made me chortle harder than I imagined.

“Oh no, my tiny wings can’t outrun the law”

Well you say that, Neighsay, but Twilight really isn’t suitable for running a school. I think the season proved that pretty well.

It’s only been one semest- fuck off, show, it should’ve been well over a semester!

Though this might mean more student 6, which means more Yona. I’m down with that!! *BANG BANG*

What does he think friendship is, a currency? Who wrote this?

Thank you, CMC, you did your part

“Oh my god, they put a child in hell?“ Well, she did try to erase magic, as well as send 7 characters to their potential deaths and trap 7 more characters in the same hell. Compared to the other villains we’ve had, she genuinely pulled worse. So really, I’m indifferent about it, especially when I don’t... like her or care about her.

But she’ll be back?! *deep groan* I guess with Yona being around, there has to be an equivalent exchange somewhat. Plus we don’t know her origins so I guess it’s reasonable. Bad way to end the season, show.

But you know what? This was all fun. Won’t deny that.

So, woof, moral of the story? Well, just because you have friends, doesn’t mean you’ll have power because of it. The same way having followers, subscribers, whatever, doesn’t mean you're a permanent influence over them. Real friends give you power, power that you can use for the good of yourself as well as others. Your real friends give you the wholeness that you might’ve never been able to discover yourself, whether it be with wisdom or with laughter. “The more the merrier” is not a wrong idea to have, but quality should come before quantity, if that make sense.

MY LITTLE PONY: Friendship is Strengthening Your Pact

~See Ya Next Season~

#school raze #my little pony #mlp #friendship is magic #mlp season 8 #cartoons #thoughts #Good Stuff #great finale

[auncyen]

Parts 1 & 2 of the Hanahaki prompt story can be found here. I probably need a title for this at some point.

Before that day, Ringabel had thought he would have had a knack for sensing when danger was afoot, just as he had a talent for piloting an airship. Part of having a rogue's charm. Apparently that idea had been completely wrong, and now the ship he'd been growing to like had been brought low and constrained to the inner sea, unable to help them reach Florem, because he had completely missed Edea's charming friend making a visit. The dark knight Alternis Dim had struck Tiz by surprise and broken the skystone to ground their group. "Really! You'd think with how long they've known each other, he would at least hear her out before breaking ships and punching people," Ringabel complained. "It would have been nice," Tiz agreed. Now that he'd had time to recover from the punch, his color was back to normal, though he winced every once in a while as they trudged toward the miasma woods that separated Ancheim from Florem. "He thought we'd kidnapped her though. And once she told him she was with us of her own free will, he really lost it." "Alternis has always been like that," Edea said blandly. "He tries to act stoic, but he couldn't keep a cool head unless he was risking frostbite." "And you have a passion to match," Ringabel mused. "I must have missed quite the row." "Excuse me?" Ringabel quickly raised his hands in surrender, though he didn't miss the slightest smile on Agnès' face, and he was a bit suspicious of how conveniently Tiz had to cough into his hand at that moment. "There's nothing wrong with having passion, is there? You were defending Tiz and Agnès!" She stared him down longer than he would have liked, but after a few seconds, Edea accepted it, turning back around and leading the way. "At any rate, I hope that's the last we see of him. But Alternis seemed to have other ideas, and he's known for his tenacity. I'd keep an eye out for him." "...To be honest, I'm still surprised you two are childhood friends," Agnès said quietly. "Some of the things he said were...quite harsh." Edea offered only a half-hearted shrug. Ringabel frowned. Just what had Alternis said? "Of course, he's only angry at me for how this might reflect on my parents. I couldn't have expected anything else from him." "Not concerned for your safety?" Ringabel said. "I would expect that, given his feelings." "What feelings? I told you, he got his flowers removed." "What? But, what does that have to do with..." Ringabel completely stopped in his confusion. Alternis loved Edea. He'd had Love's Languish, Hanahaki disease because she didn't reciprocate, and he was only cured because he'd had the flowers removed. Wasn't that what Edea had told him before? But nothing about that meant the man should no longer love her. Tiz made a small 'hm?', slowing in his steps as he looked between Ringabel and Edea, but it took the girl a couple more seconds before she stopped walking ahead. "Oh, I see...I suppose I didn't really explain well enough before. It's fairly common knowledge in Eternia." Ringabel couldn't see her face, as she remained facing forward, but he saw how her head turned down, her hand resting on her chest. "The surgery is to remove the flowers, but because they're the manifestation of emotions, the person loses those feelings too. It's apparently typical for people to be indifferent toward the former object of their affection afterward. Though, in Alternis' case..." She didn't seem to want to finish that thought, and Ringabel was too upset to indulge in curiosity and ask. "That's a very critical detail," he said, his throat tight. "It would be one thing if it simply cured people, but when it deprives them of their feelings--" "Of one feeling! One feeling that was making them miserable!" Now Edea did turn around, stomping her foot as she did. "You are suffering for some girl you don't even remember, don't tell me that's reasonable!" "It's you, I've told you, I know it is!" "You have no memory." "I do still remember that I have amnesia, funny enough. I may have no memory, but I have my heart, and I know, it's you." "And I don't love you." In the corner of one eye, Ringabel could see Tiz and Agnès having a small exchange between themselves and putting a few extra feet between the two of them and Edea and him. He supposed this was starting to seem like a fight, and he tried taking a step back himself, despite the pressure he felt building up in his chest. "I know you don't. But I have hopes you may in the future, and even if--" Edea was just not having it. "Ohh, no. No. I've heard the 'even if you don't' before, and it's not true. You have hopes. That's all. And I can tell you right now, I don't love you, I am not going to fall in love with you, and if you want to stop coughing up flowers, your choices are either moving on of your own accord, or getting the surgery to help you move on. It's those two. Your pick. Because I don't feel particularly attracted to shamelessly flirty men who lack common sense--" Ringabel took a deep breath. Or tried to. Between the thickness of the miasma in the air and the flowers tangling in his lungs, his breath caught, and Agnès looked sharply at him before stepping forward. "Edea, you two may have this discussion once we are clear of the woods, but not a moment sooner. Ringabel, ...save your breath and take care of yourself." "We've only restored one crystal's light!" Airy chimed in from Agnès' shoulder. "We don't have time for silly arguments!" Edea huffed an aggrieved sigh. "Even if Alternis hates me now, at least he can argue with me without coughing up flowers," she muttered. She'd clearly caught his trouble too, and Ringabel turned away from the others with shame burning his cheeks as he waited for his breathing to calm. She'd gotten him good with that unflattering description, and ...if she really saw him that way, perhaps it would be better to get the flowers removed, with a chunk of his heart besides. But to be indifferent to her? To hate her? The way she'd touched her chest while talking about the surgery's side effect...even though she played it off as a necessary consequence, he was fairly sure it bothered her that her childhood friend no longer liked her, even if he was in better health now. But he had to leave the matter alone for now. She was upset, and so was he. Only Tiz chattered, trying to restore a better mood in the group, and even his efforts petered out after they went nowhere. The group made the rest of their way through the miasma woods in relative silence.

#bravely default #ringabel #edea lee #one-sided rindea #READ MORE PLS WORK #also if ch 4 of this doesn't end IN CH 4 #pls end me #hanahaki

[sp4c3-0ddity]

so this short fic didn’t exist this morning, but then i read through @kostbarereh‘s plance headcanons, and the one about Pidge planning to confess to Lance using a game reminded me of Michael confessing to Mia in the second The Princess Diaries book (not the movie so much), and this isn’t a The Princess Diaries AU (maybe someone should write one) but hopefully it’s cute, short, and sweet <3

~2500 words, college AU. enjoy!!

The pre-finals extracurricular fair is even more crowded than Lance expected, and the crowds don’t cut in front of him like they usually seem to. Students cluster to some booths more than others, especially ones for popular clubs or that pass out free food and water bottles, but Hunk doesn’t head for any of those.

“Where are we going?” Lance asks him. He idly waves at someone he recognizes, but most of his attention is focused on Hunk and their mysterious destination.

“The robotics club booth,” Hunk says, resting a hand on his back and nudging him forward. “I have a bake sale for a different club, but Pidge wanted to show you something, so I promised to take you to her.”

Lance blinks in surprise, then smiles. “Ooh, what’s she got for me?”

Hunk grins. “Oh, wouldn’t you like to know,” he says.

“I would,” Lance whines. “That’s why I asked!”

“To be fair,” Hunk says with an elbow nudging his side, “I only know the barest details, but I’m pretty sure you’ll like it.”

Lance raises an eyebrow at him. “How about a hint then?”

“No,” Hunk denies immediately. “Besides, you’ll find out soon enough.”

Lance rolls his eyes and plays with the zipper on his jacket, mind considering the possibilities. The very idea that Pidge would have a surprise – a present, a gift, something worth keeping a secret – excites him, makes his heart pound faster and his imagination race. He barely sees the faces of anyone in the crowd, impatient for him and Hunk to reach their destination.

Wildly, his thoughts jump to the idea of Pidge kissing him as a surprise, but he dismisses that quickly. Pidge isn’t interested in him, and even if she is, why would she tell Hunk about something like that?

“You catch a bit of sunburn, Lance?” Hunk asks, interrupting his thoughts and catching his attention.

“Huh?” Lance says, quite eloquently in his opinion considering where his mind still lingers. “No, I don’t really—” He scowls when he finally notices Hunk’s knowing smirk. “Oh, you bastard.”

Hunk laughs, but then he waves to someone in the distance, his arm poking out over the heads of the surrounding students. And when the crowd parts around them – conveniently, fatefully – Pidge waves back from her spot at a table positioned in the shade of a tree blooming with pale purple flowers.

Pidge smiles, and Lance thinks he can spot a dimple even from here, so she must be happy to see him – or Hunk, at least. Her eyes are bright and wide, her hair tied up in a bun with loose strands escaping and ringing her face, and despite the unseasonably warm early spring day she wears her favorite green and white sweater.

Whatever she wants to show Lance, it can’t be bad…at least not for her.

“All right, there you go,” Hunk says, shoving Lance forward with all the gentleness of someone smacking a horse’s rump to spur it on.

Lance rights himself after a brief stumble, laughing to dispel some of his embarrassment when Pidge meets his eyes, but he shoots a glare over his shoulder at Hunk, who’s already leaving for his bake sale. But he puts that mishap out of his mind, straightens his shoulder, and plows on towards Pidge.

“Hello,” he says when he stands across the table from her. The robot still in its prototype stage might be worthy of admiration if Pidge herself isn’t here, but she takes all of Lance’s attention without even trying.

“Hi,” she says. Something in her smile falters, just a little tremulous and a touch nervous, like she doesn’t know what to say.

Good thing Lance knows how to keep a conversation flowing. He grins reassuringly at her and says, “A little birdie told me you have something to show me?”

“Oh, straight to the point?” Pidge says.

“Hey, I love surprises,” Lance tells her, “and one coming from you? That makes it extra special.”

Pidge clears her throat and averts her eyes. “Right, if you say so.”

“I do say so!” Lance says. Then he squints at her. “Are you okay, Pidge? You don’t have to be nervous; I’m sure I’ll love whatever it is.”

“It’s not—it’s not that,” Pidge tells him quickly, waving her hands dismissively. “It’s a…it’s a fun surprise. I-I designed a game – a pretty simple game, really, I didn’t have as much time as I wanted to work on it – and I wanted you to be the first to play it.” She brightens a bit then, like she always does when she talks about her work or video games – and this is something of both, so she must be enjoying bragging. “If you’re interested, anyway.” She points to her laptop, which Lance now notices sits at the corner of the table in prime shade in all its stickered glory.

“I would be honored,” Lance says, and he is. He can sense this is something personal to Pidge, something different than the hangman program she wrote in their very first semester, an assignment for class that she had Lance and Hunk test out every time she edited the code.

“Good!” Pidge says, but for some reason his reassurance doesn’t seem to soothe whatever anxiety she has. In fact, she looks even more anxious; he even spots her wiping her hands on her pants before she starts setting up the game. “Come around.”

Lance walks around the table so he stands right next to her while she opens the appropriate file. He smiles at the desktop background – a funny reminder of how sentimental Pidge is, as it’s a photo of her with her family at a rocket launch for a project her father was heavily involved in bringing to life – until Pidge nudges him towards an empty chair, small hands gently pushing his side.

“So, uh, how do I play?” Lance asks, hands hovering, uncertain, over the keyboard.

“The game will prompt you,” Pidge explains. She points at the screen, to the program’s – well, she definitely wasn’t kidding when she said it would be simple – input line. “It’ll give you the options and you’ll tell it what you want, and the story.”

“Ooh,” Lance says, whistling admiringly. “You wrote a story for this?” He glanced sideways at her, at the tiny bump on the bridge of her nose and what looks like a blush high on her cheeks.

“Not really,” she admits, toying with a strand of her hair. “It’s a very straightforward plot, and—look, just play the game, Lance.” She claps him on the shoulder, apparently impatient for him to get started.

“Okay,” Lance says. He turns back to the screen, trying not to get distracted by Pidge standing right next to him.

The screen prompts, Press enter to begin.

Lance presses the ‘enter’ key, and the program outputs, Welcome to the dungeon. Enter what color you would like to play. When he side-eyes Pidge, she smiles and says, “Pick any color in the rainbow.”

“So I can’t enter teal?”

“You can, but it’ll come back and tell you to pick another color.” Her smile turns into a smirk as she admits, “I know you just love confounding my programs.”

Lance chuckles and says, “Fine, just this once I’ll go easy on it.” He types ‘blue’ into the program.

You are the blue warrior. Please enter your name.

“Uh…my actual name?”

“You’ll ruin it if you don’t.”

Lance turns his head so fast towards her that he sees stars. “Ruin what?”

“You’ll see if you play the damn game,” Pidge says, pointing at the screen.

Lance rolls his eyes and types his name, even checking he didn’t accidentally misspell it before he presses ‘enter’.

Blue Warrior Lance approaches the castle. You must rescue the fair maiden trapped in the dungeon.

“Oh, what did this fair maiden do to get trapped in a dungeon?”

“Just keep playing,” Pidge grumbles.

Lance rolls his eyes but watches text appear on the screen.  Blue Warrior Lance, are you brave enough to enter the castle? Enter y/n.

“Of course I am,” he mutters under his breath, entering ‘y’.

You reach a row of three doors. One leads up, another leads back out, and the third leads down into the dungeon. Enter a number between 1 and 3 to select a door.

“Which one is the dungeon?”

To his surprise, Pidge tells him, “The second.”

Lance types ‘2’, and the screen resumes, You walk downstairs but encounter a sphynx. They insist the fair maiden is fairly – Lance snorts at the pun – imprisoned for theft. Enter 1 to turn around, or enter 2 to hear the sphynx’s riddle and proceed.

“I can’t solve a riddle!” Lance screeches. “I’m not as smart as you, Pidge.”

Pidge pats his head, almost condescendingly. “Don’t worry,” she says. “It’s not that bad.”

“So I’m guessing I should keep going then?”

“If that’s what you want,” Pidge says. If Lance doesn’t know any better, he would think she sounds coy.

Lance types ‘2’ for the second time in a row, spurred on by Pidge’s challenge.

The screen reads, Look to the girl standing at your right. Lance raises an eyebrow at the computer, then turns his head towards Pidge.

“It didn’t mean literally,” she tells him, crossing her arms.

“Ooookay,” Lance says, rolling his eyes and returning his attention back to the screen, which now displays a question that makes his jaw drop and face flame.

Lance, will you go out with Pidge? Enter y/n.

“Uh, Pidge,” Lance squeaks.

“J-just answer the question on the screen,” Pidge almost whispers. If he peers at her from the corner of his eyes, he can see the hand she presses to her face in embarrassment.

“Are you planning on having other people play this game?” Lance wonders.

Pidge bites her lip and says, “It’s meant only for you.”

Lance types ‘y’ and presses ‘enter’ without hesitation.

The screen reads, The sphynx transforms into the fair maiden, imprisoned for stealing the Blue Warrior Lance’s heart—

“True,” Lance says, nodding in approval at the screen.

“Dear God, Lance, just read what’s on the screen!”

Lance grins – though his face is still way too warm to be explained by the weather – and reads where he left off, —and cursed for falling in love.

“Uh…that bad, huh?” He can’t look at her, at least not yet.

“I…know you like romantic stuff,” Pidge says, gesturing at her computer’s screen, “so I tried. It’s memorable at least, right?”

Her voice is uncertain enough that Lance turns and meets her eyes, and he smiles. “I think it’s great,” he says. “I didn’t think you had that much romance in you, though, at least not for me.”

Pidge reaches out, soft fingers resting on his cheek, and snorts, “Please, it’s just for you, like I said.”

“What would’ve happened if I said no?”

Pidge raises an eyebrow at him. “Do you really think I hate myself enough to have done this if I thought you would?”

Lance stares at her for a good few seconds, taking in her half-amused, blushing face, but then he shoots up and yells, “Hunk!”

Pidge laughs, the sound so happy and delightful in Lance’s ears that he hugs her without a second thought, wrapping her in his arms and holding her close. Hugging Pidge isn’t a rare occurrence, exactly, but this time it’s different, her fingers clutching the back of his jacket and every point of contact between them warm and charged. He plays with a few strands of her hair, loosed from her bun, and her nose pokes his chest.

“So, uh…did you have a date planned too?” Lance poses carefully. “Or just that?”

“Finish the game to find out,” Pidge says, peering up at him.

“Wait, there’s more?”

Pidge hums and disentangles their limbs, pushing him back into the chair. This time it’s an effort to pay attention to the computer screen rather than focus it all on her, but when she notices him staring she presses two fingers into his jaw and nudges him.

Lance rolls his eyes and reads aloud, “It is time for Blue Warrior Lance and the fair maiden to escape the dungeon, but a dragon stands in your path. Piece of cake,” he says as an aside to Pidge.

Enter ‘1’ for a sword attack, ‘2’ for a bow and arrow, ‘3’ for a cannon – “I have a cannon?” – ‘4’ to sneak around the dragon, or combine two options.

“Hmm.” Lance glances at Pidge. “What do you think?”

“Well, I think it’s silly to attack a dragon head-on,” she tells him, “but you’re leading the escape so it’s up to you.”

“Huh.” Lance types ‘24’ and presses enter, and then the story reads, You distract the dragon with a shot at its eye while you and the fair maiden escape and emerge from the castle.

The night is clear and full of stars. The fair maiden gives you the option of a prize in gratitude.

“Oh, really?” Lance says with a smirk. “What do I get?”

Enter ‘1’ for a date to the planetarium – “I like my options so far!” – enter ‘2’ for a game night at the student center – “Uh, why can’t we do both?” – or enter ‘3’ for a kiss.

“Seriously, why can’t I have all of them?” Lance whines.

Pidge’s lips stretch into a smirk of her own…right before she presses a kiss to the corner of Lance’s mouth and making his brain screech to a halt. When she pulls back – too soon, in his opinion – she quips, “Maybe you will, if you were more patient.”

Lance enters ‘1’ but still grumbles, “I thought you like me.”

“I do, but that doesn’t mean I’ll let you get away with being an ass. So…” Pidge taps her fingers on the table, leaning towards the screen to see what he entered. “You want to go watch that new show about the New Horizons mission to Pluto then?”

“Hey, sounds like a good first date to me,” Lance tells her with a smile, and he snakes an arm around her waist, tugging her a little closer.

The screen then outputs, And then Lance and Pidge lived happily ever after, or they will after they graduate from college.

“Yeah, I kind of wish I’d taken that part out,” Pidge admits, an embarrassed hand on her face.

“Why?” Lance says, waving one hand at the screen. “It may be corny, but it’s perfect for a fairy tale. Also…can I have the file?”

“Why?” Pidge asks.

“Because it’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten?”

Pidge smiles and nods, and she says, “You have to have the right system installed to run it, but yeah, I can give you a copy.”

“Hey, Pidge, I think you just gave me my new favorite video game.”

Pidge snorts and, to his delighted surprise, sits sideways in his lap, her arms balancing on his shoulders. “It was really easy to write the program because it’s so simple.” Then she frowns and confesses, “The story was the hard part, because everything I wanted to do originally would’ve made it too complicated and I didn’t have time for graphics.”

Lance raises an eyebrow at her. “Pidge, no one has ever asked me out like this.”

“Has anyone ever asked you out?”

His jaw drops. “Did you just—”

Pidge buries her face in his shoulder and mutters, “I’m sorry, that just sort of…slipped out.”

“I forgive you,” Lance says, rubbing a hand up and down her back. “But…huh, now that I think about it, you’re right. You’re the first. Guess that makes you special.”

Pidge looks up and presses her forehead against his. “Damn right, I’m special.”

This time Lance kisses her, something a little more than when she surprised him, but before they can get too into it, someone nearby audibly clears their throat, and Lance remembers they’re still in public.

They break apart, Pidge’s face likely as red as his, and he glances up to see Hunk standing across the table, ostensibly examining the robot on display. “So I take it your plan succeeded, Pidge?” he wonders.

“Yeah,” Pidge says with a smile. “Thanks for laying the trap for me.”

“Well, congratulations, I guess,” Hunk says, offering them a smile of his own, but before either of them can thank him or express any gratitude, he frowns, crosses his arms, and says, “Just remember that I have a weak stomach, okay?”

Lance laughs, despite the sudden rush of embarrassment, while Pidge once more presses her face against his shoulder and groans.

#plance #pidgance #lidge #flirtyrobot #i dunno why i've been struggling so much lately #i think i'm on the verge of writer's block =/ #but hopefully this puts a smile on someone's face #voltron #reem writes fic #THAT ISN'T FOR A PROMPT

[blackgwenstacy]

‘tis the season (to be merry)

[shows up five days late with starbucks and a gay fanfic] hey y’all merry chrysler

Happy holidays to @connorstolll !! I was your secret santa for @pjosecretsanta2k17. I hope you enjoy your Solangelo college au <3

word count: 2,200

summary: Will Solace is a little in love with his roommate, and holiday party shenanigans only confirm that he’s a lot in love with his roommate.

warnings: alcohol use, a few f-bombs, and STEM major roasts

There’s a certain feeling one gets after taking their very last final of the semester. A freeing feeling, like the entire world has been lifted off their shoulders and each anxiety-ridden thought suddenly flees from their mind.

Will hasn’t felt this relieved since before the semester started. After those stressful weeks, he wants nothing more than to spend his break sleeping, eating, and binge watching Netflix.

And pining after his roommate. His dorky, adorable, oblivious ass roommate.

Will’s had somewhat of a crush on his college roommate, Nico di Angelo, for the past six months. They’ve roomed together for a year now, but it took some time for Will not to be intimidated by Nico’s dark features, brooding expression, and his infinite knowledge on the secrets of the universe.

Once Will had grown used to all of that, however, boy was he gone.

It’s not like Nico seemed to notice any difference in the way Will was acting toward him. It was quite ironic to Will, especially because Nico was the one who  loved to rip characters apart and analyze their every word and action. Watching any movie with Nico was one hell of a psychoanalysis.

Then again, Will could be a bit more. . . expressive about his affections. But it’s not like he was letting every opportunity to admit how he feels slip through his fingers, allowing himself to suffer in silence.

(That was exactly what he was doing.)

“Hey,” he calls out upon entering his dorm, stuffing his lanyard into his backpack and tossing it at the foot of his bed. As much as he’d like to sleep forever, he told Travis he would attend he and his brother’s party tonight, so he ought to get ready for that. 

“Hey,” Nico responds. He’s in bed, occupied with a rather thick looking book, an empty mug of coffee resting on the nightstand next to him. Will frowns, already knowing Nico was hardly going to pay him any attention, hyper focused on whatever literature he was studying. “How was the Physics exam?”

“Physiology. Anatomy and Physiology.”

“That’s not the same thing?”

“I’m just glad it’s over.” Will plops onto the stiff mattress of his dormitory bed, removing his boots and peeling off his socks. “I thought you were finished with assignments?”

Nico doesn’t look up from the book. “I am.”

“Then why are you reading—” Will gets up, crosses the short distance between their beds and bends over slightly to glance at the book cover, “—Canterbury Tales?”

Nico still doesn’t pay Will any mind, adjusting his thick-rimmed glasses. Will struggles to ignore how adorable Nico looks with them on. “I’m taking English Lit next semester— ”

“Oh my god.”

“Did you know J.K. Rowling got inspiration for the Tale of the Three Brothers from the Pardoner’s Tale?”

Will did not know that, and actually thinks it’s pretty cool, but he’s still in disbelief of the fact that Nico was still studying, even after all of his finals.

“Aren’t you tired of reading?”

“Me, the English major, tired of reading? Preposterous.”

“Don’t you want to do something fun?”

Nico drops the heavy book in his lap, taking on a defensive tone. “I think literature is very fun, thank you.”

“Okay,” says Will, “and action potentials are as great as Disney World to me, but even I want nothing to do with them after talking all those exams.”

“You, the STEM major, want nothing to do with action potentials?”

Will chokes back his laugh. He want’s Nico to take him seriously, his sarcasm be damned.

“Take a break, man.” 

Nico frowns, taking off his glasses, and Will tries not to look disappointed.

“I don’t know,” Nico sighs. He crawls across his bed and shoves Canterbury Tales into his overflowing bookshelf kept at the foot of it. “It feels weird. Like, I keep thinking there’s something I should be doing.”

“What you should be doing,” Will starts, “is rewarding yourself for surviving Hell Week.” He drops the bomb. “The Stolls are having a holiday party tonight. You should come with me.“

Nico looks the opposite of intrigued. “No, thanks.”

“Come on, Nico,” Will stresses, “You haven’t left the residence hall in two weeks. You’ve only left this dorm room to take your finals.”

“I think having to evacuate last week because Leo started a fire in the communal kitchen counts as me leaving the residence hall.”

Will rolls his eyes. He knows Nico doesn’t have much of a party personality, but some of Nico’s friends would be there. It would be good to catch up with them and get some human interaction.

“It’ll be crowded, and noisy,” Nico objects. “Did you know noise is one of life’s most common stressors?”

Will hums, and quips, “So is loneliness.”

Nico glares at him. “You know, when I decided not to request a different roommate next semester, it’s because I thought there wasn’t any way you could possibly get more irritating.”

Will ignores the jab. “Are you sure it’s not because you love me?”

Nico amusedly raises one of his eyebrows.

“Fine,” Will relents. “I’ll go by myself. Alone. Even though loneliness is one of life’s most common stressors—“

“You are the biggest Drama Queen,” says Nico.

“Says you.“

Nico rolls his eyes, standing up. “Fine, I’ll go. But not for long, I’m already mentally exhausted.”

“Okay, cool,” Will says calmly, though on the inside he was dancing on flowers and rainbows. He gathers up his toiletries and his towel. “We’d better shower. It starts at seven.”

“You better not use my fucking stall, Solace, I swear to god.”

Will doesn’t know what he was expecting when Nico agreed to go to the Stoll’s party with him. Perhaps he thought Nico would spend the whole time sitting quietly, keeping to himself and counting the minutes until it would be over. Maybe he thought the festive atmosphere would warm Nico’s heart like his smile did to Will’s cheeks, and he would confess his love to Will after the two shared a cliche kiss under the mistletoe.

Whatever he was expecting, it definitely wasn’t this.

“And since we’ve no place to goooo, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow,” Nico sings, or slurs rather, along with Dean Martin’s suave voice. His face falls. “I can’t believe Jon Snow died.”

“He came back,” Will reminds him.

Nico’s face lights up, and so does Will’s heart. “Woah, you’re right.”

They sit next to each other on a raggedy green sofa in the Stoll’s apartment. There’s music playing in the background, the playlist going back and forth between traditional Christmas songs and whatever’s on the Hot 100 this week. There’s a few dozen people that are here, most of them Will knew by association. They’ve only been here an hour and Nico’s on his third cup of eggnog.

“I’ve been thinking,“ Nico starts, “when I was a kid they made us pick grass and put it in a box under the tree for the camels to eat on Three Kings Day and when I was a kid I didn’t question it but now I’m not a kid and camels don’t eat grass. Wait—do they?”

Will isn’t sure if he’s amused or concerned by how many conjunctions Nico just used in one sentence. Nico has a conniption every time Will uses a comma in an unnecessary place when they text.

“—They live in the desert. There’s no grass in the desert. Wait—is there?”

Nico doesn’t indulge in alcohol very often. Not that Will has ever seen, at least. He wonders if he usually sings Christmas carols and talks about camels when he’s drunk.

He watches as Nico scowls and peers curiously into his red cup. “I think there’s something in this eggnog.”

“Yes. Rum. I told you that before you drank it.”

Nico’s eyebrows raise, far enough for his bangs to hide them, blinks with wide eyes. “Oh shit.”

Then he shrugs, and downs the rest of the spiked drink. Unbelievable.

Will snorts. “You’re going to regret that.”

Nico grins mischievously. “Me, the college student with an existential crisis, having regrets?” he says, looking about the room. His eyebrows fly into his hair again. “Does Percy have samosas?”

Nico stumbles to his feet, and disregards Will as he chases down Percy for some of his samosas.

Well, at least Nico wasn’t miserable, Will thinks. He was enjoying himself, sort of. This could’ve been worse.

Will sits through a horribly rehearsed, yet hilariously iconic Mean Girl’s Jingle Bell Rock reenactment by Leo, Piper, Percy, and Jason, and a marshmallow eating contest between Cecil and Lou Ellen. It’s been twenty minutes and Nico still hasn’t returned. Will hopes he’s not throwing up eggnog and samosas in the bathroom right now.

He waits five more minutes before getting up to go look, passing a couple passionately making out under the mistletoe in the hallway. He checks the bathroom, which happens to be empty, and unwillingly checks the two bedrooms, which are not so empty. He hopes the Stolls change their sheets before they crash later.

Having no luck thus far, Will ventures into the kitchen. Maybe Nico’s judgement wasn’t totally impaired and he decided to find some water to flush his system. Or he was looking for more eggnog.

“Hey, Will,” a familiar voice says. Connor Stoll, sitting atop the kitchen island, grins down at him. He has a red solo cup in one hand, the other rests around the shoulders of his boyfriend, Mitchell. He raises his cup. “Eggnog?”

Will shakes his head. “I’m good.”

“DD?” Mitchell asks.

“Well, I guess so now.”

Mitchell raises a pierced eyebrow.

“I came with Nico. He’s kind of tipsy.”

“It’s Grandma Stoll’s famous holiday eggnog,” says Connor, raising his cup in praise. “Pure fuel.”

“Hey, have either of you seen him? I’ve been looking for him for half an hour—“

“Found him,” Mitchell smirks, pointing with his cup. Next to him Connor bursts out in rambunctious laughter.

“Oh, yeah, he’s feeling merry, all right!”

Will spins around, and — Oh. Oh.

Nico was dancing rather uncoordinatedly in the middle of the living room, surrounded by a dozen people, an Ariana Grande song blaring from the speakers. Everyone whoops as the dark-haired boy gyrates his hips on an offbeat.

Will lets out a bark of laughter, unbelieving of what he was witnessing.

“Strip tease!” a voice that sounds suspiciously like Leo yells.

Nico smirks at the suggestion, but doesn’t move to take off his clothing. That is, until, he catches Will’s eye in the crowd of people.

He sends Will a wink, and begins to pull off his sweater. Will can feel his stomach flip, his face heating up.

There are hoots and hollers, and people scramble to pull out their phones. It only seems to egg Nico on more. Will thinks there’s a bit too much liquid courage pumping through his veins.

He. . . should probably stop this. Nico would be mortified in the morning if Will let him give all their classmates a drunken strip-tease.

Nico’s stripping doesn’t advance very far, however, because his sweater promptly gets stuck over his head. Everyone roars with laughter, Nico’s giggles muffled by the knitted fabric.

Will grows anxious at all the phones recording tonight’s events. There was no way Nico wanted to be the center of everyone’s social media attention. He pushes his way through the crowd, grabbing at Nico. “O-kay!”

He pulls the drunken man away from the limelight, into a less crowded hallway.

Nico speaks from inside his sweater. “Will, is that you?”

“Yes.”

“I’m stuck.”

Will laughs fondly. “I see that. Here.”

Will helps Nico pull his sweater back down. Nico huffs and ruffles his hair, looking flustered.

“I think,” says Will, fixing Nico’s bird nest hair, “you’ve had too much eggnog.”

Nico hiccups in response.

“We should probably go back to the residence hall,” Will suggests, and Nico nods exaggeratedly in agreement.  His brown eyes catch on something above them.

“What?” Will asks, and follows Nico’s eyes. Oh.

A mistletoe, in all it’s holly jolly glory, hangs mockingly right above them.

Yeah, they’re not doing that.

“That’s so cliche,” Nico comments, squinting at the fake branch.

“I agree,” says Will. He grabs Nico by the shoulders, spins him around so he can guide him. “Let’s go.”

It took nearly an hour to get Nico back to their dorm. Will struggled with guiding the stumbling man all the way to his car, then had to drive slower than usual due to Nico’s complaints of motion sickness. And as much as he adored Nico, he would still kick his ass for throwing up eggnog and samosas inside of his car.

“Oh, you are going to hate me tomorrow,” Will says to Nico, tapping through the stories on his Snapchat feed. There were various clips of Nico’s clumsy performance tonight. Hysterical as it was, Will felt slightly embarrassed for him.

Nico looks over from where Will had tucked him into his bed. “Enough to change my roommate request?”

Will laughs at Nico for the hundredth time tonight. “I hope not.”

“It’s okay,” Nico yawns before continuing, “you’re a STEM major and I still haven’t requested a new roommate. You could be in league with the First Order and I still wouldn’t request a new roommate.”

Will snorts. He wasn’t sure how Nico could be intoxicated and still manage to be a fucking nerd.

Will puts his phone to sleep, setting it down on his nightstand. He turns in his bed to face Nico. “Why’s that?”

“You said it yourself,” says Nico. Will stares at him for a long time, not quite sure what he meant. Nico smiles at him, and turns in his bed. “Merry Christmas, Will.”

Christmas wasn’t for another week. Nonetheless, Will smiles fondly, and turns off his lamp. He lies down and indulges in the butterflies that warm his stomach. They match the fluttering of his heart.

“Merry Christmas, Nico.”

the Ariana Grande song Nico was dancing to was Wit It This Christmas LMAO

#pjosecretsanta2k17 #connorstolll #solangelo #fic #my writing #mine #Will solace #Nico di Angelo #dsfdjslfsdlkfj i haven't written in so long i hope that was okay #when in doubt just compose the entire fic out of dialogue and nerdy references #i don't hate STEM majors pls no one attack me sdlkfjdsj #also i still have no idea how to write in present tense can u tell

[band-blogging]

The Boy Next Door p.1

Title: The Boy Next Door (part 1)

Requests: Can you please do another punk Gerard imagine!!! Anything please/ I realize that was vague, Anything with revenge gerard but in high school you feel

Characters: Gerard Way x Reader, Frank Iero, Mikey Way

Warnings: Cursing, cheating, fighting

A/N: This was written and re-written a few times before I finally got it the way I wanted it, I hope you guys like it!

(part 1) (part 2)

Gerard Way has to be the most annoying person on the planet. 

You read books and you watch movies and you know the story of the girl who lives next door to the love of her life and they see each other every day and it’s oh so perfect. 

But in your case, the only reason you interact with him is to tell him that his music is turned up too loud and you’re trying to study. 

You have one class with him. He’s in your European History class despite him being a grade above you. He sits in the back with his friend Frank, talking most of the time, or sleeping depending on what had occurred the night before. You can always hear what they’re doing at night, either partying or performing, both of which are loud and make it hard for you to sleep. Unfortunately for him, the mornings after those nights are rough and you can tell when he’s hungover. 

You hadn't been paying attention that day in class because of a particularly rough night. Your parents had argued for hours, and you ended up staying awake with them, listening to their screaming match from your room where you could hear almost every word they were saying. It’s not good for you to know all of their problems by listening in on their fights, but it’s hard not to hear when they’re screaming loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear, much less the room right above them. 

You decide about five minutes into the lecture about Italy’s government that it isn’t important enough for you to try keep yourself awake, and you allow yourself one day to sleep on your desk.  

“Miss Y/L/N!” your teacher shouts at you with a tone that you had only heard him use with Frank when he had stood up and drawn a dick on the board while your teacher was in the bathroom. But even when his students slept in class, he never got too angry. However, you noticed that today he was in a particularly bad mood. 

“Yes?” you say groggily, squinting your eyes as they adjusted to the light of the classroom, trying to wake yourself up as quickly as possible. 

“Sleeping in class? Am I boring you?” 

A few sniggers are heard around the room but you ignore them, shaking your head at your teacher, trying to perk up and give the impression that you were only resting your eyes for a few moments. 

“Nope.” 

Your teacher narrows his eyes at you, as if you are now under some sort of interrogation, and you suddenly feel like the only student in the classroom. 

“Pay attention.” 

You nod, resting your hand on your cheek and cursing whatever had put him in such a bad mood. If it had been any other day, he would have let it slide, as he did with almost every other student who decided to get some shut eye in his class. His main philosophy is: a student’s inability to pay attention would come back to bite them in the ass, and that’s not his problem. 

You’d all heard him say it plenty of times; he doesn't like to sugarcoat things. 

“You too, Mr. Way.” 

You take a glance back, seeing Gerard in the same state you are, barely awake now that your teacher decided to interrupt his beauty sleep. He glances at you with a smirk and a shrug, letting you know he had been awake long enough to hear your teacher rag on you before he was caught as well. 

“As I was saying,” he continues, “projects will be due in two weeks, I will not be taking anything late, so make sure it’s finished on time. Partners will be assigned after the project is explained.” 

You were woken up for this? There’s always a paper with an extensive explanation of every assignment, that’s all you need to pass. You could be sleeping right now. 

It seems that you and Gerard are having the same thought, because you hear an extremely exasperated sigh behind you, followed by a flop sound that must be Gerard throwing himself on his desk in the most dramatic way possible. Your suspicions are confirmed when you hear Frank snigger, then a slap that may have been either boy hitting the other. 

An hour passes, an hour of the most unnecessary lecture you’ve ever had to sit through, with sarcastic comments and explanations that made it feel like you were in elementary school rather than high school.

“Partner assignments...” he says once he’s finished the lecture, listing off name after name.

You wait and wait to hear your name, furrowing your eyes when you’re sure that everyone in the class had been called. Everyone except for that one person who always seems to show up...

“Gerard and Y/N.” 

Gerard doesn’t say anything, although you’re positive he wanted to. You can almost see the smug smirk on his face, but as it turns out, you don’t have to picture it because he’s suddenly beside you and you get to see that stupid smirk with your own eyes. 

“Howdy, partner,” he chuckles at his own lame attempt at a joke and pulls a chair up next to you. You sigh and smile lamely at him, letting him know that you’re not happy about the situation.

“Well, I’m about as excited as you are,” he says, leaning his elbows on your desk and shooting you another smirk, which prompts you to roll your eyes.

“I’m having fun already.” 

“Gerard, what parts do you want to say for the presentation - Gerard, don’t touch that.” 

You knew the moment Gerard walked into your room that you should have just met him at his house, only a five second walk from yours, but you suggested working in your own home in fear that his would smell like alcohol and smoke. Gerard, however, is more curious than you gave him credit for, but with curiosity comes being a nosy bitch.

“Why?” 

“Because, it’s - ” you trail off with a sigh, deciding to just stand and take it from him instead of waiting for him to put it down, something you’re not sure he would have done “ - not yours,” you finish, scowling at him. 

He sighs and sits down next to you, looking at the computer screen for a moment before flopping back on the floor. “This is boring.”

“Well, we’re almost done for the day,” you assure him, though you had barely just begun. 

“We should do something fun,” he suggests, sitting up and crossing his legs, looking at you expectedly, “you barely know anything about me. Except for the annoying stuff.” 

“Is that not all there is?” you say under your breath, seeing his glare out of the corner of his eye. You give yourself a small smile and an internal pat on the back, this being the first time you’ve managed to get him even moderately frustrated with you. His easy going, laid back nature was really starting to get on your nerves, so it’s good to see that he’s got a trait other than cocky. 

“Come on, I’m serious. This is the third time I’ve been in your room and we haven’t even had sex yet.” 

“Gerard,” you gape at his smirking face, pissed that he’s back to his normal self, “really?” 

“Oh, come on,” he laughs, “don’t act like you’ve never done the dirty.” 

You feel heat rush to your cheeks, knowing that being a junior and still being a virgin is rare. To say you’re inexperienced would be the understatement of the century. You haven’t even had your first kiss yet. 

“What, and you have?” you snap back, turning away from him so he can’t see how red your cheeks are.

“Not me,” he says, leaning back against your bed with his hands behind his head, “Gerard Way is innocent.”

You scoff at his statement and he chuckles again. “I’ve kissed people, though.”

He has this knack for saying the worst thing at the worst time, a skill that some are oh so lucky enough to be born with. 

“Good for you,” you mutter, turning your attention back to the essay, furiously typing at the keyboard, busying yourself with anything to keep yourself from making eye contact with Gerard, but you know he’s staring at you hard enough to burn a hole in the side of your head. 

“What about you?” 

“What about me?” 

“Have you kissed anyone?”  The senior sitting next to you has to be the most annoying person you’ve ever come across, and despite the fact that none of this is his business, you still give him the answers he’s looking for.

“Does it matter?” 

“We’re friends now, right?” 

You scoff, shrugging, “project partners.” 

“Aw, come on,” he punches your shoulder, “don’t be like that, buddy.” 

You can’t help but smile, and you don’t think you’ve ever fought harder to keep a scowl on your face, but a smile fights it’s way onto your lips and you can’t help it, because he may be annoying in a bad way most of the time, but every now and then he’s annoying in a good way and those moments are the absolute worst.

“So,” he lays down on his back, staring at your blank ceiling, “never kissed?  Never been kissed?” 

You purse your lips and shake your head, rereading the nonsense you had just written purely for distraction purposes. 

“Huh,” he furrows his eyebrows and you take a moment to glance at him, although his eyes are on the ceiling. You quickly turn your attention back to the computer screen when he sits up and faces you.  “I find that pretty hard to believe.” 

“You don’t have to rub it in my face.” 

“I’m not, I’m complimenting you.” 

You look at him, amazed at how oblivious he is at how to compliment people, “Were you, now?” 

“You better believe I was.” 

“Well - ” you finally look at him, closing the computer as you do so “ - I hate to tell you that you’re not very good at it-” 

You should’ve seen it coming, although no one would’ve. You see it in movies and everything from that moment on is sunshine and rainbows, but right now you’re not sure that’s what’s going to happen.

Gerard’s lips are connected to yours. He had grabbed the back of your neck in the middle of your sentence and now your lips are on his and you’re not quite sure what to do. He’s moving his lips slowly but forcefully against yours and you hate to say it, but for a split second your feel yourself kissing him back as his hand slides up to cup the back of your head. 

You come to your senses only a few seconds after that, putting both hands on Gerard’s chest and pushing him away, keeping your hand there for a moment after as you catch your breath, afraid that he may pounce on you again if you aren’t keeping your eyes on him. 

“What the hell?” 

It comes out as a sort of...squeak and Gerard’s eyes widen as he stares at you, looking as if you were the one who kissed him instead of the other way around. His eyes are wide and he is trying to catch his breath too. He looks as if he hadn't expected to actually kiss you, like it was something that should have remained in his thoughts.

“There’s your first kiss.” 

You scoff and stand, walking to your door and opening it wide, pointing at the stairs, “Get out.” 

“Y/N, come on-” 

“No!” You shake your head. This shouldn’t be bothering you as much as it is, but you do think that Gerard has just stolen your first kiss, something that you thought would be amazing and expected. It wasn’t either of those things, “Please leave.” 

He stands and walks towards the door, his eyes on the floor or on the walls or out in the hallway, anywhere but meeting your own.

“I’ll finish the project,” you tell him, “we’ve already done most of it anyway.”

“You don’t have to-” 

“I will, it’s fine,” you say, ushering him out of your room and going downstairs with him to let him out, “I’ll see you at school.” 

He sighs and looks at you for a moment, opening his mouth then thinking better of it and closing it again, turning on his heel and heading for the door. You watch him leave and start to expect something that sounds like “I’m sorry,” but it doesn’t come and the door closing brings you out of your thoughts, a sign that you’re home alone once again. You stand there for a moment, collecting your thoughts, then you lock the door and go back to your room, slowly so that you have time to think on your way up. 

You really shouldn’t be this bothered by it because it’s just a kiss and you were a bit of an asshole about it, but that was something special to you, something you were saving. 

And you’re also trying to decide if it was a good kiss or a bad kiss and whether or not you’re any good at it. One thing you’ve always wondered about kissing is if it will be hard. It seems hard, and it seems very stressful, but this kiss was so unexpected that the stress part didn’t matter. 

But, whether it was good or bad, there’s one thing you can confirm: Gerard Way has definitely been kissed before because he’s quite good at it. Not to say that it was enjoyable, it just seemed...practiced. 

Although, you didn’t not enjoy it either, and it has to be either one or the other, and going over the moment in your head is only leading to a dead end and you think your brain might explode if you try to pick the moment apart further than you already have. 

Now you have a ton of unresolved feelings and an unfinished project that you are now doing on your own. Perfect way to start the weekend. 

It’s been a week since you finished the paper, which officially marks the two week anniversary since your first kiss. You haven’t interacted much with Gerard since then, only to show him the paper, letting him read over it before you turned it in. You pass him sometimes in your neighborhood, seeing as you live next to each other and could talk to each other from your bedroom windows if you chose to. 

But nothing has come up about the kiss or about anything having to be with kissing. Just school and a quick “hello” when you pass each other. Although, it’s more of a nod from him. Gotta keep that punk rock style going somehow, even if it’s just you to see him. 

To say that things are awkward isn’t exactly right, because yes, there’s tension when you and Gerard are in the same room, but it’s not an awkward tension. It just feels...uncomfortable. Like you shouldn’t be there with him, or you shouldn’t be seen with him because people will begin to talk even though there’s no way anyone would find out. 

You have seen Gerard’s little brother, Mikey, in the halls too. You’ve talked to him a few times outside of school and he seems more...in control than Gerard in a way, and he told you he knows what happened when you were walking home from school one day and ran into him. He told you Gerard feels bad about it, but coming from Mikey it doesn’t mean as much. He could have made anything up to make you feel better, and it doesn’t make any of it true coming from someone who’s not Gerard.

Although today you find yourself distracted from Gerard and the whole kiss situation, because today your parents both got home from their separate business trips. 

Your life at home is not something you like to complain about. It’s not something worth complaining about, in your opinion, and you don’t want to throw yourself on the ground hoping someone will pity you and tell you everything will be okay, because all your parents do is fight. And even if them screaming at each other late at night keeps you up sometimes, it’s not that big of a deal.

Most of the time it’s not that big of a deal.

But today, after being alone for two weeks, no fighting, no talk of divorce, no one at all, their fighting is giving you a headache, and you know it won’t end anytime soon. They haven’t seen each other in two weeks, and you’re guessing they were starting to feel “fight-deprived.” 

Tonight, however, the fight took a turn for the worse and divorce was a very relevant conversation topic and suddenly everything felt too real for your liking. You love your parents and you don’t think you would be able to handle being tossed between them like a rag doll, maybe being asked to choose between them instead of them deciding who will have custody full time. It may sound cold, but you could care less who would get custody of you if your parents got divorced. It wouldn't matter as long as you still saw them both.

And somehow, sitting in your bedroom with your headphones blasting, you manage to catch the worst of the fight.

“I’m surprised you didn’t cheat on me sooner!” 

You hear it loud and clear despite Bon Jovi’s Wanted Dead or Alive blasting in your ears through your headphones. And, although you remain upstairs during the fight, it isn’t hard to realize that your father wasn't aware she knew about his affair because the silence that follows the statement is heavy and so long. 

“How did you find out?”  And that’s the moment you decide your parents wouldn’t want you listening in on their conversation, and besides, you aren’t very keen on hearing the rest of what they have to say anyway.

Sneaking out seems like the best option, having practiced sneaking out through your window many times in the past. It’s not rare that their fighting becomes too loud and too much for you to listen to, and if there’s one thing that’s easier than facing them, it’s climbing out of your window at midnight when they think you’re asleep. 

You leave the window open and as you walk to the playground across the street from your house, you can hear your parents shouts faintly from inside the house. It fades the farther you walk and by the time you reach the park, it’s quiet. 

Your father is cheating on your mother. 

It didn't really occur to you until just now, but once you’ve processed what was said, you start to process what that means. It’ll tear your family part. Officially. There will be no more late night fights because they won’t be together anymore. Your mother won’t walk out of the house because she just can't stand being in the same room as your father because she won’t be living under the same roof as him anymore. 

All in all, this sounds a lot like it’s leading up to a divorce. A very messy, complicated divorce. 

It’s a long time coming. 

You sit on the swing on the far left of the swing set, kicking your legs back and forth to gain some momentum, your body leaning backwards and forwards with each swing. 

It’s hard not to cry once you’ve processed everything. Your parents have probably never been this unhappy, which is saying a lot because there have been times when they have been very unhappy. 

It’s also just hitting you that this means your father has fallen out of love. Sure, they fought most nights, but you always thought that there was still love there, somewhere. You thought they would wake up the next morning and the smiles they put on specially for you were real, but those smiles were always gone by nightfall, replaced with harsh glares and words laced with poison.

But the smiles were fake and the fights were so, so real, and you’re starting to wonder if they fell out of love a long, long time ago. So long ago that your father had to go to someone else to feel love again. How long had he been with her?

You look up from your own feet, swinging back and forth to give you momentum on the swing, to the feet in front of you, walking to the swing next to yours. You recognize the worn combat boots, they came into your room a total of three times before he kissed you. 

Gerard is pretty infamous for wearing those goddamn combat boots. 

He doesn’t say anything as he sits on the swing next yours, swaying back and forth, eventually getting the timing just right so he’s in sink with your small swings, so small that his feet barely leave the ground.

“Your living room window was open,” he breaks the silence, looking at you for a moment before averting his eyes back to the ground, “mine was too.” 

You keep your head down, desperate to keep him from seeing your face, because you’re almost positive that you’re cheeks are still wet and your eyes are still red. He pulls his hair back so it’s out of his face, but it does little for him as it all falls right back into the same position it was in before. 

“I’m sorry,” he tells you, “about your parents.” 

“’S not your fault,” you say, your voice hoarser than you had hoped it would be, but he doesn’t seem to notice, and if he did he doesn’t show it. 

The silence stretches on longer, long enough for the two of you to watch your mother storm out of the house with a suitcase, getting into her car and driving off without another word. You get a call not two minutes after the driveway is missing one of the two cars it usually has, expectedly from your mother.

“Hello,” you sniff, wiping your eyes as you try to sound as normal as possible. 

“Hi, sweetie,” your mother says, sounding as if she had been crying as well, “I just wanted to call to let you know that I’m going to spend a few days with your grandparents. I’ll be back soon, alright? Is that okay?” 

“Yeah, mom, that’s fine,” you sigh, quiet to make sure your mother doesn’t hear. 

“Great,” she lets out a breath that she had obviously been holding in, “I’ll be back in a few days. A week at most.” 

You nod to yourself, “okay.” 

“I love you.” 

“Love you too.” 

She disconnects first, leaving you to hold your phone in front of you. It’s not uncommon that your mother will take a few days away from the house, but this feels different. It feels...permanent.

But it’s also different because this time you’re not sitting alone on a swing set watching your house from afar, like a movie screen. Like the most dramatic scene in the film is playing out right in front of you. 

This time, you have someone here with you. And it doesn't matter that you don’t exactly get along with him and it doesn’t matter that he kissed you almost two weeks ago, something you had been having trouble forgetting before tonight. It seems irrelevant now. It wouldn’t have mattered if Gerard was your best friend sitting next to you, or someone you truly, truly dislike, which he’s not, but it wouldn’t make a difference. He’s there and he’s providing the comfort that you need, which is just not having to be alone, so who he is doesn’t matter right now. Tomorrow it might, but tonight it doesn’t and that feels nice. It feels nice to not care who he is to you. 

You sit there for a few more minutes, watching your father pace around the living room from the windows, his hands going from his hair to his hips. You and Gerard watch him like he’s the night’s entertainment, just staring as he paces. You visibly flinch when he comes back into your view with a vase, one that’s cheap and doesn’t have much sentimental value, and chucks it against the wall. 

You feel tears surfacing again and, in desperate need of a distraction, you’re thankful that Gerard is there when he reaches out for your hand, which had been limply swinging next to your body, and laces your fingers with his. He doesn’t say anything, but he keeps your hand in his and you sigh, leaning your head against the chain of the swing so that you can be a bit closer to him and get a better grip on his hand.

His hand is warm and it feels nice around yours You close your eyes so that you can focus on nothing except for his palm pressed against your own, trying to put your parents and the image of your father breaking things out of your mind. 

“I’m sorry I kissed you,” he whispers, his thumb now rubbing small circles on the back of your hand. 

“It’s okay.” 

He stops his motions for a moment and glances at you, “it is?” 

You sigh and he continues the circles on the back of your hand, waiting for your response. When you open your eyes, your father is out of sight, probably upstairs in bed, and the only thing you can see is the couch and the stairs before your view is cut off. 

“Tonight it is.” 

x

#gerard way #gerard way imagines #gerard way x reader #gerard way imagine #my chemical romance #my chemical romance imagines #my chemical romance x reader #bands #band #band imagines #band imagine #bands x reader

[thestuckylibrary]

Mod’s Reads: November 2017

Here’s the list of everything the Mods have read this past month!

Mod Blue

(I’ve been cleaning out my marked for later list, so not as much Stucky this month)

The Cyborg Arm Job by copperbadge

The Leverage crew run into a new friend, find some buried treasure, and fight some Nazis. It's a pretty good day.

From Tralfamadore, With Love by newsbypostcard

In 2018, Steve, Sam, and Bucky embark on a mission to explore a Hydra-owned warehouse when a kid with mutant powers sends Steve 18 years into the future. After figuring out where (and when) he is, Steve tracks Bucky down in 2036 to find he's become a successful business owner and an impassioned advocate for mutant rights. Steve's just as in love with Bucky as he was when he left, but for Bucky it's been a long 18 years. It's hard to accept when Bucky keeps him at arm's length... but Steve's never met a challenge that he didn't take.

As he gets used to life in 2036 and the flaws in Bucky's idyllic life expose themselves, Steve also has to manage a suspiciously ubiquitous security force, a Brotherhood of Mutants, and old competing loyalties among his aged friends. There's a Bucky in 2018 waiting for him to come home, but if he does that, it means leaving this Bucky behind for a third, unforgivable time. How can he choose?

What's Bucky not saying?

How can he face losing everything -- again?

Taking the Fifth by Speranza

Part 11 of 4 Minute Window

This Side by brideofquiet

Bucky Barnes restores antiques for a living. Steve Rogers saves the world. Bucky has no reason to believe their paths will ever cross, right up until they do.

Or: the Notting Hill AU.

Project Phoenix by TheAvalonian

“They told me you were enemies,” the girl said blankly. “They told me I had been forged in hatred.”

Neither Bucky nor Steve said anything for a long time. The girl stayed with her hand pressed to the glass, waiting. This time, the question was there, even if she hadn't asked it outright.

Bucky cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from Steve's and pushing down on the handle. “Well, they lied,” he said gruffly, and strode out the door without looking back. Post-TWS, Steve and Bucky's lives are just starting to resemble some kind of normal when a young Hydra agent shows up in the lobby of the Avengers' Tower, claiming to be their daughter.

Mighty like Love, Mighty like Sorrow by Regann

After freeing himself from the Russians' mind control, Bucky is left at loose ends, drifting through the decades. Still, he's in no hurry to take up Nick Fury's offer to once again fight the good fight -- especially not when Fury has the nerve to put some imposter in his best friend's old suit and send him out to fight against Chitauri.

The Long Road Begins at Home by owlet (I can’t believe this is over now T___T)

Oh sure, reunion results in happiness, kittens, and rainbows, because that's definitely how life goes when you've just spent 70 years as a tool of villainy. I mean, what could possibly go wrong?

sixth avenue by gossamernotes

Living on the corner of 6th avenue in Brooklyn is not what Adam Jackson expected once he returned home from the war.

And he certainly didn't expect to become friends with a twitchy veteran named James who carries two pistols and can't seem to remember shit.

[The story wherein Bucky finds a friend in a homeless veteran and eventually finds himself again.]

Never go to bed alone when you have a library card by relenafanel

Tall, blond hottie (in a sweater) was back, staring at the wall of new and popular titles with a thoughtful expression on his face. He came in every Tuesday night like clockwork, read through the summaries on the back of a handful of books with his profile turned just enough towards the front entrance that Bucky could see the slope of his nose and take joy in watching those arm muscles minutely flex as he shifted the book in his grasp.

- OR -

Steve is an attractive library patron who is far too competent to ever ask librarian!Bucky questions. Bucky likes that in a man.

We're Not Broken, Just Bent (And We Can Learn to Love Again) by allofthefandoms

“I know you’re trying to help,” Steve says gently. “But I don’t think the Veterans’ Association is really equipped to deal with PTSD from being frozen for 70 years and having to fight your brainwashed best friend.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Sam replies dryly, feeling foolish.

“Look, you’re just trying your best and I really appreciate it, but…but talking about it isn’t what I need. It’s itching under my skin, making me restless. I need to get out, but I have no idea where to start.”

“Road trip,” Sam says, suddenly inspired. “The great American tradition. Drive across the US in a car that breaks down too much, see the sights, bemoan flat expanses and bad diner food. See what you’ve spent your whole life fighting for.”

“A road trip? Really? That’s your grand solution?”

“Says the man who has always wanted to see the Grand Canyon.”

“Got me there,” Steve says, and this time the smile reaches his eyes.

Mod Julia

Snug as Bugs by Brumeier

In which Steve comes home and finds that Bucky has retreated into a massive pillow fort.

i'd like to tell you something (but i have to think of something first) by obsessivereader

Attention focused solely on the book, he moves forward, one slow, pretend-casual step at a time—he’s seen enough movies to know that moving fast will draw people’s attention.

Five feet. Four feet. Almost there.

He’s a bare three feet away when Rogers fucking materializes out of thin air, cuts right in front of him, and heads straight for the book.

“Hey,” Bucky whispers furiously, “I want that book!”

The one where Bucky and Steve get married by bitsandbobsandstuff

No one tells Bucky Barnes how to plan his wedding. And that includes Steve.

Show Me Your Teeth by leveragehunters (Monkeygreen)

Other things that aren't supposed to happen: Steve Rogers remembering who you are even after you've fogged his mind so he forgets. But Bucky should have known from the moment he met Steve that he wouldn’t be able to make Steve do anything he didn't want to—including making Steve forget him.

Now Bucky just had to figure out how Steve had remembered him...and why he was so happy about it.

Jimmy Choo Choo by rohkeutta

When they pull up in Newark, Buff Jeff wakes up with a jolt and Bucky is knee-deep in C++ and desperately in need of breakfast. Buff Jeff turns to look at him, a little bewildered, and Bucky looks back. It’s starting to get light outside, and Bucky is suddenly very aware of his crazy insomnia eyes and haphazard ponytail.

“Um,” Buff Jeff says. He’s almost adorable with his sleepy eyes and awkward expression. “Oh. You’re-- um. Real.”

Looking After by A_Diamond

Five times Steve Rogers doesn’t need a guard dog (and one time...)

Small Victories by portraitofemmy

“Come to bed.”

Bucky blinks up at Steve, the grey eyes behind his glasses still squinted from staring at the laptop screen in front of him.

in a cabin in the woods by belovedmuerto

Steve finds Bucky in a cabin in the woods, two years later.

Newton's Law Of Naps by rohkeutta

Within the first hour Steve backs an art book, a short animated film, an eco-friendly electric toothbrush, and an archeological excavation in Oklahoma.

Not that he actually wants an eco-friendly electric toothbrush or a bicycle rack that’s shaped like a moose head, but supporting small businesses is fun, and he loves the creativity Kickstarter is bursting with.

He’s got too much money just lying around, anyway.

#mod picks

[theclaravoyant]

Pride prompt! Skimmons has been dating for a while (or maybe they are even married) and one or both of them identify as gay. When they (at the same time or not) fall in love with Fitz, questioning ensues, about how that relationship could work and about their own identities.

AN ~ Finally! As usual, it’s always a pleasure to write for you

Skimmons/Bioquake, with implied endgame FitzSkimmons. Fitz-positive. Poly-positive. Rated Light T. Mild Angst/Hurt Comfort/Angst with a Happy Ending.

Read on AO3 (~2000wd)

that which we call a rose

Jemma danced around the kitchen, preparing tea and pancakes for herself, and for Daisy when she woke up. She couldn’t remember what she’d been dreaming about, but apparently it had been very pleasant, and had put her in a good mood that had her – so far – sailing through the day. She was doling out berries onto their plates by the time Daisy padded into the kitchen, yawning, and walking on the feet of her pyjama pants. Daisy perked up immediately when she saw Jemma’s preparation, and the way she was dancing in her socks around the place.

“Somebody got up on the right side of the bed this morning,” Daisy remarked with a snort, and a smile as Jemma slid over and put a cup of tea in her hands. “What did you take last night? I want some.”

Jemma laughed, and then remembered.

She’d been dreaming about Fitz.

Grabbing her smile to make sure it did not fade from her face, Jemma shrugged, and fetched their breakfast with an angelic shrug.

“Oh, you know,” she said, “just… love.”

“Okay.” Daisy smirked at her, a little thrown off by her vagueness. “Love you too, babe.”

Jemma pecked her on the cheek, and passed the maple syrup.

-

As the morning wore on, the previous night’s elusive dream and the very real feelings it had given her – or perhaps, simply revealed in her? - gnawed at Jemma. The initial euphoria soon turned rotten and uncomfortable, and the more she tried to remember the dream (perfectly domestic, and all in sandy colours and warm and soft and that’s all she could quite recall) the worse it became. It felt good. Like a crush. But also, like cheating. Thinking about it felt wrong, but so did pretending that it had never happened. Against Jemma’s will, her thoughts lingered on it, and the evidence began to pile up that these feelings had been around longer than she’d thought. What did that mean, then? Clearly, that it was too late, if it had ever been possible, to shrug it off. There was no way out of the storm except through it. But through how? Cutting ties with Fitz? Confessing to Daisy? Jemma’s mind spun around in increasingly anxious circles until she began to bite at her thumbnail.

“Damn it,” she cursed, catching herself. She thought she’d kicked that habit years ago. But at least it pulled her back to reality, just in time for her phone to ding!

A text from Fitz.

Still on for lunch?

With a start, Jemma looked at the time. It was almost one o’clock; half an hour past when, she suddenly remembered, she had agreed to meet him.

“Damn it,” she hissed again, and slapped her phone face down on the desk. She didn’t have time for this. She didn’t have the clarity of thought for this. Nevertheless, she prompted herself, she should reply. Biting her lip, feeling another twist of guilt, she typed a quick lie:

Sorry, not feeling well. Reschedule?

Not feeling well? She couldn’t have gone with ‘caught up at work’? Now she was lying for pity as well. She pinched her nose, and her phone went off again. Fitz.

K. Get well soon.

He’d put the little pink hearts on the end, and Jemma felt a smile touch her face before she could stop it. She quickly shut her phone off and put it back on the desk, shaking her head in self-pity. A third curse just seemed superfluous.

-

When Daisy got home that evening, she was surprised to find Jemma already in bed. There was a book on her knees, but – and Daisy couldn’t be sure about this part – it didn’t look like she’d actually been reading it.

“Hey babe, you feeling okay?” Daisy wondered. Jemma pouted pitifully.

“Can we have dinner in bed?” she requested. “I wanna talk.”

“Sure,” Daisy agreed. “I’ll order takeout. The usual?”

“Please.”

“Okay. Mind if I shower before this ‘talk’?”

Jemma waved her through to the ensuite. Daisy smiled a little, reassuring in her optimism as she began to unbutton her shirt with one hand and call the Chinese place with the other on her way to the bathroom. Once Daisy was out of sight, Jemma tried to focus on her novel again, but ran her finger down the side of the page uselessly. She couldn’t focus on the story, couldn’t bring herself to care about the characters, as her gut churned over increasingly disappointing possibilities that lay before her in real life. She was still sure that talking to Daisy was the best way to go, but that didn’t mean it was not going to hurt, or cause conflict. They might even break up. Maybe they’d have to. Maybe they should.

The shower ran, and Jemma took a deep breath. It probably wouldn’t be that bad, realistically, but just in case it was, she was glad to have these extra few minutes of peace to savour. They were over quickly, though, as Daisy was too concerned, too desperate to find out what was clearly weighing on Jemma’s mind, to enjoy the usually relaxing flow of the water.

Coming out of the bathroom, Daisy pulled on a loose old shirt and crawled onto the bed, stealing a pillow to cover her legs with before they got started.

“Now, what’s this talk, hm?” she wondered, and bumped Jemma with her shoulder. “Is it a relationship talk? Good or bad?”

Jemma sighed.

“Bad. I think.”

“Oh.” Daisy’s face dropped. “Break-up bad?”

“I hope not.”

“Me too,” Daisy agreed. She took a deep breath and squeezed the pillow tightly for a moment. “Alright, let’s have it then.”

“I think – “ Jemma confessed, her fingers tugging at the doona for a distraction. That pillow-hugging idea of Daisy’s was a good one. “I think I have feelings for Fitz.”

“Oh.” Daisy nodded slowly. “Well, okay. How long have you been feeling like this?”

“Well, just today, but-“

Daisy laughed, lightly.

“Just today? Oh, Jemma, come on. The man’s been your best friend for almost half your life! Of course you’re going to have some confusing feelings about him. I get it. I’ve been there. But one day’s worth of feelings is nothing to be freaking out over.”

“But what if it’s not just one day?” Jemma fretted. “I only noticed today, but that doesn’t mean I’ve only been feeling it this long. Like, what if I remember his favourite sandwich for a reason? What if my favourite tea is his tea, not because it’s better after all, but because it’s him who’s making it? What if – what if me following him around at the Academy all those years ago… What if it means something?”

Daisy’s heart clenched, but she was still smiling. She felt like kissing Jemma’s worry away, but in this case, she doubted it would help, so embraced her gently instead.

“What could it possibly mean?” she asked, crooning a little. “Why’s any of that making you so miserable? Are you worried about me?”

The sweetness, the forgiveness, the love in her voice brought tears to Jemma’s eyes all of a sudden. Blinking rapidly to dispel any tears that might think to sneak out, Jemma drew something – a photograph – from the back of the novel she had been not-reading. Looking over her, Daisy saw that it was a picture, a slightly faded analog film picture, of Jemma, dressed in stage blacks and draped in rainbows: scarves, jewelry, a crude facepaint drawing on her cheek.

“Is that – glitter?” Daisy wondered. Jemma angled the picture, trying to see better, and snorted.

“Oh, probably,” she agreed. “This was my first Pride. Fitz was there; he’s taking the photo. He was the first person I came out to, in the States. I was worried at first that, you know, he was going to make it weird. He didn’t. He was really good about it, actually.”

“That’s good,” Daisy cheered, giving Jemma a light, encouraging squeeze. Jemma sighed, a long and weighted sigh, and Daisy frowned. Gently, she asked; “so what’s the problem?”

“It took me a long time,” Jemma explained. “To figure out who I was. I was so much younger than everybody else, and so much more accelerated than my own cohort. I’d thought it was just that at first. A lack of anybody really compatible. Once I started to notice patterns I was sort of – relieved. It was starting to make sense. Now it doesn’t anymore.”

“Love and attraction are strange things,” Daisy agreed. “But you get to make sense of it however it makes sense to you. It’s okay if it changes.”

“But isn’t that what they say?” Jemma returned. “It’s always a phase, and lesbians are all secretly attracted to men, and if the guy waits long enough he’ll always get the girl, and-”

“Woah, wait, who’s this ‘they’?” Daisy interrupted. “Jemma. Babe. Look at me.”

Daisy took Jemma’s hands in her own until Jemma’s eyes steadied on hers.

“First of all,” Daisy explained, “I think ten years is a bit beyond the Friendzone Warrantee. If Fitz wanted in your pants he would have given up by now. I’m afraid he’s a decent person, and now he’s stuck with us. And secondly –“

Slowly, she enunciated:

“Who. Gives. A Fuck. It’s not on you to meet all of society’s expectations. You love who you love, everyone else can get stuffed.”

Jemma almost laughed, the curse feeling at odds with the earnest expression in Daisy’s eyes. And yet, somehow, it was perfectly in tune. Jemma sighed again, but it was lighter this time.

“You know what I mean,” she insisted. “I feel like I’m being… a bad lesbian, I guess. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Who says anything has happened?” Daisy reminded her. “It’s been one day. One weird dream and by the sounds of things, a hell of a lot of overthinking. It doesn’t mean you’re in love.”

“But what if it does? What if I am?”

“Well, that depends.” Daisy took a deep breath. Her heart clenched a little, not so optimistically this time, as she nudged the proverbial door open. “Do you think you’re still in love with me too?”

“Yes, Daisy, absolutely I love you!” Jemma gasped. “Of course I do!”

“Then we’ll just have to figure something out.” Daisy smiled a little, reassured, and entwined her fingers with Jemma’s. She kissed the back of Jemma’s hand gently.

It was at this moment, of course, that the doorbell had to ring. Daisy climbed out of bed and pulled on pants on her way to answer it. At least when she came back, the mood was more settled than it had been: warmer and more forgiving.

“You really don’t mind?” Jemma checked, as Daisy began passing out the food and arranging a little food-nest around them.

“Hey, I can’t control your heart,” Daisy acknowledged. “As long as I’m still in it, I’m good.”

“But it’s not – it’s not exactly what you signed up for, is it?” Jemma blushed a little.

“What?” Daisy frowned. “What did you think I signed up for? I just went down to the lesbian store one day and was like ‘one cute, ridiculously intelligent, non-biphobic English one please’, and they were like sure! Make sure you walk her twice a day and don’t feed her shellfish?”

Jemma couldn’t help laughing at that.

“No- “ she said. “Well, maybe.”

Daisy snapped a pair of chopsticks apart and passed them to Jemma, then snapped a pair of her own and started opening boxes.

“Did you ever consider,” she offered, “that maybe you’re not a bad lesbian. Maybe you’re a really good bi.”

“You think?”

“Sure, absolutely.”

“What do I do, then?”

“Well, study up Missy, there’s an entrance exam next week!”

Jemma rolled her eyes. Daisy beamed at her, and high-fived her chopsticks instead.

“Welcome to the club, babe. We really do have T-shirts.”

#skimmons #bioquake #fitzskimmons #ot3: fitzskimmons #prompt me stuff #clara's fic tag #florchis

[cleopatraas]

if Chiara was alive what would things be like?

I LIKE THIS 

Disclaimer: ACOMAF is a huge book and I barely remember a lot of it, just some big scenes, so it’s probably not in order and it’s a bit choppy. 

Chiara becomes known across Prythian as the High Lord Killer. When Tamlin and his brothers came to kill her and her mother, she did not die, though her mother did. The High Lord of the Spring Court killed her mother first and Chiara only saw red 

Chiara screamed a scream so loud it shattered mountains. Magic burst free from her entire body, magic she had forced herself to lock away, to shove deep down. And it poured out of her, killing the High Lord where he stood. 

Tamlin never forgave his mate for killing his father 

Later, Rhys, Chiara, and their father go to the Spring Court to enact revenge for their mother/mate. Rhys and Chiara each get a sibling, and Chiara takes her precious time, where as Rhys just melts the Heir’s brain. 

Their father still kills the Lady of the Spring 

Tamlin still kills their father 

Chiara never forgave her mate for killing her father 

Chiara was High Lady of the Night Court, Night Incarnate, Death’s Hand, and she was more than feared. A little girl had killed a High Lord, a little girl sat on Prythian’s strongest court’s throne. 

A little girl melted brains, snapped necks, let her blades slide through bodies, and seemingly felt no remorse 

Rhys became her trusted advisor

Cassian became her General Commander 

Azriel became her Shadowsinger, and she vowed never to use him the way her father used him 

Mor became her Second, which Keir hated just like he hated he had to bow to a High Lady, but Chiara took no prisoners, as they say

The Spring Court and the Night Court were (im)mortal enemies, but no one knew why except for a chosen few 

Chiara saved Amren from the Prison 

bonus: Chiara does indeed ask Amren to bed her. If you thought she was straight, boy, you’re wrong 

They became the Court of Dreamers, the six of them. The High Lady, Her Second and Third, her Commander, her Shadowsinger, and her brother. (Rhys doesn’t have his powers, since Chiara has them all as High Lady, but he’s the best Illyrian warrior there is) 

Then Amarantha came 

Chiara went willingly, knowing she had to protect her family 

But Amarantha wanted both siblings, even if Rhys isn’t all powerful. She wanted something to hold over Chiara 

Amarantha used Chiara to terrorize Prythian into submission. Rhys is still Amarantha’s Whore, but Chiara is Amarantha’s High Lord Killer 

The curse put on Tamlin and the Spring Court is even worse, if you think about it, because his mate is right there but he still has to fall for a human 

Feyre comes in 

Now whether you want Chiara to fall in love with Feyre or Rhys to fall in love with Feyre, that’s all up to you. It could go either way. But Chiara replaces Rhys in the Calamnai scene and in the manor scene with Tamlin and Lucien 

Under the Mountain Rhys still helps Feyre through her Trials, and Chiara covers for them 

Chiara walks in on Tamlin and Feyre, instead of Rhys. Whether she kisses Feyre instead of Rhys, is entirely up to you. But I doubt Chiara would kiss her brother’s mate, then again, to keep her alive. Who knows 

Chiara and Rhys watch in horror as Feyre dies. Chiara has to watch as her mate mourns for another. Chiara steps forward and forces the other High Lords to bring Feyre back. “Unless you’re telling me you’re defying the High Lord Killer” No one defies her. 

Chiara, Rhys, and Tamlin kill Amarantha, and Chiara gets the killing blow. The High Lord Killer and her brother leave Under the Mountain, but everything has changed 

Tamlin, indeed, fell in love with Feyre. He fell in love because he truly believed that Feyre was his second chance. Not for a mate, but a second chance at happiness 

Feyre asks for someone to save her 

Chiara and Rhys show up at their wedding. “And here I thought I would at least get an invitation to your wedding, Tamlin” Chiara gives her mate a kind, cool smile. 

The monthly visits start 

“Tamlin said there were no High Ladies” Feyre is obviously confused by this blatant lie, since Chiara is standing in front of her and has been standing in front of her for a long time now 

“Some males still can’t accept females are better. Even their own mates. Such a tragedy, though it can never be avoided” 

“Mates? Your his-”

“It’s a long story” 

Feyre meets the Inner Circle 

Cassian and Azriel are in love, Mor and Amren are in love, but the dynamic between all six of them is far better than mere feelings between their hearts 

Chiara and Rhys have a nice sibling talk about Feyre along the way 

“You deserve to be happy, brother, and she is that happiness. Do not let me stop you” 

“I’m the older one here, I should be comforting you”

“Alas that’s not how it is” 

Disclaimer: This is where it gets choppy and messy, because I’m certain the scenes aren’t in order. Just how I remember this. 

The Inn Scene and the Throne Scene still happen between Feysand, unless you ship Chiara and Feyre, then it happens between them. It’s up to you 

Hybern’s forces shoot Chiara out of the sky, instead of Rhys. Rhys and Feyre look for her, while Azriel and Cassian look for the shooters 

Feyre gets the Suriel along with Rhys 

“Ta ta ta your mate’s sister is danger, no no no, I’ve always liked Chiara, my High Lady, did you know she came to me so long ago, ta ta ta, save her, save her like that brute was never able to. A heart of stone, a spirit of gold, yet courage of nothing” 

“My what now’s sister”

Cricket noises 

They save Chiara of course, followed by Feyre yelling at Rhys (or Chiara, I mean, again, up to you) because he/she didn’t tell her about the mating bond. And with Chiara, yes, Fae can have two mates, so it’s entirely possible

There are a lot of specific of ACOMAF that I don’t remember, so let’s fast forward to a scene we all remember 

Tarquin, MY BOY, and the Summer Court, MY PEOPLES 

I could totally see Chiara and Tarquin or Chiara and Cresseida so please, if anyone ships it, by all means, ship it 

I’d also be down for her and Varian 

But Tarquin, you have to admit, my young boy, is fascinated with Chiara.

She’s High Lady. She’s the High Lord Slayer. And she’s in his court, showing an interest in him? He totally has a little boy crush on her

I totally forget the specifics but you know how Amren and Feyre get the book and almost drown and laugh about it later? 

Chiara is somehow in that scene too. 

“You almost drowned and you’re laughing?”

“Lighten up, brother, these things don’t happen every day” 

Tarquin sends them red rubies, my precious son. Chiara is slightly disappointed that she’s lost Tarquin’s allegiance, trust, faith, and so on 

FEEL FREE TO SHIP THIS 

skipping a lot 

The Archeron Household 

Boy oh boy 

I would love Chiara to be in this scene 

Nesta and Elain automatically think Rhys is High Lord 

But Chiara just smiles, picking at her nails, “Wrong. I’m not just High Lady. I’m known as the High Lord Killer, as well, so take your pick, I suppose” 

I guess you could start shipping Chiara and Nesta at some point. 

Chiara defends Feyre, because she is her family now, she defends Feyre against Nesta and Elain as if Feyre was her own sister 

The scene with the Queens still happens with Rhys and Feyre 

skipping forward (again)

Defending the Rainbow. 

Chiara kills the Attor so eventually she’ll be known as the Attor Slayer as well. She allows Feyre to fight, because this is her home now, she is a part of her court, and if she’s going to stay, she’s going to fight for their people 

And Feyre does just that. She fights alongside Chiara, Chiara carrying her through the sky, allowing her to slay the flying beasts. 

The best sistermance you can dream of 

Now let’s fast forward again to the King of Hybern scene 

I really don’t want to do the Cauldron scene, because Chiara would have never let Feyre put the Book together, that was a stupid move 

Moving on

Azriel’s been shot, poison running through his veins, all hope seems to be lost 

Cassian’s wings have been shredded

Chiara is standing in front of Azriel, ready to lay down her life for her older brothers. She has her arm out, putting it between the King and Cassian 

Rhys is trying to protect Feyre, Cassian is by Azriel’s side (not Mor, I told you guys Cassian and Azriel are in love) 

And Chiara stares down at the King, snarling “I’d love to add King Annihilator to my list. Maybe Dethroner of Kings sounds better?” 

Chiara TAKES NO PRISONERS OKAY 

Then Tamlin and his betrayal comes in 

But he’s done it for a different reason 

Chiara stares at him in complete horror, still putting her body between the King, and now him, and her family. “Why, Tamlin? I understand that our actions have destroyed our bond, but why destroy Prythian?” 

“Your dream was to make Prythian a better place and this is how I plan to do it” 

“You fool!” 

“Lover’s quarrel?” The King, that sassy devil

Nesta and Elain are still drowned in the Cauldron 

Low key I want them to die, but they don’t, my present to you 

Chiara almost laughs at Nesta raising her middle finger to the King 

“She’s my mate” Lucien and his big mouth about Elain

We all know what else happens 

Feyre goes back to the Spring Court 

Azriel is still dying 

Cassian’s wings are still shredded 

I’m glad I could reopen these wounds for you 

Now the next scene could go two ways 

If you ship Chiara and Feyre: Chiara isn’t concerned with Feyre being back in the Spring Court, she trusts her, she would put her life in Feyre’s hand, she knows Feyre is responsible. “My High Lady” Because they totally would get married and do the ceremony just like Feysand did in the cover of the night you can bet on that 

If you ship Rhys and Feyre: Same as the book. But Chiara is officially willing to kill Tamlin, her mate, to get Feyre back. She’s willing to kill him, for the betrayals upon betrayals, for tearing apart lives. Chiara is no longer his redemption 

This is super angsty and it would be so much better if I could remember more scenes from ACOMAF off the top of my head 

Bonus - ACOWAR 

CHIARA, A HEALED CASSIAN, A HEALED AZRIEL, MOR, AMREN, AND RHYSAND TRAVELLING TO THE COURTS TO UNITE THEM AND DEFEAT HYBERN

MY LONGEST YEAH BOY EVER 

That’s it. That’s all I could think of. I hope this wasn’t disappointing, anon. 

#chiara #high lady of the night court #she LIVES #this is super long #and i know its choppy #and there are probably typos #i am a failure #i know #acotar #acomaf #with chiara #ALIVE #AND WELL #AND TOTALLY NOT DEAD #rhys #cassian #azriel #mor #amren #the inner circle #feyre #tarquin #nesta #elain #tamlin #lucien #the whole crew

[trashyemonerd]

Detained ; Peter Maximoff x Reader

Title: Detained

Words: 2,303

Fandom: Marvel (X-Men)

Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x Reader (Fox Version so, Peter)

Summary: Consuming of food inside the girls bathroom during class hours with a silver haired boy may lead to detention.

Warning/s: A swear word or two??  And slightly bad fluff (honestly not even fluff??)

Legend: Y/N - Your Name

++++++++++

You sat down on a chair far away the silver haired boy and began to write a five hundred word essay about the book Don Quixote of Miguel de Cervantes. You had to do something for the next hour to not allow the boredom seep into your system. Plus, this homework was due tomorrow, at least get it done so when this unnecessary torture was over, you could go straight to bed at home and rest. And maybe pretend this day didn’t go bad as it was.

     The sight of students rushing to go home and going to their respective practices were displayed through the glass windows on the left side of the room you were detained in.

     It was only you and Peter today in the detention room.

     Correction: It was only you and Peter being detained today.

     Mrs. Marble was the other person in the room. She was supposed to look after the both of you but she somehow managed to fall asleep while reading a trashy magazine.

     God, you had to endure an extra hour in school because of Pietro- sorry, he preferred Peter-Maximoff. You hardly even knew that guy besides the fact he has a peculiar vibe going on around him- silver hair, alabaster skin, leather jacket that was silver, headphones around his neck, some wicked pair of silver shoes… And that he can get handsy on somethings. No, not in that kinky manner (but who knows how kinky can this dude go?)  but in the sense of kleptomania.

     Your head turned around to sneak a peak of him. He sat on the far side corner of the room in his black shirt that was overlaid with his jacket, his seemingly unnatural hair colour covered by a kids party hat.

     He brought out a pack of Twinkies and some cafeteria stolen goods (a box of red velvet cake, tater tots, pizza, mac and cheese, some sloppy joe).

     Is this dude nuts? You both got this punishment because of his love to get things that weren’t his and he’s going to eat them here?

     You mentally applaud him. It took guts to do that crap he’s doing and he brought irony to this situation you guys were in. It puzzled your mind though on how he managed to get the food… Weren’t they confiscated from him?

     He must’ve felt your gaze on him. Peter looked up from his act of opening the package of Twinkies. He gave you a shiteating grin and waved, Twinkie still in hand and the box of pizza on his desk. You quickly looked away- not before turning your eyes into slits that made you look weird but it was the only menacing looking you could muster -and busied yourself with the paper in front of you. A blush started to creep on your cheeks but you mentally willed yourself to let it fade because despite of him being cute with his rainbow party hat and grin, he still gave you the first detention of your life.

     Soon enough you could smell the scent of pizza and Twinkie wafting. The pen left ink as it moved on the paper just like the smell of pizza was seducing your stomach to eat itself inside out because of its mouthwatering aroma.

     You prayed to the heavens you wouldn’t go hungry because you told yourself earlier to not talk to Peter. As aforementioned, the both of you were here because of those sexy stolen food.

     During fourth period World Literature earlier this day, you had gotten out of class to head to the bathroom for a time kill. Literature wasn't that terrible but your teacher’s voice was monotone and sleep inducing, you asked for permission to head out to the comfort room.

     "You look like a zombie,“ a voice had broken the silence that blanketed the empty halls.

     The voice belonged to a mischievous looking teenager, leaning against the cream coloured wall in the middle of the doors to the bathrooms.

     Your siblings had been teasing you that you look like trash but a zombie? Did this unknown dude have to put it out there that there were unflattering black under your eyes?

     You ignored him and moved closer to the bathroom that was labeled for females. A pale arm suddenly blocked your way.

    “Aw, you’re gonna ignore me, princess? You seriously are a zombie. Not even acknowledging my presence.”

     The princess comment went completely ignored, you calmly replied to him with your own question, “Is your presence even needed to be acknowledged?”

     His pink lips had formed a smirk before mumbling something fast that you could not decipher.

     ’Whatever, willowy dude. Your thoughts aren’t worth a penny.’ You had thought at that moment. You pushed him away to enter the comfort room.

     The door swung open as you turned the knob. You stepped inside, hoping the guy would bugger off.

     No such luck because the guy had slipped inside as the door started to swing close, in a world record breaking time.

     “But how…?” You started to question as he unexpectedly had food along with him.

    “Oh, sush.  Count your blessings, princess,” he waved his arm around like he was swatting a fly. There was a lot of food with him including a cake that said “Happy Birthday, Wilson!” which was the principal’s name. The food was suddenly placed all over the counter.

    “This is the girl’s bathroom…” you lamely had said to him.

     "So? I have goggles and my hair’s silver?“ He retorted and calmly produced a knife and sliced the cake. Has it been mentioned earlier? You must have forgotten. Peter had goggles with him and he claims he has it with him at all times.

     “Right… Water is wet.” You nodded at him, staring as he cut the cake in a quick, even hand gestures.

     “Bingo, correct-o, princess” he replied after licking some icing that got on his hand. The knife he had with him was gone in thin air. You tried looking for the knife nonchalantly but failed. Shock and curiosity was written all over you face. Peter noticed it but only chuckled at you then swiftly took the tool he placed on the school’s kitchen how many milliseconds ago.

     A slice of cake was on left hand and the knife was on his right hand. You looked at him astonished but quickly shook your head.

     “I am hallucinating. God.” You convinced yourself. Like, this dude had silver hair? Isn’t that a large neon warning sign for you by now? Maybe he made you sniff some drugs that kidnappers use to put the victim out of cautiousness or maybe, ecstasy? You haven’t eaten anything from his array of goodies.

     “This is wonderland alright, princess.” He smirked at you. A black baseball cap was adorning his head at that time instead of a kid’s party hat.  Despite that your cheeks was tinted pink you managed to spit out, “Stop calling me that,” to the interesting guy in front of you.

     “Princess?” He asked you.

      “Yeah, jerk. And get out of here. We might get into trouble.” The time kill you intended was short and brief not a long one but it doesn’t matter. You were sick of monotonous voices and pinching yourself to wake up. Was this skipping classes? You had the pass, though. You technically weren’t cutting classes.

     “Why would like another nickname?”

      You still were contemplating on whether or not this comfort room lounging past time was considered to be violating school rules when he continued talking, “Hm, honey? No, what about sugar? Cupcake?”

     “Nah… sweetcheeks?” he paused and then laughed so hard he look like a maniac because you know… knife on his right hand and all.

      “Sweetcheeks reminds me of buttcheeks and assholes.” He continued to laugh. This got your attention and honestly made you worry about this boy who confirmed that he was quite odd and frankly, you found out you didn’t mind because it was kind of a fresh air.

     “What about eggs?” You deadpanned and then mentioned to him that he was going to a route of food related nicknames and down the rabbit hole.

     “Oohhh! You could be Alice; I’ll be the Mad Hatter.” He grinned at you. The silver haired boy took a bite of the birthday cake which you are now sure that belonged to the principal.

      He offered you the bitten cake and out of your “lacking judgment”, you took it and easily munched on the chocolate-y goodness. The principal may be bitter about some things all the time but his taste in cake sure was sweet.

      "Pietro,” he introduced himself to you as a second (third?) bite was executed to the chocolate cake.

      “Well… Actually don’t call me that. Call me Peter, or Pete,”

      A hand was outstretched to you… A pale right hand minus the knife. Once again, you scanned the room on where the hell could the knife be but you simply let the notion of checking every stall go for the principal’s chocolate cake was so. good.

     You swallowed the cake and replied with, “Y/N.”

     You extended your left hand to him which was mildly covered with frosting as that was the hand with the cake earlier. The cake now took residence to your right hand.

      Peter shook your frosting covered hand after commenting loudly, “The zombie has a name!” and gave a firm shake.

     “I’m actually pretty disappointed that you aren’t Alice, though.”

     "Scramble now, Peter. We’re gonna get caught soon because of your boisterous voice.“

     He faced you with a lazy grin. "My voice? Boisterous? Get real,” he said really loudly like megaphone was built in his voice box.

     "You took my slice of cake. Show some gratitude, Alice.“

     A poker face was thrown to his way when he those words had escaped his lips.

      "Peter, get out. Seriously. Gratitude my ass, we’re gonna be in trouble because of you.”

     You had a little quarrel before the Principal, Mr. Wilson the birthday boy, caught the two of you. A stern glare was sent your way when he opened the bathroom door.

     Your face had chocolate frosting in it despite the fact the food magically disappeared. You were pretty sure Principal Wilson had now the idea where his missing food had gone. But you so were not going to let this one drop; you were going to ask Peter about the disappearing trick he keeps on pulling.

     “Ahh, happy birthday?” Peter had exclaimed and lamely threw his hands in the air.

     Well, you guess it wasn’t entirely Peter’s fault but whatever.

      You were already tired of writing the essay. The clock behind the sleeping figure of the detention moderator read 3:45 PM.

      It only has been fifteen fucking minutes? Fifteen minutes passed by and the only thing you wrote on the leaf of paper was your name, date, and the title of your essay, Knighthood: Don Quixote’s Dying Goal, which was pretty dumb but meh.

     You were grateful the principal gave you a short detention, though.

      Paper balls flew across the room hitting your neck. Unless it was a spiritual entity, you were pretty sure it was Peter doing this.

     Maybe Peter was a spiritual entity! How else could you explain the weird vanishing things?

     He threw more little crumple wads of paper. You didn’t mind him and stared at your essay.

     What would you write about Don Quixote? Should you write if who was fooled, Don Quixote or the people who jokingly knighted him?

      You dumbly stared at your paper, letting your hand draw scribbles on the sheet of the intermediate pad.

     This was getting boring. It was only eighteen minutes to your punishment and it was becoming tiring.

     "You know,“ Peter’s loud raspy voice announced. "If I had to choose to spend an entire day with you and stung by five hundred bees forty eight times to death…”

     You looked at him, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

     "I’d choose spending time with you although you’re a boring zombie. Bees scare the living shit of me.“ He shivered at the thought of getting stung by multiple bees, multiple times.

     You laughed at Peter and his confession.

     "Hey, don’t be mean.” He fake pouted.

     "Don’t worry, if I had to spend an entire day with you and cursed numerous times by Lord Voldemort…“

     Peter looked expectantly at you with his pouted lips.

     He looked absolutely ridiculous with a party hat on and those pouted lips… Just like a kid. Well, he seemed to be childish.

     "I’d pick being hexed by Voldemort because hashtag goals, man!” You said a little louder than you meant. Mrs. Marble moved in her seat, still asleep, though.

     "What? Ugh, Y/N, you are so mean.“

      You only gave him an imaginary tip of your hat.

     "If I had to choose to spend an entire day with you and drown in the River Styx, I’d pick the latter.” He stuck out his tongue at you.

     "That’s unfair! I wanna come along!“ you exclaimed at his selfishness.

     "But you’re mean,” he said in a kiddie manner. “Also, I would give you my party hat but like I said you’re mean so you have to deal with tipping imaginary hats!”

     You glanced at the white clock that hung above.

      3:52 PM.

     ’The remaining thirty eight minutes would pass by quickly.’ You thought as you turned your whole body around to face him without breaking your neck and preparing yourself for thirty eight minutes of food and childish banter in the detention room. Plus, you still have to ask him if he was a wizard or some sorts because how he was so fast or made things go away into thin air?

     This was going to be one of hell of a party in the detention room.

 ++++++++++

Note: Ahhh, I found this on the laptop as I was making a report for school and I just had to post it! I remember writing this one but I completely forgot to post it. Here’s my first Peter Maximoff fanfic! Sorry if he’s OOC, this is my first fic of him. Also this slightly au (because modern setting and all) I love Quicky so much & I’m writing another fic about him (as well as bby Jaybird, I actually have so many drafts to post!) (;

-Mika the Fangirl x

#peter maximoff x reader #quicksilver x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro django maximoff #peter maximoff #quicksilver #reader insert #fanfic #imagine #peter maximoff imagine #peter maximoff fanfic #quicksilver imagine #pietro maximoff imagine #marvel imagine #x-men imagine #x-men #high school au #moder au #is this even au #high school modern au #fem!reader #female!reader #don quixote #don quixote mention #miguel de cervantes mention #miguel de cervantes #fox quicksilver #quicksilver fox version #my fics #mika the fangirl writes

[willreadforbooze]

Hey everyone!!

Hope you all had a great third week of Magical Readathon! I know we did!

Sam’s Update

I had a really fucking great week. Some really good life stuff happened. Also my best reading week this year. 5 OWLs down, 2 to go. I may even be able to get a seminar done!

What Sam Finished:

History of Magic: Wayward Son by Rainbow Rowell: This is the sequel to Carry On. A sequel that we didn’t deserve but we got anyway. This is sort of a spoof on Harry Potter fanfiction that began in another of Rowell’s books, Fangirl, which was also great. This was not as good as the first one, sort of a let down. I still love the characters but they seemed a little whiny this time. More to come in a drunk review.

Ancient Runes: The Midnight Lie by Marie Rutkowski: (I have a real photo here to show that my beautiful special edition has a heart on it so it counts) This is a story of a girl who’s living a pretty shit life working for and being raised by this abusive woman. But as with most abusive relationships, she has no idea. Anyway, she ends up in prison for something dumb and she meets this person who is charming and they get them both out early. Another let-down but still beautiful. Drunk review is coming for this one too.

Arithmancy: The Book of Longings by Sue Monk Kidd: FOLKS. This is the fictional story of Ana, Jesus’s wife. Yep, you read that right. Sue Monk Kidd imagines a universe in while Jesus Christ has a wife. And while we all know his story, this is really more about hers. What was it like to be a strong woman in a world where women weren’t intended to be. Friends, I loved this. LOVED it. Can’t wait for Drunk Sam to gush about this.

What Sam is Currently Reading:

Divination: The Kingdom of Back by Marie Lu: So I’m listening on audio but what I can make out is that this is the story of Wolfgang Mozart’s sister and her way in to a magic world. The way she gets there is through music. I am loving it. Can’t wait to read more.

Astronomy: Seven Endless Forests by April Genevieve Tucholke: I’m like 8 pages in. But it’s a gender bent Norse version of King Arthur, I think. We’ll see.

Minda’s Update

Magical Readathon (and social distancing) continues! Four classes down, two to go.

What Minda finished:

Every Heart a Doorway by Seanan McGuire – Completed Ancient Ruins! This (short!) read is about the children who travel to alternate worlds that reflect their truest selves—then end up back in our own world. It was delightfully creepy—loved hearing about the worlds.

Imposters by Scott Westerfeld – Charms also complete! This series is a continuation of the Uglies/Pretties/Specials world, which I loved when I was a teen. Two twin girls are inseparable… that’s because one is the other’s double. The double steps in for a dangerous deal and needs to keep her sister’s identity to survive. I loved and can’t wait to read the next!

What Minda is reading now:

If These Wings Could Fly by Kyrie McCauley – For Arithmancy as something outside my fave genre. A powerful story about a teen girl who is balancing school, dating, and being a good sister, all under the cloud of the domestic violence she faces at the hands of her father at home.

Ginny’s Update

Happy 4/20 everyone. I managed to actually fit in a little more reading this week, and the library oh so cruelly took back another e-book. Because I’m actually home, I’ve been trying to get through some of the physical books I’ve had sitting around forever.

What Ginny Finished:

The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern: That’s right. I finally finished this sucker. And I was right, I needed to be in the right headspace and wasn’t there. This book got very 2001: A Space Odyssey late in the book and… I don’t have the brainpower to make that work. I think it’s a book I could still enjoy but, wow was now not the right time for me.

Sarah Bernhardt: The Divine and Dazzling Life of the World’s First Superstar by Catherine Reef: This is a YA biography. But I had a few issues with this that pretty much boiled down to this book felt more like a recitation of facts, and seemed unbalanced as to where the focus was.

A Love Hate Thing by Whitney D. Grandison: Okay, so this book was clearly supposed to be a cute YA book, but boy do I have some major issues with it. To the point that Sam wants me to write a review to get it all out. I might, but let’s just say a lot of my issues stem from the fact that this book has a lot of good to it, which is why I’m so frustrated. Basic story, boy gets taken in by childhood friends family, but was from the rough side of town. He and the daughter clearly have a thing for each other.

What Ginny is Currently Reading:

Shorefall by Robert Jackson Bennett: I’m still loving this book, but like I said, I’ve been having trouble reading, and my focus has shifted to physical books, and this one isn’t physical. Things are starting to ramp up so I’m pretty sure that as soon as I read one more chapter I’m going to fall into a hole and finish the book.

Crybaby Ranch by Tina Welling: This is one of those books that I’ve had forever after pillaging it from family. It falls in the “wife realizes she needs to leave her marriage and goes to reinvent herself.” She’s going to Wyoming, which seems like an odd choice, but yeah, her husband sucked.

What the Library Stole:

City in the Middle of the Night by Charlie Jane Anders: I’ve already put a new hold on this one. It just got away from me.

Until next time, we main forever drunkenly yours,

Sam, Ginny, and Minda

Weekly Wrap-Up: Apr 13 – 19, 2020 Hey everyone!! Hope you all had a great third week of Magical Readathon! I know we did!

#Wrap Up

[tessatechaitea]

Shade the Changing Girl #2

Whoa! Look how crazy this comic book looks! It must be super smart and insightful and full of the arts!

This comic book is take itself too literally.

In this comic book, the poetry of Shade the Changing Man, Rac Shade, appears in rainbow colored Narration Boxes. The Narration Boxes of Shade the Changing Girl, Loma, are in blue. Then there are pink Narration Boxes that belong to somebody else. They appeared last issue but I just assumed they were also Shade's. That was a bad assumption because you know what they say about assumptions? I thought I knew but I can only make the word ass and u and mptions out of that, so I guess I was wrong about what they say. Anyway, the pink Narration Boxes belong to a third person. Possibly Megan who was pushed out of her own body? Or maybe it's some aspect of Loma that's left in her Metan body still in the Area of Madness. There's a moment this issue where a pink comet is zooming past a sun and moon in space thinking, "What. Where. Why. Wow." See? It's probably Megan. Just like some aspect of Troy Grenzer remained when Shade took his body, Megan's consciousness is still out there and still somehow attached to her body. Shade walks into school for the first time since she came out of her coma and she quickly realizes everybody at the school hates or fears her. Why do I suddenly have the urge to croak "Corn Nuts?" and over enunciate the word "eskimo"? Meanwhile on Meta, Mellu is investigating the Case of the Stolen Madness Vest although it hardly matters. Whoever took it probably put it on (they did!) and their body is now slowly decomposing in the Area of Madness (it is! Probably!). Shade discovers the library at high school, much to the chagrin of a small girl. It's probably Teacup, right? It's been so long since I read Issue #1 that I don't remember if Teacup made an appearance before Megan drowned while doing a shitload of ecstasy. Anyway, it's obvious that Megan never showed an interest in the library before, and this tiny girl (Teacup, right?!) used to hide out here from the mean girls.

Ugh! Don't read Yeats! I can't bear to read a character who picks up a book of Yeats poetry and understands it without any outside sources or further reading! But if she is going to get into Yeats, please at least let her read something other than "The Second Coming"! Yeats wrote way more poems than just that one!

Heather's Numbers Two through Four come in search of Teacup in the library. But Teacup hides from them, as does Shade. But she can't help herself from engaging in a little Madness. Probably because she doesn't have any real control over it. Maybe it's her Madness Nemesis! Shade the Changing Man had the American Scream. Maybe Shade the Changing Girl has the American Teen!

I can name all of the books, plays, and poems these are from! The whale is obviously from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, the one-eyed thingy is from Lady Chatterley's Lover, the hand holding the skull is from Harry Potter and the Skull of Squicking, the letter A is from Dr. Seuss's ABC, the raven is from The Sandman, and the cat is from Garfield.

Shade thinks that maybe Teacup was her friend but Teacup is terrified of her. So she makes a big scene in the library and some guy named River is all, "I'd heard you were all about the drama. But do you mind having it somewhere else?" Right?! Libraries should totally be drama-free zones! And anybody who ever makes a scene or an uproar or a loud sneeze in a library should be banned for life. Libraries should have no tolerance policies for shenanigans! Although I did once masturbate in the stairwell of the library at Portland State University, so obviously I only mean that if the person gets caught they should be banned for life! I almost certainly, probably, never did that thing I just said I did. So gross! Besides, I was barely eighteen! Possibly even still seventeen! I was too young to cope with the freedom of college! Besides, nobody ever specifically sat me down and said, "Do not masturbate in public stairwells." Anyway, River is Shade's neighbor. He never knew Megan so Shade feels like maybe she can safely become a friend of his. He might not be thinking the same thing but I bet he gets pulled into her madness anyway. Especially because his name is River and that's got to be symbolic for something soon! Meanwhile, the pink girl in space with the pink Narration Boxes makes an appearance. So, see, that's another character or something! Shade goes home to watch old timey television and ponder how she's going to figure out who Megan was and how to make her better. Then it's time for the back-up comic! The back-up comic book isn't worth reading. It's all in-your-face about how change is a good thing and not changing is a bad thing which totally ends with a sex joke. I think. I don't know. I stopped paying attention to narratives that feel like clubs to the back of the head. The Ranking! No change! I'm not infatuated with this book but I'm still intrigued and enjoying it. So that's a review, right?

#Shade the Changing Girl #DC Comics #Cecil Castellucci #Marley Zarcone #Kelly Fitzpatrick #Young Animal