#banana boy and sc... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

everlarkedalways · 5 years

Photo

Welcome to the The Hunger Games Renaissance. I wanted to highlight active authors and writing blogs who are currently writing, creating, inspiring and posting. Check out, read, comment, like, reblog and follow these people! It’s how our fandom lives on!

THG Fanfiction Resources or Prompts Blogs

@everlarkbookclub

@everlarkficbackfriday

@everlarkficexchange

@everlarkficquestions

@everlarkprompts

@everlarkbirthdaydrabbles

@everlarkbirthdaygifts

@talesofpanem

Active Writers:

@alliswell21: Alliswell on AO3;

@archersandsunsets: Embers

@awhiskeyriver: Amelia Day on ao3 I am working on the Panem Nightlocks Series, Leave of Absence, and some new works :)

@awkwardeverlark: Here’s Cavedweller if you want to add :)

@butrfac14: heilb on AO3. Here’s a link to Look What Happens When You Agree To Babysit. I just posted the last chapter of Proving Them Wrong.

Buttercupbadass on AO3 (No Tumblr)

@chele20035: I’m actually working on my old fic, Brokenness....

@creamytinydays: Evvykurler on AO3; I’m active, with drabbles on tumblr and longer works posted on AO3, such as my complete multi-chapter Fluffaccino.

@dandeliononfire: dandeliononfire on AO3;

@deinde-prandium: I'm definitely still kicking (and screaming) but I do consider myself to be an active writer, yes. Just glacially slow ;)

@everlarkrealornot: katemiller on AO3

@everlarkstoastbabies: OfPearlsandShoelaces on AO3.

@flame6696: Embers

@finnicko-loves-anniec: Gamemakers on AO3 and FFN; My current WIP is Quicksilver

@historywriter2007: historywriter on AO3: I’m an active Everlark Author. I have a few WIP’s but I’ll post the last story I finished. The Banana Bread

@hpfanonezillion: HPfanonezillion on AO3 See Right Through My Walls

@hutchhitched: Hutchabelle on AO3; Find my fics on the sidebar of my blog as well.

@javistg: You can find most of my fics HERE. My latest update was the newest chapter of One Victor. You an also find my canon compliant post Mockingjay snapshots HERE.

@justajjfan: juststella I'm here and actively writing Everlark and posting updates when I can on AO3. I have 2 current WIP's - Duality and The Quiet Boy.

@katnissdoesnotfollowback: I am still actively writing and posting Everlark both here and on my AO3 account. Current WIP that I’m focusing on is the Outside Chance Series.

@louezem: still here, never left!

@lovely-tothe-bone: LovelyToTheBone on AO3 Feast Your Eyes

@mellarkablegirl: It’s comparatively fresh but I’m back to writing and my WIP and drabbles are in my blog @mellarkablegirl Also it’s linked to my Ao3

@michbigbagofweird: Bigbagofweird on ao3. It’s just one story. Seeking Single Blond Baker.

@mtk4fun: I just began posting a new multi-chapter fic called A Bump On The Head. You can find it on FF.net and Ao3. I also wrote an original romance story that will be published this fall in an anthology, Weird and Wonderful Holiday Romances.

@norbertsmom: Here’s a link to my most popular fic based on kudos. Peeta Hits the Jackpot. I’m norbertsmom on FFN and Norberts_Mom on AO3.

@panemposts: Notanislander on FF and AO3

@papofglencoe: 🙋🏻‍♀️ not dead yet! (Might pull through) Papofglencoe on AO3

@peetaspikelets: Pikelet184 on AO3; I’m still active, just not as much as I once was. Still working on my latest Everlark fic I did for fic exchange.

@ra3lynn3: Still here 🙋🏻‍♀️

@rosefyrefyre: Still writing fic, though concentrating more on original these days.The fic can be found here, the original can be found here.

@rosegardeninwinter: rosegardeninwinter on AO3; I post small drabbles here on tumblr: you can find them on my blog under #cate writes. I’m also on AO3. My current WIP is The Light and the Red.

@safeinpeetasarms: mrsbonniemellark on AO3; Sexiled is my most popular fic for sure and I’m working on the next chapter I promise!!

@savvylark: SavvyLark on AO3; WIPs are Heartbreakers, Crush It, and Feast Your Eyes

@shesasurvivor: It’s coming in spurts, but I still consider myself active. Probably my most popular WIP is The Tigers Come at Night, and my most popular oneshot is far and away Getting There.

@shining-city: shiningcity on AO3/FFN; My current WIP is Revolutionary. That, along with my completed works, are on AO3 and FF.net.

@sohypothetically: I still write and post. I'm not quite as active about fandom stuff, but I'm always up to reblog something interesting! And I love to promote/reblog good writing! Also, @ms2sl is still active.

@starsmahogany: starsmahogany on AO3. Fire Without a Flame

@tindomrl: I have a series of ongoing one shots on A03 called "Low and Soft"; however my current WIP is my Pink Rabbits series, about an all female-Hunger Games. the first story called "Dance of the Earth" follows the events of the first book in SC's original trilogy!

@wendywobbles: wendywobbles2016 on AO3; I’m currently working on a modern Everlark story with some ballroom dancing for added sparkle😊😊Let’s face the music and dance

@wingletblackbird: Thanks for the mention! Yes, I'm still active. Just writing really slowly now that I'm working two jobs. I was working on the next chapter to A Father Figure the day before yesterday, in fact.

Thank you to everyone for sharing and creating! If you missed the original post about actively writing, please reblog with your current WIP and AO3/FFN link if you’d like to be added.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlark fanfic #fanfic #thg #the hunger games #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #katniss #peeta #fanfic authors #fanfiction authors #fandom life #fandom

522 notes · View notes

loserholland · 5 years

Text

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠?

Pairing ➺ Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Warning ➺ nothin but fluff

Word Count ➺ 2,533

Summary ➺ Who knew getting the ‘talk’ by the Avengers would be so awkward?

A/N ➺ My request are open! They will be open till July 14 <3

Request ➺ hey, first can i just say i seriously love your writing? like youre insanely talented. anyway please can i request a peter parker x reader (preferably not dating but lots of tension bc they like each other) where the reader is tonys daughter and she helps peter get changed after spiderman duties and cap walks in and it looks ‘compromising’ and they get a really awkward sex talk from the avengers? like bucky and sam teasing peter and wanda and nat teasing the reader? thanks, dw if not though - anonbabe <3

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand, @taronxfiction, @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine, @spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou @babebenhardy @rivervixenbaby @acklesholland @zabdisamor @keepingupwiththehollands@sweet666pea @sspider-parker @jackiehollanderr @iloveyou3000morgan @random-things-i-love @caro0512

☞ Masterlist ☜

“To your left Parker.” (Y/N) spoke as she watched on the monitor as he aimed his webshooter towards the intruders, she bit into her apple watching as Peter dodged their punches and groaned lightly as the two intruders bumped heads with one another.

“I can see that babe.” Peter groaned continuing to fight off the guys that broke into a small restaurant in Queens.

It was a good thing Peter couldn’t see her flushed cheeks, though they weren’t dating she had gotten use to the cute pet-names. Anytime Peter was out on a mission, she was the guy well girl in the chair.

The first time she had helped guide him through a fight and watched his back she had joked, “I hope Ned isn’t jealous.”

“The cops are five minutes away, wrap this up underoos.” Peter rolled his eyes playfully at the fact she was using Tony’s nickname for him.

“Alright babe, wrapping it up.”

(Y/N) leaned back into her chair kicking her feet up to rest against the table in front of her, another days work done. Usually she’d be out there helping when her father was home but, he was currently in California so no missions until he’s back. Though he did allow her to help Peter, letting her be the girl in the chair.

“See you in 15.”

“See you in 15 Parker.”

She stood from the chair she had been sitting in for the past thirty minutes and stretched a little bit before exiting the room and headed for the kitchen. When Tony was out of town she was under the supervision of ‘Earth’s Mightiest Hero’s’. That also meant they enforced the rules when Tony was out of town, usually Nat and Steve were the one’s who were strict on Peter and (Y/N).

The last time Tony was out of town and (Y/N) had gone to a party she was about five minutes past the curfew Nat and Steve had given her. Which meant they had a talk with her about being aware of time and how they’re just worried about her, thankfully Wanda had came in to save her from the long lecture.

“Hey Nat.” (Y/N) chimed walking over to the fridge to grab two bottles of water, Peter would be back any minute so she planned to meet him outside.

“Hey, Parker back?” Nat questioned watching as she headed towards the door, “Yeah!” she shouted causing Nat to smile. If there was anything the rest of the Avenger’s knew, it was (Y/N) and Peter liked each other a lot yet never said one word to one another.

It was cute, like a third grade crush. She could see it in (Y/N) eyes whenever her and Peter were together or the way Peter would just stare at (Y/N) when she was fixing up her suit.

The moment Peter landed on the facility grounds (Y/N) was waiting for him with a bottle of water, “Good job tonight Parker.” she met him halfway handing him his bottle of water which he gladly accepted.

He removed his mask allowing his brunette curls to breathe, (Y/N) stared up at him in awe wanting to run her fingers through those soft curls. Her mind began to wander, the many thing’s she’d do if her and Peter were together. She didn’t even hear his question.

“Could you help me out of my suit?”

Peter waved his hand in front of (Y/N) face, she seemed to be out of it. Her mind was somewhere else at the moment. He continued to wave his hand in front of her face lightly.

“(Y/N)?”

I mean, they looked soft so they must be soft right? She wanted to cuddle with him and have him lay his head on her chest as she massaged his sc-

“(Y/N).”

She blinked a few times before responding, “Huh?” her cheeks were kissed by a small tint of red, oh was he talking the entire time? I didn’t hear a thing he said.

“I was asking if you could help me out of my suit.”

(Y/N) mouth formed an ‘oh’ he should know the answer to that already, she always helped him out when he came back from spidey duties. Why would tonight be any different?

“Y-yeah of course, we should head in then.”

Once the two got into Peter’s room, (Y/N) removed her jacket leaving her with a white sports bra. Peter had seen her in a sports bra before, but the thing was that certain sports bra. That white sports bra, it was one of his favorites. The way the color just made her skin glow against it, like it was sun-kissed.

“Any cuts or bruises that need tending to?” she headed for his bathroom to grab the first aid kit, opening the mirror cabinet to retrieve the small kit.

“Yeah, bruise near my torso.”

Steve walked into the kitchen greeting Nat before asking, “Did Peter get back?” she nodded responding “Yeah, he went to his room with (Y/N).” Steve raised his brows at Nat who just shrugged it off.

“I’ll go check in on them.”

(Y/N) stood in front of him, she leaned in a little her lips at any moment could kiss his. God how he’s been wanting to kiss her, to feel her lips on his. Though it didn’t happen. Yet

She raised her hand to press the spider logo on his chest causing his suit to fall around his feet. Peter stepped out of it as (Y/N) bent down to pick it up to fold it.

Steve swung open the door to Peter’s room to see (Y/N) face was a few inches away from Peter’s, well little Peter but big Peter was also naked half naked.

Peter looked down at (Y/N) with wide eyes before he backed away from her raising his hands up in the air, “I-It’s not what it looks like!” (Y/N) rolled her eyes lightly at the way Peter had reacted.

“Steve! Ever heard of knocking?”

He ignored what the two had to say and instead said “Uh, what’s that Bucky? I better go.” immediately shut the door and rushed back over to the kitchen to see the rest of the avenger’s were gathered around making themselves dinner.

Sam snickered at Steve’s expression, it looked like he saw a ghost.

“What’s up with you cap?”

“I think I just walked in on Peter and (Y/N) about to- yunno.”

They looked between one another then bursted out laughing, these two teenagers couldn’t have been possibly getting it on when they know anyone could walk in.

Though the laughter was slowly brought down when they noticed Steve wasn’t laughing along, “You’re not joking are you?” Nat questioned as Steve shook her head ‘no’.

“I guess we’ll just have to give them the talk.”

The next morning (Y/N) and Peter walked next to one another, (Y/N) was unbothered by last night but Peter was the complete opposite. He was a nervous wreck afraid Steve had told Tony and Tony was headed back to have Peter’s head for what didn’t even happen.

“Parker, calm down okay? It’s fine, just go work it off. We’ll meet back in an hour or two for lunch.”

Peter nodded stopping in front of the gym door opening it slightly, “I’m guessing you’ll be in the kitchen with Nat and Wanda?” (Y/N) nodded waving him off to enter the gym watching as he entered before walking away.

He sighed lightly closing his eyes for a brief moment, “Just work it off.” he thought opening his eyes to see Bucky and Sam standing in front of him. Peter jumped back placing his hands on his chest, “Sam, Bucky. Didn’t see you guys there.” walking past the two and headed over to the bench press.

“So Parker, rumor has it that you have a crush on (Y/N) Stark.” Sam teased walking over to stand beside the bench press wearing a little smirk on his lips, Peter stared at the two with wide eyes before sitting up right.

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Bucky shook his head lightly before pointing out, “You’re lying, your voice just went up a few octaves.” Peter groaned lightly, damn it.

“Now, we feel that since Cap informed us on what he witnessed yesterday-”

“It wasn’t what it-”

Sam waved his index finger from side to side, “No, no the adults are talking. Now we feel that it’s our responsibility to give you the talk.”

These two? Yeah they’ll give out the wrong information.

“I-I think I’m good, I already learned about it in health class.”

“Well, no we’re giving you the talk now. First of all, how to avoid pregnancy...”

(Y/N) hummed as she walked into the kitchen greeting Nat and Wanda “Good morning.” grabbing a banana and a small bottle of orange juice, once (Y/N) started eating the banana Nat piped “I heard Steve nearly walked in on you and Peter doing that.”

She choked lightly on the banana moving over to the trash to spit it out, “What?!” Wanda patted on the seat that was between her and Nat motioning for (Y/N) to take a sit.

“(Y/N) hun, I know that right now your hormones are everywhere and you maybe want to experience things but-” (Y/N) shook her head at Wanda “No, no we are not having the talk! I’ve been through it!”

Nat snickered “From last night, I think we need to have it again. I know you like Peter-” (Y/N) opened her mouth to speak but Nat was quick to cut her off “No, don’t even deny that you have feelings for him.”

She slouched in her chair glaring at Nat, “I don’t know what Steve told you but, I was just helping Peter out of his suit and was going to tend to his bruise! Steve needs to learn how to knock!”

“So how long have you liked (Y/N) spidey boy?” Sam teased watching Peter attempt to hide his blush, he’s had a crush on her ever since Tony had introduced him to her.

“Ever since I met her.” he mumbled, Sam and Bucky looked between one another they had caught what he said but wanted him to say it again. “What was that?”

“Ever since I met her!” Peter repeated not looking at the two who were teasing him for the past thirty minutes.

“Awe did you tell her you like her?!” Sam said in a high pitched voice blinking his eyes at Peter in attempts to make it look like he was fluttering his lashes.

“No. She wouldn’t like a dork like me, she’s way out of my league.”

“You’re not wrong spi-”

Bucky elbowed Sam glaring at him for even saying what he wanted to say, “Peter, look she likes you. I’ve seen it, the way she looks at you she feels the same way. Plus I’ve heard you call her babe or princess. If she didn’t like you she wouldn’t allow you to call her that.”

“I like him a lot, he’s so funny and understanding and doesn’t see me as ‘Tony Stark’s daughter’ he see’s me as me, (Y/N). Whenever I’m having a bad day he’s there to make it better. He makes my day and night.”

“He stares at you with such awe (Y/N), he’s a keeper.” Wanda commented causing (Y/N) to bury her face in her hands to hide her blush.

(Y/N) looked down at her watch any moment now her and Peter would leave to get lunch.

“Peter and I were planning on getting lunch.” (Y/N) announced hopping off of her chair Nat smiled “Go on then, and maybe tell him how you feel.” (Y/N) nodded before heading out to the door.

Meet me outside. Sent

Peter looked down at his phone to see (Y/N) had texted him, “Shoot, sorry guys (Y/N) and I are going out to lunch right now. Uh thanks for the talk?” Peter got up from the bench pressed and headed for the door.

“Hey spidey!” Sam called before Peter could exit the gym, Peter looked back for a brief moment “Tell her how you feel. Don’t disappoint us.” with that Peter rushed out the doors.

He was going to tell her, he was going to tell her how he felt.

“Hey!” Peter shouted as he jogged towards (Y/N), her brows pinched in confusion “Hey, you didn’t work out?” she questioned noticing that Peter was still wearing the same clothes. Usually after working out he takes a quick shower and changes out of his workout clothes.

“No actually, Sam and Bucky gave me the ‘talk’.”

(Y/N) chuckled lightly brushing the piece of hair that flew in her face behind her ear, “Funny, Nat and Wanda did the same thing.” the rest of the avenger’s gathered around the window watching the two teenager’s.

“I wanted to tell you something.” Peter and (Y/N) said in a unison, “No you go first.” they repeated before a light laughter erupted from (Y/N) chest, “Lady’s first.” Peter offered causing her to sigh lightly.

“Okay well, I remember the day I first met you. At first I thought my dad would pay attention to you more than he would me, so I thought I’d hate you. Until we started talking more and found out we have a lot in common. I was never good at being honest with my feelings and I’m just here to say that, I like you a lot Peter. You make my day, you understand me more than myself.”

Peter stood there for a moment, holy shit Sam and Bucky were right! They were fucking right!

“Peter?” (Y/N) questioned as she waved her hand in front of his face, panic began to settle in.

“Peter please say something.” (Y/N) whispered.

“I like you too, holy shit you like me too! I honestly never thought you’d like me because I’m a huge dork! You’re also way out of my league and deserve way better than me but holy shit you like me too! I-I like you too. I said that already, now I’m ramb-”

(Y/N) stood on her toes and placed her hand on the back of his nape placing her lips on his shutting Peter up, “They kissed!” Sam shouted as Bucky slapped the back of his neck “We can see that.”

You know how they say when you kiss someone, you could feel some sort of electricity? Like fireworks? As cliche as it sounds that’s exactly what they felt. It was slow yet filled with so much passion.

(Y/N) pulled away lightly before resting her forehead against his, she closed her eyes for a moment before asking “They’re watching aren’t they?” Peter chuckled then said “Yeah, on the count of three we’ll look at them. One. Two. Three.” Peter and (Y/N) looked up at the gang who quickly backed away from the window.

“Do you think they saw us?” Nat questioned watching as Wanda peeked to see if they were still staring at the window, (Y/N) was waving up at the window.

“Yeah, they saw us.”

(Y/N) intwined her hand with Peter’s, “Let’s go to lunch.”

Who knew Steve walking in on them could lead to such a great thing?

#peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n

453 notes · View notes

monikafilefan · 5 years

Note

Mulder teaches Scully to ride a bike (or Scully teaches Mulder)

This was so fun to write and I’m happy I was finally able to break through my writers block with this gem. I hope you like my attempt at humor!

Tagging @today-in-fic

——

“Mulder, I think I’ve changed my mind.”

“But you haven’t even tried it yet,” he states the obvious as her hands unclench the handlebars. His supportive grip slips away from the curve of her waist and he can’t hide his disappointment.

He watches her suck her plump bottom lip between her teeth and shuffle away from the wheel. She’s nervous, he notices now, and can’t fight off the instant surge of affection for his strong and fearless partner.

“Come on, Scully, I promise I’ll be right here to catch you,” he assures with a smirk.

She scoffs with fists on her hips and glares up at him through the gleaming summer sun. She’s wearing an old Bureau tee that accentuates her fit, sinewy frame and her jaw-length russet hair is pulled back in a low pony, punctuating the seriousness of this moment for her. She’s prepared - and though Mulder will never admit it aloud - he finds it utterly adorable.

“I’m not incapable, you know. I just… have trouble getting started once I’m seated is all.”

The playful stakeout conversation of childhood quirks leading up to this event was one that had both shocked and tickled Mulder. Learning that her rainbow tasseled bike with the banana seat and training wheels still attached was the last one she’d ever ridden, had him promptly tucking that golden nugget of information away for a perfect day such as this.

He nods with hands up, surrendering to her annoyance. “I have never once thought of you as incapable, Scully. Quite the opposite, in fact,” he confesses and feels the truth of his words coloring his golden skin.

“Well, that’s comforting, I suppose,” she says softly, arching a brow while allowing one of her rare, toothy smiles of appreciation for him to light up her sun-kissed face. “I have been known to save your ass on occasion throughout the last six years.”

“You won’t hear me disputing that fact, partner. I’d shout it throughout the bullpen if I thought anyone would care enough to listen to what ole Spooky had to say.” He watches her flush and turn her face into the breeze to calm it. If Mulder were bold enough, reckless, he might just lean down and press a kiss to each bronze-colored freckle peppering the apples of her cheeks. “It’s just that tomboy Dana Scully not being able to ride a bike seems like such a shame.”

“Mulder…” she huffs, facing him curiously. “I’ve never told you I was a tomboy growing up.”

Logically, Mulder already knows why she hasn’t mentioned this fun fact about herself. One, they only share personal details of their past when confronted head on. For self-preservation, most likely. To keep the professional status quo when their deeper feelings begin to bubble too close to the surface.

At least that’s what he does.

Two, he finally understands that even a strong, serious woman who chooses to fight ferociously as an equal among peers in a male dominated profession, might also want to be seen as feminine as possible when more personal opportunities present themselves.

“No,” he agrees, “you haven’t.”

“My mother.” Her statement is one of realization for Scully. He can tell she doesn’t know what reflective moment spurred on by tragedy in which her mother may have divulged childhood details to him, but the wistful look on her face leads him to believe she’s silently grateful for it. “Okay, then. Show me how it’s done, Yoda.”

He chuckles. “Oh, Scully, you hit me with a Star Wars reference and I’ll do just about anything for you.” Something flickers in her gaze that sends heat churning in his gut. He clears his throat as she runs the tip of her tongue across her rosebud lips and adds, “but Star Trek is more up my alley.”

“I’ll write that down for next time.”

Mulder waves her closer and nudges her hip playfully. “Come young Jedi, there is much to learn, there is.”

Scully grins, rolling her eyes and urges him on. He straddles the center bar of his old mountain bicycle he’s had in storage for nearly seven years, and pops the kick stand. With one sneaker on the pedal and the other pushing off the paved bike path, Mulder’s long legs whirl in a tight circle.

And he’d be lying to himself if his ego weren’t beginning to take over and push him to impress the woman he loves.

“See, you just shift your weight like this...” he hollers over his shoulder and pumps his legs harder with a sway of his hips, watching Scully in the distance as she points at something ahead of him. “...and then keep your balance as you—ah, oh shi—”

His words are cut off with a sudden jolt thrusting him toward the front wheel wedged within a pothole, handlebars twisting inward. Before he can catch his balance, his knees buckle, careening his hips down to connect with the only thing separating him from the pavement: the metal bar jutting out between his legs.

His crotch connects with force, sending a full 176lbs of meat, muscle, and bone down on his manhood.

“Mulder!”

Searing pain shoots up through his balls and into his groin. “Ah, fuck!”

His vision swims with burning tears as he slumps forward, breathless. He tentatively raises himself off the offending bar and appropriately crumples into the grass with a whimper.

He barely registers the clang of metal and aluminum hitting the hot pavement.

“Mulder,” Scully breathes out next to him. She’s here; touching him, soothing his pride. She caresses his cheek with what he’s deciphered over the years as sympathy as she needlessly asks, “Oh, Mulder, you took a bar to the groin, didn’t you?”

His gut clenches as a wave of nausea washes over him like a tidal wave in response.

Mulder swings his head away from his partner’s crouch to gag and spit pathetically on a nearby ant hill. Scully has shot him; seen his body and mind exposed; watched him bleed; held him as he cried; talked him out of shooting himself with holes in his head; and had taken vigil at his hospital bed too many times to count. But she has not and will not witness him lose what’s left of his breakfast all over her pristinely white Keds as he writhes in the dirt.

“Just take a deep breath for me,” she encourages. “That’s it.”

He groans deeply after swallowing back the precursor for puke. Carefully cupping his balls and penis, making sure the three important things currently thrumming with pain are still whole and intact between his thighs, he croaks, “I think broke my… my lightsaber.”

He hears her huff out a laugh and cluck her tongue. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, Mulder.”

“Maybe we’re better off if you teach me how to ride the Scully way,” he jests, meeting her soft, baby blue gaze as she hovers above. “I think we work best together that way, don’t you?”

She shrugs. “Oh I don’t know, Mulder.” Her warm hand slides around the back of his neck and helps pull him up to his knees. “I kind of like the way you ride, too.”

Mulder winces with a hand still awkwardly soothing the pang in his balls and his stomach roils. “Ugh…”

“Okay, let me take a look.” He gives her bug-eyed expression. She seems to wrestle with a decision in her mind and then gives him a determined nod. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

“Wh-why? They're still there. Trust me, I feel them.”

She sighs and knee walks around to face him. He’s hunching slightly on his knees, gripping both his crotch and his waist in intermittent agony.

Scully gives his arm a sympathetic squeeze. “It’s rare, but if you have serious damage to your testicals or penis, then I’ll be taking you to the hospital instead of home.”

“Sonofabitch.” His face flushes with embarrassment. He cannot believe his attempt to do something remotely sweet for his best friend will end with him icing his nuts on his couch alone tonight.

“Come on, just a peek,” she smirks, and he can’t help but grin in return. If he has to endure a shot to the boys in order for her to offer up her own innuendo, he’ll gladly take it every time.

With no one else around, Mulder reluctantly nods and slowly removes his hand, gesturing that it’s okay for her to slip into doctor mode.

Her slender fingers curl around the elastic, tickling the fine hair line above his groin, and helps him shuck down the front of his boxer briefs.

A cool, gentle breeze sweeps across his genitals and he hisses at the exposure. He looks down to see Scully’s red head poised just inches above his dick. Suddenly, a thought he’s completely neglected to consider during his bout of pain slams into him. Her proximity alone can make him hard. And this… this will be bad.

“Sc-Scully?” he rasps, feeling himself twitch to life. “Um—”

“—are they usually… uh, are you usually this… engorged during activity, Mulder?” Her voice is thick, honeyed, and it sends a tsunami of blood rushing downward.

“What?” You… well I’m not sure,” he shrugs, desperately attempting to think of anything that will salve off the rapid growth of an erection.

A puff of warm breath blows across the swell of him and fingernails gently scrape at his thigh.

Frohike. Skinner in a skirt. Byers wearing an apron…

When her soft fingertips graze the underside of his swelling cock, it’s too late. Mulder’s harder than he’s ever been, and the pain in his balls now is instantly gone.

The pain is gone.

“You’re fine.” Scully clears her throat, rocks up to her feet and quickly motions for him to pull up his shorts. He obeys, dumbstruck and too aroused to speak.

Risking a glance, Mulder notices that her once sun-kissed cheeks are now tomato red, and her sweat dappled chest is heaving.

“Thanks…” He stands, chagrined at the large bulge protruding proudly through his shorts. He mumbles, “I appreciate it.”

“Well,” Scully starts with a smile pulling at her mouth, “don’t say I never did anything for ya.”

“You… you did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

She picks up the bike and wheels it over, grinning. “I am a doctor, Mulder. I was just hoping it would work, you know with me being… well me,” she says shyly, attempting to mask her uncertainty of his physical attraction for her.

“Of course it worked. In fact, you work far too well far too often if you must know.”

Their eyes dance coyly together in the sunlight. Something new and simmering passes between them. Another golden nugget of intimacy to save for later.

“So...” She breaks the gaze and swings a leg over the bicycle seat. “Am I riding this death trap back to the car, or are you?”

Mulder laughs, slipping his hands back around the dip in her waist, fingers grasping at the velvet skin peeking out beneath her shirt, and leans in close.

“Teach you, I will.”

“Don’t push it, Yoda,” she tosses back with a smirk. “I’d much rather have my partner teach me to ride the Spooky way. Lightsaber and all.”

——

#msr fanfic #humor i think #UST #thoughtful Mulder #Scully has tricks

91 notes · View notes

firewoodfigs · 4 years

Text

chapter 4 of a slow unravelling is up ^_^

read on ao3

some farewells are eternal, others temporal

At age thirteen, Roy Mustang’s world was made up of thick, complicated books, pesky friends who bugged him to fix things for them and sisters who praised him for the little trinkets he transmuted, for this was the nature of most young alchemists learning to be proficient in the art. And while he enjoyed every glorious minute of it, he was admittedly starting to get restless, as most boys his age would from being trapped in a routine. For the most part, though, Roy was content to deal with it quietly - patience was a virtue alchemists had to master, after all - and so he tried to view these mundane days in Central as honing his craft, as delusional as it might have been.

It therefore came as no surprise that he immediately jumped at the opportunity to be shipped off to some unknown town for months - years, even, because the prospect of breaking out of said routine was both terrifying and exhilarating all at once, and Roy had always been the naive, adventurous sort of young lad anyway.

“You in there, Roy-boy?”

“Yes! What’s up, Aunt Chris?” Roy piped up in his squeaky, prepubescent voice as she opened the door. His aunt waltzed into his bedroom, frowning in disapproval when she noticed the books strewn around everywhere in a mess. He smiled sheepishly, but noted that her eyes were slightly red-rimmed - whether from alcohol or from crying, he wasn’t sure, but he took it as his cue to start cleaning up a little (or at least pretend to).

“I have a proposal,” she began. He peered up at her curiously from a particularly dusty tome. “How’d you like to learn alchemy under a certain Berthold Hawkeye?”

Roy’s eyes widened. Though his mouth was open, words eluded him and he didn’t quite know how to react to such shocking, yet exciting news. “I suppose that’s a yes?”

“Yes, yes! Of course!” he grinned from ear to ear, the thought of finally having a master sending him giddy with enthusiasm.

But suddenly he remembered: hadn’t that girl with the awful punch and her mother come from the countryside all those years ago? “Doesn’t he live quite far away from Central, though?”

“That’s right. They live in Tobha, so you’ll be staying with them during your apprenticeship.” Roy pouted glumly. “Oh, don’t look so down, boy,” Christmas said, although her heart clenched traitorously at the thought of sending her precious nephew away. “You can come back and visit anytime. And this is too good of an opportunity to let slip, no?”

He nodded thoughtfully. It was a golden opportunity, and the sudden offer was like an answered prayer.

“Then get packing, Roy-boy. We’ll leave in a few days.” As soon as she uttered those words and left, Roy set about packing immediately, excitement rushing through his veins at the thought of a new beginning.

~x~

On the other hand, Riza’s disdain towards alchemy only grew stronger as the days passed after her mother’s death. The incident that solidified her resolve to stave off alchemy was when she’d brought up the delicate topic of human transmutation to her father at her mother’s grave - something she’d only come across once in her life when her mother had tried to teach her alchemy, but never dared to try.

It turned out to be the most unwise decision, if her father’s rage was any indication to go by. The ultimate taboo, he’d called it. Sacrilegious - she didn’t understand what that word meant, but it must have been something bad. He had simply said that it ‘trespassed the territory of God’ and left it at that.

Riza’s father had never struck her as a religious man, though, so this only aggravated her confusion. Nevertheless, she learnt to never bring it up again, and though she was only all of ten she’d already come to learn that no amount of praying or wishing would bring her beloved mother back.

For the most part, therefore, she spent her days with her sobs and books and sniffles in the isolated quietness of her room. Once or twice, her father might have tried to console her, but his cold, callused hand was unlike her mother’s warm, loving one and provided little comfort.

Occasionally, she would leave the house for the grocer’s with the meagre lot of money her father left behind on the table. But interacting with the townsfolk, Riza found, only worsened the loneliness she felt. Though condolences were offered and sympathies were strewn around, as if distributing some kind of largesse, they were but meaningless platitudes that did nothing to quell the ache in her heart.

She’d come to realise, soon enough, that she very much preferred solitude to company. Unfortunately, her father had informed her that he had another apprentice on the way, and while she’d been terrorised by the previous one she suppressed her fear and simply agreed noncommittally over dinner when he’d asked her to pick them up upon their arrival.

Sighing, Riza sat on the battered swing in their backyard, clutching onto the loosening ropes tightly - as if doing so would preserve whatever was left of her childhood innocence - wishing her mother was still around to play with her and protect her from whatever monsters lurked around in their home.

~x~

“Call. Write. Visit.” Vanessa said sharply, already feeling Roy’s absence. Not that she would ever admit out loud that she was going to miss him: he could be a total pain in the ass, as all brothers were prone to being.

She stepped back to admire her handiwork once more before he boarded the train. Vanessa had taken it upon herself to dress Roy up for his departure and successfully transformed him into a clean, refined boy instead of the scruffy heathen that he generally was, and felt rather proud of the end result.

Roy grinned, not missing her hidden message. “I’m gonna miss you too,” and he reached out to mess with her splendid curls.

She grumbled. “Not the hair!” Roy laughed and hopped onto the train quickly with his aunt before she could get her revenge.

“I’ll see you soon!” He waved excitedly to Vanessa and his other sisters as the train began to depart Central.

Roy sank into the squeaking, rather uncomfortable seat with his aunt, opting for chips and soda for a midway snack while Christmas politely declined.

The thought of having to stand before Victoria’s grave already made her queasy, and she doubted she would be able to stomach anything much.

“Are you okay, auntie?”

“Yeah,” she replied, a weak smile gracing her tired features.

Roy remained unconvinced. His aunt clearly looked bothered, and it hadn’t just been this afternoon. “It’s just…” she paused, massaging her temples a little. “Do you remember Victoria?” Roy nodded.

Christmas sighed. It was hard to explain the concept of death to a thirteen-year-old, but Roy was no ordinary boy. Having lost his parents at such a young age he was well-acquainted with the concept, and in any case he’d studied enough alchemy to understand that the dead didn’t come back from their grave. “She… she died a couple of weeks ago, Roy.”

And suddenly, it clicked. Roy was well capable of taking care of himself despite his relatively tender age, and while he was not the most skilful cook around he would have honestly content to survive on country loaf and a quenched thirst for knowledge.

It wasn’t so much sending him off, as much as it was sending Victoria - the lady he thought he might have bumped into once more in Tobha - off. A chance for her to say her last goodbyes.

“I’m sorry, auntie,” he whispered, leaning over to give her a loose hug as she combed her fingers through his hair.

“I’m okay, boy. Just… make sure you work hard and study well, hm?” Roy nodded vigorously. “And one more thing. Take good care of her daughter, will you?”

Roy flushes in embarrassment, nose wrinkling at the unpleasant memory of the last time he’d met that girl.

Nonetheless, he relents. Anything to make Aunt Chris feel better.

~x~

By the time they arrived the sky was a pretty palette of turquoise and purple, white clouds streaking across delicately like gossamer ribbons. Unhindered by the influx of tall buildings that were Central’s trademark, one could easily see the flickering stars paying a routine prelude to the evening-time that was dawning upon Tobha.

Roy paused for a moment to admire the raffish charm of the rustic countryside, and as he did so he caught a whiff of coffee and bananas welcoming him from the small bakery nestled inconspicuously at the corner of the train station. Despite the countryside’s beauty, though, the atmosphere felt more melancholic than peaceful, and this much was certainly reinforced by the mournful contrition buried within his aunt’s frown.

He reached over to squeeze his aunt’s hand tightly, wishing he could console her somehow.

Some farewells were temporary, like theirs, but others were permanent. Roy knew, from the grief splayed across her face in shades of grey, that a part of herself had dived down six feet under and died with her as well - an eternal farewell, a final ode to her short and enigmatic life.

“Thanks, Roy. Let’s go - wouldn’t want to keep a girl waiting.” Christmas raised her chin to draw Roy’s attention to the scrawny girl seated at the rugged bench on the other end of the train station.

His aunt nudged him to go over to where she was seated, and as the distance between them gets closer Roy realises that her hair was now a lot shorter than he remembered (not that he had a crush on her or anything - it was just difficult to forget the face of the first girl who had punched him for trying to do something nice). It was now a rough, hewn mane, falling somewhere around her chin, and though he figured she would have sent a baleful glare his way by now she seemed lost in thought, sorrow resting on her shoulders like an unwanted shawl.

“Hello, Riza. Thank you for waiting for us,” Christmas tapped her lightly on her shoulder, breaking her out of her reverie. She stood immediately to bow, a little ashamed at herself for being so distracted.

“Not at all. Uh…” Riza scrambled for her name, trying to recall what her mother had called her all those years ago.

“Just call me Aunt Chris, Riza. And this is my nephew - if you remember?”

“Roy Mustang,” he offered with the friendliest smile he could muster, but her propensity to respond with an odd mix of distance and disdain still remained intact after all those years - to him, at least.

“Um, yes. Sorry about that,” Riza says to his aunt, averting her gaze from his. “Shall we go?”

The trio walked together in companionable silence, Riza maintaining a distance from the both of them as she shrank into herself. Roy thought she looked no older than ten, but there was a certain air of maturity - the kind that was forged from hardship and turmoil - around her that didn’t sit well with him.

“Ah, Riza - was it?” came the unfamiliar voice of a stranger halfway through their journey. “I’m sorry about your loss, your mother was a great person,” he offered, but though sympathy laced his condolence there was a sort of half-heartedness to it.

“Thank you,” Riza murmured listlessly as she continued to move ahead.

Roy wondered how many times the girl had heard these senseless platitudes by now. Guilt lingered on the tip of his tongue as he ambled along, unsure of how to comfort the younger girl. Ordinarily, he would have opted for giving his sisters a hug or something along the lines, but they were very tactile and fond of his hugs. Riza, though, was anything but.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Hey… are you alright?”

What a dumb question - clearly she’s not.

“Yes,” she replied, as if out of instinct. Of course she wasn’t going to divulge her feelings to someone she’d only been acquainted with for a grand total of a few hours. Roy kicked himself mentally, though he was thankful that his Aunt had declined to remark on his stupidity.

“On that note, Riza… could we stop by your mother’s grave first?”

“O-of course, Aunt Chris. It’s… it’s in our backyard, so it’s on the way.” They continued the journey in a relatively peaceful quiet.

~x~

Roy was both awestruck and mortified by the weather-beaten mansion that stood before his eyes. It was big, isolated - unlike the cramped cluster of buildings he’d grown up surrounded by in Central - and reminded him a little of a haunted mansion. The bushy, unkempt backyard only served to reinforce his unease, but he wisely kept his mouth shut as they arrived before the lonely tombstone decorated with wilting carnations and peonies.

He’d only ever seen Victoria once, and so grief didn’t hit him as hard - if barely at all. But his heart certainly ached seeing the way devastation devoured his aunt and Riza; how it darkened their eyes with a gloomy, sullen grey like the clouds above them.

The sky rumbled faintly, and he felt the barest hint of a raindrop on his neck - once, twice - but he knew this was nothing compared to the weight pressing on their sunken shoulders.

Roy watched as his aunt closed her eyes wearily, inhaling the faint scent of sandalwood around them. Her eyes watered as she heaved, inexplicable grief consuming her. Quietly, he reached out to intertwine his stubby hands with her callused ones.

The girl, on the other hand, stood proudly with a somewhat impassive expression, but she was biting her lip - hard - to keep from crying out loud. Her bottom lip quivered, her body trembled, and Roy’s other hand intuitively went to rest on her shoulder in what he thought was a comforting gesture.

Except she flinched violently like he’d burnt her.

“Sorry,” they both apologised hurriedly at the same time. Immediately he retracted his hand and stepped away from her, wondering if he’d done something wrong.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Riza jumped. She tapped on Christmas’ shoulder lightly. “We should go inside before we get caught in the storm.” As soon as she said that rain began pelting down viciously, unwelcomingly, and so she ushered them into the kitchen through the back door.

“Father’s in his room, but I’m sure you’ll meet him tomorrow morning…” she whispered as she poured tea for them, the prospect of having to enter his temple only served to unsettle her already troubled frame of mind further.

“That’s quite alright, it’s already getting late,” Roy said as he rose to help her bring the cups over to the oaken dining table, taking extra care to avoid any kind of physical contact with her. Friendly, but not touchy… “Have you had dinner, by the way?”

Riza nodded shyly as she followed him back to the table, warming her fingers with her own cup of tea.

“Thank you, Riza,” Christmas hummed appreciatively at the soothing drink. “You’re probably sick of hearing apologies and condolences, so I’ll refrain from doing so...” Riza said nothing, only stared placidly at the table top as she fiddled with the hem of her plain black dress. “Although - how are you coping, child?”

“I’m… I’m fine, thank you,” she muttered quietly. The rain was beginning to subside into a light shower, but even then Roy found that it had the effect of almost drowning out her quiet voice.

“Are you sure?”

Riza nodded, keeping her eyes trained on her cup.

Christmas sighed wistfully at the awareness that she, like her mother, was a stubborn one who would neither budge nor talk readily about matters of the heart. She decided to let it slide. “Alright… if you need anything just…” she paused, unsure of herself - she wished there was more she could have done for the girl, but she had to return to Central soon. “Just call me, or let Roy know.”

Roy caught the meaningful look his aunt gave him and nodded imperceptibly. Though he wasn’t particularly fond of the girl he took his duty to be civil - friendly, even - to her very seriously, and growing up with a swarm of women around him had developed an almost innate desire in him to protect the opposite sex.

“O-okay. Thank you, Aunt Chris.”

“Not at all. Alright, I should probably get going.” The drizzle had stopped, and she’d finished her tea. “Thank you for picking us up and for the tea, Riza.” She reached over to pat Riza fondly on the head.

Riza blushed slightly before excusing herself to fetch an umbrella for the older woman.

“So soon, auntie?” Roy pouted. Please don’t leave me alone with this girl.

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to miss the last train.” Christmas pulled her nephew into a suffocating hug despite his muffled protests. “Take care, you silly boy. And take care of Riza, too.”

He nodded solemnly just as Riza returned with a blue umbrella. “Here you go, Aunt Chris, in case it starts raining again.”

“Thanks, Riza. You’re very sweet.”

Red mottled her cheeks with renewed vigour, and she ducked slightly to hide it. It’d only been a couple of weeks since her mother’s passing, but already Riza felt like an eternity had passed since she’d been privy to such open, unfettered affection.

Christmas bent down slightly to reach her eye level. “Take care, Riza. Don’t hesitate to contact me if my idiot nephew does anything stupid, or if he bothers you in any way.”

“Hey!” Roy sputtered indignantly. Riza couldn’t help but chuckle faintly at the offer, and nodded in acquiescence.

“Right. I’ll be making a move first, kids. See you all soon.” Riza led them to the front door with a small smile. She liked the woman - she was funny, and every sliver of roughness was accompanied by a niceness that showed itself to the observant.

“Bye,” they chorused.

The two children found themselves standing awkwardly beside each other after Christmas left.

To Roy’s surprise, it was Riza who broke the silence first. “I’ll… I’ll show you to your room.” She began walking wordlessly, placing a careful distance between them. Roy trailed behind her with his bag, a brief smile gracing his features as the recollection of doing the same in a quaint cake shop years ago came back to him.

Riza shuddered when they arrived at the room, the disconcerting memory of a dastardly apprentice hitting her like a pile of bricks. She swallowed, trying to convince herself that she could take out the weedy boy beside her if push came to shove. Or at the very least, punch him in the nose or complain to his aunt that he was being a nuisance.

“Are you alright?” Roy asked, for the second time that day.

“Yes. I’ll leave you to rest... Mr. Mustang.”

His nose wrinkled in disgust. That makes me sound like some kind of ancient... grandfather…

Before he could protest, though, Riza had already scurried away, leaving him alone with his unspoken objection.

Roy sighed as he entered the room - it was surprisingly neat and empty, cleaned to sparkling perfection - and dropped his bag on the creaking, wooden floor before flopping on the bed.

It had been a long day. Roy wanted nothing more to sleep, but the ceiling overhead suddenly seemed infinitely interesting - the only companion to the thoughts flooding his adolescent brain.

Already, he felt himself missing his aunt and his sisters. Growing up surrounded by noise and chatter meant that he was unaccustomed to such quiet solitude, but he had a nagging feeling that this was the very nature of the Hawkeye manor, if the girl’s personality was any indication. She was painfully reserved, and he wasn’t quite sure how he was going to break the ice, much less take care of her like his aunt had tasked him to. Any attempt at conversation had been nothing short of pathetic, and he highly doubted that anything beyond acquaintanceship was even possible.

Roy didn’t sleep well that night. Worry addled his poor mind, and though he’d tried to distract himself with alchemical theories the sun was already beginning to rise when he cracked his eyes open again.

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #a slow unravelling #me: hi I wrote a royai fic #also me: no royai for two chapters #but I finally reunited them!!#much to Riza's displeasure #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #madame christmas #victoria grumman

10 notes · View notes

ritualmichael · 6 years

Text

Breakfast in Bed - Dad!Michael

just a lil thank you since i hit 2.4k! michael and his son make y/n breakfast in bed because they just love her so much.

warnings: possible baby fever, im sorry.

It was early. It was too early yet there Michael was, being pulled from his sleep by a tiny finger poking his cheek. He groaned sleepily, grabbing the small hand in his larger one, pulling it away from his face. Blinking a few times, he adjusted to the light and saw his son perched on his stomach, peering down at him with his wide, blue eyes. In any other situation he would’ve been annoyed by being woken up at such an early hour, but he couldn’t resist the way his tiny copy looked at him.

Giving him a tired smile, Michael pulled him down to lay next to him and his son quickly found the perfect spot at his side, his head on his shoulder as he looked up brightly at his father.

“Good morning, little man,” Michael whispered, careful to not wake you as you slept soundly with your back to the pair.

“You said we could make breakfast for Mommy,” he said, mimicking Michael’s soft whisper and completely disregarding a greeting, clearly very serious about his order of business.

“I did, didn’t I?” Michael said, rubbing his tired eyes and his son watched him intently, always fascinated by the things Michael did.

“Uh huh,” the boy agreed, climbing off of Michael and grabbing his hand, weakly trying to pull him up as he climbed off of the bed. “C’mon,” he pleaded.

Michael climbed out of the bed carefully, trying not to wake you up from the sudden shift in weight on the mattress. He grabbed a shirt, quickly tugging it over his head and followed his son as his tiny legs hurriedly carried him to the kitchen. He beat Michael there, already setting up his small stool in front of the counter so that he could reach.

“I want fruit loops,” he said to Michael when he walked in, seeing his son trying to reach for the cabinet but miserably failing.

“What happened to making breakfast?” Michael asked, grabbing the cereal box and handing it to him. He opened another cabinet, getting out two bowls.

“Thats for Mommy, not us,” he declared as if Michael had asked the most obvious question ever. It made the man chuckle, retrieving the milk from the fridge.

“I see,” he said, letting his son carefully pour cereal for the both of them into each of the bowls, but pouring the milk himself. There had been too many accidents in the past, Michael had learned his lesson about letting his son pour liquids.

Lifting his small body up onto the counter, Michael set his son down and sat next to him, their legs dangling off of the counter as they both ate their cereal. He reached over, showing his son how to properly hold his spoon, silently nodding in approval as he chewed.

The pair sat quietly as they both ate, mouths too full to speak. It blew Michael’s mind at how much his son could eat, nearly finishing his plates before either of his parents ever could.

When they were finished, Michael helped the boy down from the counter and he pattered after his dad as he made his way to the sink, setting his bowl down inside. His son held up his bowl up to him, not quite able to reach the sink yet.

“Thank you,” Michael said, taking his bowl and quickly washing the two of them. His son made it his responsibility to grab the milk, screwing the lid on tightly and putting it back in the same spot in the fridge where he had watched Michael grab it from. Michael admired how much he always wanted to help.

“So, what do you want to make?” Michael asked as he looked in the fridge for ideas. His son clung to his side, peering in as well.

“Pancakes?” he asked excitedly, peering up at his dad for approval. Michael nodded at the idea, beginning to grab some things they would need for the batter, handing a few things to his son.

“If we make these do you promise to be extra careful around the stove? You know our rules,” Michael asked, arranging all of the ingredients and tools on the counter. You both always made it a point to teach your son about dangerous things such as hot pans, he was too precious to the two of you to take any risks.

“Don’t grab the handle and don’t touch the top,” he recited, earning a proud smile from Michael, the man reaching down and ruffling his already messy hair.

“Good,” Michael said, beginning to pour some things in a bowl and pushed it over to where his son was standing on his stool. “Stir it carefully,” he instructed, handing him a spoon.

He securely held the bowl as his son whisked the ingredients, his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration. He pointed out a few spots that needed more mixing, the boy eagerly fixing the issue.

“Why do they call them pancakes if they don’t have icing?” his son inquired as he watched, from a safe distance, as Michael poured the batter into the sizzling pan. He was always asking questions that Michael had never even thought of.

“Good point,” Michael chuckled, trying to keep the batter in a perfect circle as it cooked. “I guess because they’re made with batter like cakes are. Remember when we made that cake for your birthday?”

“Spider-man!” his son exclaimed excitedly as he thought about his cake they had made just a few months ago, insisting that he have a homemade Spider-man cake. It didn’t look the best but he was still completely enthralled about it to this day.

“Yeah, Spider-man. He was made kind of the same way,” Michael explained to his fascinated son. He watched as he dipped his tiny finger into some of the batter that was left over in the bowl, tasting it and scrunching up his nose when he realized it didn’t taste anything like a sweet cake.

“Yuck,” he said, shaking his head at Michael and making the man laugh.

“Maybe it’s because you made it. You must be a bad cook,” the man shrugged nonchalantly as he teased the boy. He felt him tug on his shirt, frowning up at him as he challenged him.

“I am not! I made the cereal, that was good!” he argued, only making Michael laugh more. He flipped the pancake over in the pan, silently applauding himself for how well the bottom of the pancake had cooked. As much as his son wanted to make this breakfast, Michael truly wanted it to be perfect. He was always eager to find small ways to show his appreciation for you.

“But, I poured the milk?” Michael questioned, playfully challenging the boy even more.

“I poured the fruit loops!” he quickly replied, crossing his arms over his chest. He definitely had his mother’s stubbornness.

“Okay, maybe you aren’t that bad of a cook,” Michael compromised, plating the first pancake. Giving his son a banana and a dull, plastic knife he showed him how to slice the fruit so that he could put them on top. The pair worked together as they made the rest of the food for your breakfast, the house starting to fill with the smell of pancakes.

Michael stole a slice of banana, popping it into his mouth. “Shh,” he said, playfully smiling at his son as he mimicked his dad, stealing a piece from the plate as well.

The boy insisted on arranging the banana slices in a smiley face on the pancakes, carefully drizzling syrup all over them. Looking over the finished plate, he beamed proudly.

“Do you think she’ll like it?” he asked, looking up at Michael.

“She’ll love it, buddy,” Michael assured him, pouring a glass of orange juice. He set the plate onto a tray, carefully handing it to his son who held it like it was the most precious thing ever.

“Be careful,” he urged the boy, holding the glass of orange juice himself, not wanting to deal with scrubbing an orange stain out of the carpet this early in the morning. He watched as his son quietly padded into your bedroom, looking back at him with questioning eyes when he noticed you were still asleep.

Michael silently motioned for him to set the try on the nightstand, setting down the cup of orange juice down too. He grabbed his son, lifting him up onto the bed and he climbed over to your sleeping figure, giggling quietly before he started to attack you with affection as Michael lovingly watched, holding back his laughter.

You woke up to a mess of kisses all over your face, those familiar giggles filling the room and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

“What are you doing?” you sleepily said, wrapping your arms around your son and hugging him to you as your eyes fluttered open. He was looking at you with the sweetest grin, scarily resembling Michael.

“Me and Daddy made you breakfast in bed!” he happily exclaimed, making you look up to see Michael sitting on the bed next to you. He gave you a warm smile, reaching over and brushing your hair off of your forehead, pressing a quick kiss there.

“Good morning, baby,” he said, grabbing the tray from the nightstand. “Let Mommy eat, bub.”

Your son climbed off of you, giving your cheek a quick kiss and climbing under the blankets in Michael’s spot, resting his head on his dad’s pillow. You sleepily sat up, yawning and taking the tray, carefully setting it on your lap. The smiling breakfast caused you to chuckle, making your son giggle to himself at his silly creation.

“What’s the occasion?” you asked, starting to cut into the pancakes. It was truly a surprise to wake up to them both wide awake by your side, especially with a cooked breakfast. Typically you were the first one awake but not today.

“We just wanted to do something special for you,” Michael shrugged, looking over at his son who was snuggled up in the blankets. He always loved cuddling in your bed with the both of you. “Right?”

“Yep,” your son happily agreed, nodding his head and reaching out for you, his small hand loosely grasping your shirt. He had a habit of holding on to you in some way ever since he was a baby. You dreaded the day he stopped clinging to you like that.

You happily ate your food, listening to your son explain the whole process of making it in every detail that he could. Michael sat on the edge of the bed, leaning against the headboard and his hand slipping into your hair, massaging your scalp. You felt like you were in heaven, being treated so well by your favorite boys.

When you were finished you thanked them for working so hard and Michael took the dishes to the kitchen, your son taking the opportunity to cuddle up to you. He rested his head on your chest, his small arm hugging himself to you. Michael returned to see the pair of you snuggled up to each other, slipping back in bed behind your son and slinging his arm over the both of you.

You could feel your son starting to doze off, rubbing your shirt between his fingers and letting all of his weight lay on you. Michael ran his hand up and down the boy’s back, a smile pulling on his lips.

“He was so excited when he woke me up this morning,” Michael said softly, looking up at you with those blue eyes that you loved so much. “It’s unbelievable how much he loves you.”

“You’ve been a good example,” you said, looking down at the sleeping boy on your chest, kissing the top of his head. “He has a good man to look up to.”

Michael leaned over your son, pressing his lips to yours briefly as he smiled gently. If you could stay in this moment forever you would. It was so simple but filled you with so much love.

“You gave me the greatest gift in the world,” Michael whispered, shaking his head in loving disbelief. You both treasured the boy who peacefully slept on top of you, resembling the both of you in your favorite ways. He was truly the embodiment of your love and you admired how perfect of a father Michael had become. You wouldn’t trade these boys for the world.

tags: @dudesorriso @silkyhoneybaby @avesatanaslangdon @moonagecordelia @lucifer-owns-this-pussy @sodanova @romanoffkittens @heelsamizayn @kaigitana @lovely-langdon @langdonpilots @cryptid-coalition @cherryberryann @omnipotentdemoness @marzipan-romanoff @featherpool-852 @langdonsdemon @slasherloversposts @lxngdonscoven @01-800-mary @mcenziehughes @kylolangdon

#michael langdon #american horror story #american horror story: apocalypse #ahs apocalypse #ahs #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon fanfic #fanfiction #imagine

664 notes · View notes

heathendolan · 6 years

Text

888 -- Lemon Boy Epilogue [E.D]

Summary: (Technical ‘epilogue’ to Lemon Boy.) Short and sweet snippets of the end of high school through the first year of college.

A/N: Hiiii everyone, thank you SO MUCH for reading Lemon Boy despite it being long as all hell. I really appreciate more than you know. As requested, here’s a short-ish little epilogue !!!

Word Count: 4.4K+ || Masterlist || PLAYLIST

SERIES | 1 Lemon Boy | 1½ Banana Bread | 3 Boys Will Be Bugs | 3½ It’s U

"Mmm," Ethan winced, reaching for your hand habitually. "Oh, oh, mmm, no, okay, (Y/N)," he blabbed, his face twisting as he swiveled in his spot.

"What's your deal? You've gotten tons of tattoos before, why are you being such a baby about this one?" you asked, frowning.

He wiggled restlessly and sucked in air sharply through his teeth. "Because they were using a real needle and not- not a sewing pin," he wheezed, his voice cracking.

"You're the one that asked me to do this!" you lifted the needle from his thigh, cocking a brow at him warningly, but slid your left hand up to lock hands with him. "If you don't stop moving, I'm going to mess- okay, it's just going to look hideous, and it's going to be all your fault," you shrugged indifferently, pursing your lips.

Grayson snorted from beside you on the basement floor. "(Y/N), please don't mess it up, he's already ugly enough."

You giggled and nodded, ducking your head close to Ethan's leg again. "Tell me about it."

Ethan groaned from above you and you glanced up to see his notorious grumpy pout. "(Y/N), you're supposed to love me and all you two do is team up on me," he whined.

You rolled your eyes and flicked his knee. "Keep bitching and I'll accidentally mess up on purpose."

"I miss the days when you were shy and in awe of me," he sighed, sniffing theatrically.

"I certainly don't miss the days when you wouldn't fucking shut up about her. Oh, wait," Grayson grumbled, tossing a glare in Ethan's direction. You cackled, lifting your steady-working hand to avoid a mistake so you could laugh properly. Ethan rolled his eyes and stared at you with daggers.

"Biggest drama queen I know," you sang beneath your breath, stretching the skin on his thigh for a more precise stab. You had been working at his tattoo for over an hour and you'd hardly got the outline with all his fidgeting and squirming.

"What was that, babe?" Ethan tested, clear edge in his voice. You grinned to yourself, a sudden rush of affection coursing through you. You looked up, grabbed Ethan by the collar of his shirt, and tugged his sullen face to yours. You kissed him gently, taking your time to adjust to the intoxicating feeling he always gave you. He scrunched a hand in your hair and then dragged it down your arm idly, chuckling against your lips when his fingers ghosted your goosebumps, entangling his fingers with yours again.

"What are you guys laugh- Oh, for fuck's sake (Y/N), you know better!" Grayson scolded as he looked up from his phone. His face contorted in disgust as you blindly swatted at him, lazily pulling away from a very reluctant Ethan.

"Why are you yelling at me!" you retorted with a slackened jaw.

"Because Ethan doesn't have any self-control! You're supposed to push him away!"

You writhed as Ethan leaned down and peppered kisses on your cheek. "What if I'm the one that pulled him in?" you smirked, leaning into Ethan's touch.

Grayson gasped and immediately scuttled from his spot next to you. "(Y/N), I'm disappointed in you," he scoffed, strutting to the door. You rolled your eyes and turned back to Ethan, whose nose was nuzzling your jaw and the spot beneath your ear so lovingly.

"Mmm, why do you always smell so good?" Ethan breathed against your neck, marking a soft kiss on your throat. "Like-" Sniff. "-all the-" Deep breath. "-time. I just wanna-" he mumbled, teasing his lips along the line of your throat before he dragged your mouth to his. Your cheeks heated up, just as they always did, and you fisted your hands in the hem of his cotton tee, rumpling the fabric in your fingers. Ethan licked the curve of your mouth and you sighed a breathy sigh, your toes curling when he bit down on your bottom lip.

"(Y/N), Wonder Woman starts at 9:15 and you're coming with me!" Cameron screamed from around the corner, her feet slapping on the tiled floor as she ran to you.

You pushed at a stubborn Ethan, whose lips had worked their way to your neck, his teeth digging into the soft skin. "No, Cam, don't come-"

She scampered into the basement, still smiling before she dropped her phone and her jaw. "What the fuck-"

"Cam-"

"My innocent eyes!" she shrieked, burying her face in the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

"Okay, that's not even accurate." You pulled Ethan off of you by his hair, cringing terribly.

"Oh, I love it when you pull my hair-" Ethan moaned dramatically, throwing in a whimper for good measure.

"Oh, my virgin ears!" Cam wailed, clamping her hands around her head.

Your face slumped, unconcerned. "Virgin? Cameron, literally last week you-"

"Whoa, what?" Ethan yelled. "The fuck does she mean last week, Cameron?"

Cameron smacked her forehead, "(Y/N)."

"You're my little sister! you can't be sleeping with guys!" Ethan screamed, his hands flailing as he spoke.

"Little sister? Ethan, I'm four years olde-"

"Hey! What's going on down there?!" Lisa chastised from the top of the stairs. You all cinched your lips and exchanged glances. "I asked a question," she pushed icily.

"I- I, Um- I'm going to Wonder Woman with Cameron and Ethan doesn't want me to go!" you replied, shuffling over to the stairs. You glanced back at Ethan and rolled your eyes as he mouthed 'correct'.

Lisa stared down at you from over the banister and snorted. "Tell Ethan to suck it up. Wait, hey, could I come? Make it a girls night?" she asked, smiling giddily.

You chuckled and nodded. "Only if you're ready by 9:00 Lisa!" you said.

You turned back to find a very smug Cameron and a very angry Ethan. "(Y/N), you are literally in the middle of giving me a tattoo!" he cried, tugging up his basketball shorts to reveal the outline of a lemon slice. You raised a brow and your eyes flickered over to Cam who had her hands on her hips.

"E, it's girls night!" you whimpered, biting your lip. "I promise I'll finish it someday."

"Someday?" he asked incredulously, staring down at the unrecognizable design.

"Yes! Someday!" you said, Cameron tugging you by your arm to the stairs.

"Fuck's sake, Cam, at least let me say goodbye to my girlfriend," he growled, stomping over to you and wrapping his arms around your middle, yanking you away from her grasp. She huffed and thundered up the steps, deserting the two of you. He groaned loudly, throwing his head back and exposing his throat oh-so deliciously. "Why does my family love you so much!"

You snorted, "That sounds like the opposite of a problem."

He tightened his arms around you and rested his chin on the top of your head, giving you the opportunity to peck his collarbone. "You know what I mean. You're my girlfriend, not Cameron's, not my mom's, not Grayson's-"

"All yours," you mumbled against his chest as he ranted.

He kissed the top of your head and grumbled a bit more before sighing, "Alright. Go to the stupid movie without me." He unraveled from around you and plopped back on the couch all angsty.

You rolled your eyes and followed him, climbing onto his lap like you had a thousand times before. "Baby..." you cooed, running your fingers along the hard lines of his stomach. He huffed dramatically, and you knew he was just playing hard to get. He fought back a grin, instead frowning his terrible frown. "I can stay here if you really want me to..."

He tilted his head back and forth as if weighing the options before grunting and throwing an arm around your neck, pulling you in to kiss your temple. "Of course I want you to go," he murmured against your skin. "Just miss you."

You closed your eyes and really reveled in the moment, a soft smile on your lips.

"Can't wait for forever. Sometimes it feels like we don't have enough time," he whispered. "I know that sounds dumb."

You shook your head and hugged him tightly. "I know. I know, and I always have to tell myself that I'm not going anywhere, and I pray to God you aren't either," you said, nervously chewing on your lip. "Sometimes, seems too good to be true."

He kissed your cheek and chuckled as he felt it heat beneath his lips. "You don't even have to ask, I'm obsessed with you. I've even made these little voodoo dolls with your hair and they-"

"Ethan," you laughed, swatting the back of his head, all tension melting in an instant. Because that's what it was like to be in love with your best friend.

"(Y/N)!" Cameron called from the top of the stairs.

You grinned warmly at him and shifted to hop off his lap. He held your hips firmly in place, kissing you softly, softly, softly.

"Ethan!" Cameron scolded, realizing just what was happening.

"She's coming!" he barked. You slid off his lap and smiled and turned to leave before you were tugged right back, gifted with one more peck. "I love you," he mumbled against your mouth.

"I love you t-"

Cameron stamped her foot on the ground. "Ethan, I swear to fuck-"

"Holy shit Cameron, hold on two fuc-"

Graduation was just as bittersweet as everyone had told you; while you had plenty of fantasies about burning the school down to the ground, you couldn't help but reminisce on all the good memories it gave you. Your mind roamed to that first time you ran into Grayson, all scattered papers and life-threatening anxiety levels. You took one last peek at the lunch table you'd sat at for four years with the best friends you could have ever asked for. You hugged Mr. Dolan, this time not for Ethan or for grilling steaks on the back deck last night, but for being the best literature teacher you could have asked for, and for kindling that creative flame in you.

You watched Ethan cross the stage with tears slipping from the corners of your eyes. You stood and screamed and hollered for him, ignored all the judgmental stares, and cried freely when he looked back at you with an award-winning, eye crinkling grin.

"Who knew that son of a bitch could smile. I'm surprised he even made it up there," you heard someone snark from behind you.

And that was it.

You sat, twisted in your seat, and said, "Go fuck yourself, you piece of shit."

Because what did you owe Caleb Hoffman from 2nd period? What the fuck were you holding back for? You'd never see him again in your life after this ceremony. You'd never see any of the people that treated Ethan like he was less than human again, and if that wasn't a blessing.

"E-Excuse me?" he coughed, his face an unattractive tomato red.

"I said, go fuck yourself. Don't ever speak about Ethan Dolan again," you spat and turned back around.

You walked across stage feeling freer than you ever had in your life--not because of the imitation diploma your principle handed you or the fact that you never had to take another P.E. class again, but because for the first time in your eighteen years, you were no longer caged by the opinions of others.

As the sun drew close to the horizon, you sat in that ice cream parlor once more with your best friends. The bridge of your nose was pink with sunburn and your hair was a host for half of the beach's sand, and it felt good.

You scraped your tongue against the scoop of cream cotton candy, reminiscing on all those 'remember the time's with Lacey, Madi, and Sierra. It felt like you were all cramming as many inside jokes and memories as you possibly could, people often being interrupted or talked over, the subject pin-balling. You sat in the booth for hours, begging time to slow down, slow down.

"Guys?" you said quietly when the conversation settled, licking your wobbling lip. And it set in all in one moment. "I'm really gonna fucking miss you guys," you croaked.

And then you were throwing your arms around each other hastily, clinging onto each other painfully tight, sobbing into each other's arms.

"I know this isn't goodbye, but it hurts so bad," Madi choked out.

"It hurts because I'm not going to know every second of your guys' days for the first time, no matter how hard we try," Sierra said through a strangled voice. "Who the fuck am I gonna be a mom to now?"

You all broke out in laughter and huddled together even tighter, snuffles and cries accompanying your giggles.

And then the sun set, the moon rose, and the ice cream parlor you'd attended with them since you were a toddler flipped its sign from 'open' to 'closed.'

And you knew this wasn't goodbye, but it hurt so bad.

You stood on the sidewalk of your university, shielding the sun with your hand and pointing to the fourth floor of the skyscraper in front of you. "Think that's my room right there," you muttered.

Ethan grabbed your hand and moved it down a floor. "And there's mine," he chuckled, wrapping an arm around you. You leaned into his body, the most content you'd ever been.

"We're on our own, E," you mumbled, voice soft and shaky. "Wonder how my mom's gonna fend for herself."

Grayson strode up next to the two of you and sighed vehemently. "She's going to be so lost, but at least she'll get some sleep now that I'm gone."

Your eyebrows furrowed and you tensed against Ethan's figure. "Get some sleep..? Oh- Grayson, stop making those jokes about my mom, you're so fucking weird," you groaned, shoving his shoulder the best you could--which wasn't much. He cackled wickedly and high-fived Ethan. "Oh my god, I can't do this anymore," you moaned, dropping your face in your hands.

Gray wrapped you up tight and scrubbed his fist against your head. "C'mon little sis, get used to it. You're still stuck with me."

"I'm thrilled."

"Me too!" Ethan cheered, tackling the two of you in a bear hug.

"Woo." You were very happy that your near-gaping smile was masked by their arms because they didn't need to know how excited you were.

"And we aren't on our own! We have each other, unlimited freedom, and a lot of anxiety!" Grayson smiled gleefully, nodding his head at the campus in gratitude.

"We're gonna starve," you wailed, your voice muffled by the many limbs surrounding you.

"Don't worry, we have my cooking-"

"Oh my god, we're going to have to eat Grayson's cooking," you cried dramatically. "That is so much worse. I wanna go home."

He slapped you upside the head and then was immediately attacked by Ethan, who began chewing off his ears about you being 'fragile'. You rolled your eyes and ducked out from under them. You left the boys to their endless shenanigans and tucked your hair behind your ears, began to trot up the sidewalk to your dorm and unlocked your door, hoping your roommate was there at this point.

And she was. "Hi, I'm Charlotte!" she said, scrambling off the bed to shake your hand. She was tall and pretty--supermodel pretty--and your gut twisted sickly. How quickly could someone snatch E up here?

Despite your quaking nerves, you grinned and ignored her formal greeting, throwing your arms around her instead. "Hey roomie, I'm (Y/N)."

She chuckled and gripped you tighter. You broke apart and stared at each other a bit awkwardly, a silence filling up the room. You glanced around, desperate to find something to talk about as the seconds passed. You noted her minimalist decorations, everything in white and gold, except for a rainbow flag that stuck out from her pencil cup. You marveled at how tidy she was, with an obvious fashion to her notes. They were color-coded to her binders with matching pens placed directly in the center of the books, and it reminded you of E a bit. You were so caught up in your own anxiety, you failed to realize that this was probably just as big of a transition for her as it was for you. "So-"

She heaved a deep breath and cut you off, "Okay, I just have to ask, I saw your To Kill a Mockingbird book on your bed earlier, and I noticed you were at the end, so I just have to ask. What do you think about Harper Lee categorizing her novel as a love story? Because I've read it a dozen times, and I saw all your highlighted quotes--sorry, didn't mean to snoop, I was just checking the page, I swear--and you've clearly read it before too, so I was just-"

Your smile was untamable. "Honestly, I don't know what she was thinking, specifically because there's not romance in any part of the novel, besides the rape, but that didn't even happen!" you cried, grinning freakishly wide. "I honestly think she was just trying to make people think and sound more... I don't know, unique? I mean, I know that Scout has a good relationship with her father and brother and not everything has to be romantic, but I hardly think that makes it classifiable as a love story."

"Right!" Charlotte chimed, stomping her foot for emphasis. "That's like saying Brave New World was a love story, when it was clearly more about the dystopian universe post-World War I, you know? Just because Lenina fell for ..." she continued, but you were too happy to listen.

College was going to be alright.

You slung the headband around Ethan's hair, pushing his unruly mane back. "Never cut this hair," you said pointedly, twisting the face mask pot open.

Ethan laid back, still chewing the last bits of his ramen, and asked, "Really? Grayson's been on me about how it's getting too long."

You dipped two of your fingers into the goop and smeared it on his forehead, Ethan wincing at the cold. He would never stop being dramatic--thankfully. "Well, Grayson's not the one pulling on it," you drawled, rubbing the mixture all around his face. Ethan smirked, running his tongue over his teeth. His face relaxed under your touch, allowing you to smooth the face mask on easily, leaving him with blue skin.

"Mmkay, done," you breathed, admiring your masterpiece. And maybe it was the fact that it was almost finals week and you were bound to be stressed out of your mind, or maybe it was the fact that you just returned from your first spring break with your first--and only--love, or maybe it was the fact that you were impossibly, most-fortunately, and irrevocably in love with your absolute best friend, but a tidal wave of emotion swept over you and you looked at him with all the love in the world and asked, "E, how'd we get this far?"

He smiled crookedly at you and said, "If I knew, I'd tell everyone, so they'd know what it's like to be this happy."

Your head fell and you willed yourself not to cry and get too emotional. "You used to be the boy that never smiled."

Ethan twisted you and pulled you onto his chest, his heart rabbiting underneath you. "Now look what you've done to me. I've lost my reputation, asshole."

You laughed and slapped his thigh where it bordered you, glancing at the tattoo you never bothered to finish, and then you were really laughing. "Ethan," you giggled uncontrollably.

"What? What's gotten into you?" he laughed, holding the sides of your waist.

"We never finished your tattoo," you laughed, holding your stomach where it ached. It was half a lemon slice, tucked right up at the top of his thigh. He furrowed his brows, staring at the ink until a smile broke out on his face; one so big it made your breathing shallow and your heart pound. Then he was laughing hard, so hard, and you took a second to thank God for Ethan Dolan.

"You're right. And all because you had to go to Wonder Woman," he rolled his eyes.

"Uh, excuse me! That was the greatest movie of all time! I would ditch your tattoo a second time to watch Wonder Woman again," you sniffed haughtily.

He rubbed at the spot on his thigh, smoothing his thumb over the skin with a smile. "You really should finish that, I completely forgot about it."

You snorted, "Please, you have like, ninety on there." You chuckled as you ran your fingertip along the black lines on his leg. "I doubt anyone notices the half-finished lemon slice, Lemon Boy." His eyes lit up at the nickname you hadn't used in forever, simply because he wasn't his bitter self anymore. He was happy--he was so genuinely happy. "Besides, I doubt you have a higher pain-tolerance than you did last year, so it's probably not a good idea..."

"Wha- okay, you're literally stabbing me with a pin. My bad if I was hurt by a pin literally stabbing me!"

"Whatever," you sighed, knowing it would rile him up. Before he had the chance to explode, you sat up and kissed him with all the love you had, slowly and gently, just how he deserved.

He pulled back, "Want a tattoo? Since it's so painless and easy-"

And, without the thought of overthinking, you blurted, "Sure," and didn't let yourself change your mind.

"Sure? Are you serious?" Ethan panted, sitting up straight and searching your eyes.

"Yeah, and I'd get going before I change my mind," you sang, tying your hair up with a spare ponytail you had on your wrist. Ethan hopped off his twin-sized mattress and ransacked his closet for the makeshift tattoo set he stored. You giggled as he raced around with a blue face-masked face, snatching his razor and the bottle of shaving cream.

"What do you want? And where do you want it? Cause there are a few areas that are really painful, like your ankle or-"

"Surprise me," you grinned.

"Surprise you?" you gawked. "(Y/N), this is a tattoo like, for life."

You shrugged and shucked off your crewneck and ducked down to grab The Great Gatsby from Ethan's bedside table. It was your copy; the one you had bought with Christmas money a few days after he gifted you with that reading list, and it was tattered and crumpled and perfectly messy. It had highlighter smeared everywhere and questions and comments and quotes. Without a second thought, you cracked the spine and flicked open the first page.

"Chapter One: In my younger and more vulnerable years," you spoke crisply. Ethan chuckled from behind you and crept onto the bed to straddle your legs and get to work. He popped the cap of the can of shaving cream and shaved away at a small patch of skin just below your shoulder blade, wiping it all away with a cold rag. "my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since. 'Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,' he told me, 'just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.' He didn’t say any- Ow!"

"See!" he laughed, pricking your skin again with the needle.

"No, doesn't hurt that bad, I just-" you fibbed, your voice wavering implausibly as he stabbed you again. "didn't expect it, 's'all"

Ethan hummed sarcastically and continued his torture. "Keep reading."

So you did, and once you adjusted to the constant jabs, you settled. You read and read and read for ages, your eyes growing droopier as the hours passed. "E, I can't stay up anymore," you mumbled, flattening yourself on the mattress.

He chuckled and swiped away at the ink with his towel. "Alright, I'm done anyway. Wanna see it?" he asked.

You shook your head and adjusted your position. "No, just want to cuddle 'n' have you read to me," you whispered, reaching blindly for his fingers.

He leaned down and kissed your tattoo sweetly and dragged his lips up to the nape of your neck, peppering kisses wherever he could. "Mmkay babe, just need to wash off this stupid face mask," he grumbled.

"You'll have glowing skin," you giggled, shutting your eyes. He complained about something, you were sure of it, but you were already edging unconsciousness. He waddled back over to the bed, picked you up and slid under you. He felt the bare skin of your belly on his hip bone, so he stripped off his tee and pulled it over you, wrestling your arms into the holes. You clung to his body, laying between his legs because frankly, that's the only way the two of you could fit on the twin-sized dorm bed. "Are you gonna read?" you said, practically sleep talking.

"Mmm, yeah," he mumbled. His eyes scattered around the page, attempting to find a place to pick up off of, and then he found it. "He smiled understandingly-much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced--or seemed to face--the whole eternal world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself, and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey," he read over the highlighted words. And then, with a pounding heart, he ran his fingers along the margin alongside the quote where 'Ethan--the boy that never used to smile' was written.

Ethan smiled to himself, begged the tears in his eyes to subside, and lifted the shirt that covered your sleeping body up to reveal his tattoo on your back. Written plain and simply beneath the wing of your shoulder was 'Lemon Boy' in a thin font.

He dragged your top back down and felt sleep tug on him stubbornly. So, with a yawn, he tossed Gatsby onto the floor, leaned down and kissed your forehead, and switched off the lamp. Tomorrow was another day with you, and Ethan couldn’t wait.

NEXT: 3 | Boys Will Be Bugs

#ethan dolan #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan imagines #ethan dolan fanfiction #e #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins #grayson dolan #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan imagines #grayson dolan fanfiction #youtube #mine #masterlist

638 notes · View notes

keyflight790 · 5 years

Note

65, 86, 117 ❤️

OMG HI FRIEND!!!

65: Do I believe in luck? nope, because we all work hard as hell to get to where we are, and if something falls into place, it’s because you deserve it.

86: What is my current desktop picture? My home comp is also my work comp, so it’s just my business branding. But my phone is Neville art from @deluminatorillustrator and @banana-ge-ge!!! here and here.

117: What concerts have I been to? Backstreet Boys, and not the recent one in Vegas. Also I’ve seen Andrew McMahon in concert a couple of times. Would love to see Taylor Swift, but Charleston, SC doesn’t really get that many concerts.

Thanks for the ask!!! 😍

4 notes · View notes

pwnyta · 3 years

Note

(Same redesign anon) YES! Lemon looks so lanky and that doesn't do him any justice, I really like him but I wish he stand a bit straight y'know? Whipped cream looks good tho I think the way he stands fits his design and personality. As for the Dino...idk but he looks like a mess to me :( his hair and pants and the way he stands...idk. he's a great character but my god pls give him a nice standing rig.

Also im quite surprised that YOU LIKE PEACH OMGGGG! She is my absolute favorite character and it saddens me that nobody talks abt how cute she is! She reminds me of pucca as well and that reason made me just love her 1000 times more.

Also thank you for loving cotton candy and rye. My respect for you just 📈📈📈📈📈📈

Quite surprised that you like pomegranate. I thought you would hate her bc of what she did to DC (I would never forgive her just bc of that)

I didn't expect you to hate avocados design tho. Is it bc of her face? It's a bit silly yes but it fits her :(

I also agree abt earl grey,eclair and rogueforts design. to me it feels like they made 1 main design and split that into 3 lol they looks so similar

Also I agree everything you said about cocoa bc YES! She has such an adorable and design and for what. being a coca addict? She keeps saying cocoa on all of her lines like...girl I get It you have an addiction lol.dunno how mint choco stands her

ALSO IT FEELS SO GOOD THAT I FOUND SOMEONE WHO HATES ICE JUGGLER , STRAWBERRY CREPE AND ROCKSTAR AS WELL OMG I NEVER FELST SO UNDERSTOOD. when I saw ice juggler it was basically hate at first sight.i thought I would like him through his story but no. He's was an asshole to banana! Annoying ass ability. Garbage ass personality. And ugly ass design.just GTFO my eyesight! Same with SC as well bc HOW CAN U BE AN ASSHOLE TO SOMEBODY LIKE STRAWBERRY! She is an angel who's trying her best D':<no nope no no no no! jail!

Yeah I guess Dinos standing sprite looks pretty awkward, I see what youre saying and maybe his overall design would work better if his pants were torn at the bottom similarlly to Werewolf since hes this little wild man... but they kinda explained away his neatness by giving him an older sister who makes his clothes LOL.

I love Peach! I love a Journey to the West reference and shes clearly Momo(Peach) and Sun Woo Kong which is super cute! Also the way she runs is so funny, her attack animations are great... theres also a loading screen where she says 'I can do this with my eyes closed!' but right before the screen changes she peaks one eye open and its just so fucking cute.

and god that costume...

Her beach costume is great too but LOOK AT THAT (Plums matching costumes are also perfect). So fucking good. Peach is a wacky cheeky little monkey and I adore her.

CC is baby and Rye is just cool. Its hard not to like her.

I have a love-hate relationship with Pomegranate, I spent so much time before Kingdom, loving her and then that scene where its shown that she is the one who manipulates Dark Choco just... but shes so gorgeous- the bitch and her loyalty to DE is also something I like... but she does this to my boy.... UGH.... Look I love her but if she died I wouldnt be mad about it (unless it was a lame death). Thats the vibe with her. I love her.... but also I hate her.

Its everything BUT her base, like her body/face are fine theres a lot of character there... its her outfit... or something IDK I LIKE Avocado I just never liked her design. Even alt reality Avo had a slightly better design even though it sorta saps out Avos personality. Avo also has a slide ability... which I hate so much although hers is a bit more fun than most.

Yeah I mean technically they dont look bad but the fact the three are so similar makes them stand out less and Roguefort is always gonna be the best of the three because they were first.

Mint Choco used to be in my top favs because I liked his vibe and his backstory that he was a street performer that made it. It was interesting but now hes mostly just Cocoas boyfriend... so I like him less because of it.

LMAO YEAH I remember when Juggler was first shown and everyone thought hed be like a precious shy baby but then he just turned out to be a fucking dick which was funny... but not likable.

Crepes design I actually kind of like but again with the shitty personality and nobody fucks with my baby girl.

Similarly Rockstar... except his design is trash but also hes a dick to DJ... and I wont tolerate DJ slander.

#Cookie Run #Dear Nonny.

1 note · View note

sussex-nature-lover · 4 years

Text

Friday 1st January 2021

Review of the Year Q1 January, February, March 2020. Pre Pandemic Lockdown.

Hello, I’m wishing everyone a Happy, Healthy and Safe Year Ahead. We always say that don’t we, but boy does it have so much more meaning this time.

What can I say about the year just gone that hasn’t already been said? Well, they say a picture paints a thousand words so I’m going to choose some of my own photographs to illustrate the most positive things we experienced over the strangest year of our lives - the year of the Covid-19 coronavirus world pandemic, which is still raging today (and let’s hope I don’t get to say that again)

I’m cheating at the very beginning because I’m starting off by using a photo from Christmas 2019 when we had one of our usual type of trees in the Hall.

I’d usually decorate the Hall tree in the traditional red and gold

Below is the little tree that gained promotion this year, but in pink and white, silver and gold. That was a bit fancy for me, but the Owls liked it.

It put on some healthy growth throughout the year and played host to many perching little birds, mainly Blue, Great and Marsh Tits. I had to clear off all the cobwebs and take out all the bits of twig and leaf before it could come indoors.

And there it was, pressed into service. Every year in this house we’ve had at least two trees, a 7-8′ and a 5-6′ but this year, Little Tree was upgraded to the starring role. Hoorah Little Tree, you’ve done us proud. One of the best things to enjoy about the tree is all the memories that come with the decorations collected year after year from all around the world and some dating back to my Granny’s tree, although they’re looking rather delicate these days.

You can see our fairly recent tradition of perching ‘Travis’ the Christmas Pheasant in prime position just underneath the Angel. I think he looked fab this year, you can see him a bit more clearly than on a bigger tree.

January Garden Visitors: Sparrowhawk

As for January 2020, it brought some horrid bitterly cold, wet and windy weather. We were lucky on the 10th when we drove to Ms NW tE’s house and she put on a fantastic lunch that we both really enjoyed. That was the last time we sat down close at the table with anyone else outside of our own home and ate together* Last time we dined out-out was November 2018! Those were the days. 31st January 2020 was also the last time I had my hair cut - now it’s the longest it’s been since I was about half the age I am now and it might even be longer than then and still growing.

* Ms NW tY did pop around after work for supper in February and we meant to make that a fairly regular thing, but the only other time we got to eat together was when it was allowed outdoors in the Summer - sat at opposite ends of a very, very long table. That was weird.

January: sunset

The bad wet weather had started here in late October 2019 and we were caught in flooding in Cheshire. The Fire Brigade came to pump water off the road that we were sat on for a very long time. Much worse came with horrendous floods in Venice when some of the canals became unnavigable. World weather certainly made headlines in 2020 with flooding and raging fires devastating massive areas. The National Trust wildlife report I posted talks about the effects of the weather and climate change and what they’re trying to do to combat as much as they can.

I also see that in January we’d started to hear of Wuhan and to talk about hand washing. A friend’s sister is living in China and she’d got a flight booked to visit in April. Another friend said their lockdown and travel restrictions may be lifted by then. Little did we know.

Looking back at last year’s photos, pre blog, I was surprised I caught the Green Woodpecker in February, photo taken mid morning on the 16th.

This may be one of the last PP pictures I took (PP = Pre Pandemic) and it’s all the more remarkable because Storm Dennis had hit us.

On the 17th we went shopping for a care package for Ms NW tY who was sick and home alone. Raging fever, cough, felt like she had a chest infection and limbs like lead. Similar to what I had back in November 2019. It took seven months for me to feel tip top again, so who knows what on earth we had - not Covid obviously because the medical experts say it wasn’t over here then. They also said no need to wear face masks and children were impervious...

I’ll just leave those thoughts there.

February Garden Visitors: lots of Pheasants

Meanwhile we were starting to talk about handwashing - a lot, 20 seconds minimum with soap and hot water. Sing Happy Birthday to You all the way through and keep on washing. Haven’t heard that so much in a while actually.

...and toilet rolls. Any mention of a forthcoming lockdown and panic buying prompts shortages immediately. It was toilet rolls, rice, pasta and flour. I’m sticking with my illustration of handwashing using one of my favourite soaps. Portuguese Soap, hard to beat but prohibitively expensive nowadays. We just looked at that link and whistled, drawing in our breath and sighing. I’m going to be refilling that bottle with something altogether more modest. Of course, so much more choice now for something a bit different, especially closer to home. Kent Soap. I’ve been glad this year that I ask for nice soap as a gift if anyone wants to know what I’d like and we got some for Christmas too, so that’ll keep us going.

White Hyacinths and Freesias for fragrance lifting the bleak days

The pandemic seemed to get worse and we were getting alarmed. I last went into a supermarket early mid March. Since then I’ve only been in National Trust shops, the petrol station and the pharmacy. I first wore a face mask when we took the car for its MOT, also mid March. Staff looked at me as though I was a bank robber. When we went to collect the car later the same day there was a notice on the door ‘Only two customers allowed inside at any one time’ and news was starting to spread...about health precautions, not about me.

Soon MOT tests were suspended and the country was facing a lockdown. Since then we had a time when both of our cars’ batteries died. We’ve SORN (officially declared off road) one - it’s taking us all our time to keep the other ticking over.

March Garden Visitors: hungry Rabbits at the seed trays

I started to write my Blog. At first I just used Google Sheets for seven daily scribblings and then I moved to this platform. Blog Number 1 here with the urls of the first few entries at the end. Little did I know at that stage that I’d be writing every day at least once a day and still going.

As National Lockdown got underway as well as writing we all started walking again and looking at nature and baking - boy did we all embrace baking last year. There must’ve been a country-weight of Sourdough and/or Banana Bread attempted with varying degree of success...lucky Joe Wicks came on board to get everyone up and doing a bit of keep fit, People started working from home, hosted social lives by internet, online quizzes and memes became a thing, a really big Thing. If we were lucky our food shopping was delivered straight to our door, TV cookery shows were full of advice on what you could use if you couldn’t source what you really wanted.

Just as my football team was on course for its first ever Premier League Championship win, the season had to be suspended (13th March) hoping to resume in April. It was a vain hope, but as our manager Jûrgen Klopp said, health and safety is far more important than anything else...we can wait 😉

Sport around the world, like everything else, had to be put on pause.

The situation got worse and every Thursday night at 8pm we went outdoors and clapped for our carers as they battled on trying to get to grips with this new virus and people falling sick in huge numbers. It was a whole new way of life.

To be Continued

--------------

WEATHER NEWS:

Forecasters are warning of possible further chaos, because the same conditions behind the 'Beast from the East' in 2018 - one of the worst storms to hit the UK in living memory - are forming again high up in the atmosphere.

The 'sudden stratospheric warming' (SSW) event happens when the temperature in the stratosphere soars by 50C (122F). This 'reverses' Britain's wind pattern, from the warmer west out in the Atlantic to the east – and Siberia.

It can take two weeks for the effects of a SSW to be felt. This was the case in February 2018 with the infamous Beast from the East, which saw much of the UK gripped by travel chaos and school closures amid heavy snow.

^ Not to mention Hospital closures too, which meant my operation was cancelled.

New Year’s Day Read:

The Wildlife Trust Marine Review of 2020

This report is also covered by the Daily Mail which also includes photos, video and information from other regional trusts around the country.

Decoration from the Standen Courtyard Christmas Tree

Once again some absolutely beautiful handiwork, The Tree of Life. What better message for a brand new year.

The Tree of Life symbol represents our personal development, uniqueness and individual beauty. Just as the branches of a tree strengthen and grow upwards to the sky, we too grow stronger, striving for greater knowledge, wisdom and new experiences as we move through life.

Music for New Year from the Rivertree Singers

a community choral ensemble in Greenville, SC. USA

‘Tomorrow Shall be my Dancing Day’ Let’s hope so.

youtube

#nature photography #review marine NewYear music UKwildlife

0 notes

sacredchow-vegan-cooking · 4 years

Text

We're having 2 more days of SC's Closing-Down Garage Sale on 9/16 & 9/17 @ 5-9, & then SC will close permanently on Friday, 9/18.

There's so much for you to use, especially restaurant kitchens. The folks who are so pressed due to Covid, there's tons of gold to take away. There's lbs of vital wheat gluten, all purpose & rice flour, sugar, black strap molasses, spices, #10 cans of coconut cream, diced tomatoes & paste, gallons of mustard, red & white wine perfect for cooking. Plates, forks, cups, books, low boys, confection ovens, 2 large, 1 small, a beer motor, dish machine, shelving, antique Moroccan lanterns, restaurant tables & chairs, + more. There's food we made too, 2 sheets of SC's gluten free chocolate brownies, banana lb cakes, nama gori tofu, & freshly made seitan in bulk, & sangria & margarita that we made so you can relax & just feel peaceful.

Originally, I was gonna lock the door & walk away, adios, time to move on, but there's items you can use. This isn't about pulling in $, it's about connecting, gratitude, 💜, a collective human generosity. I ❤️ you all so much. I hope that what's been collected during the 16 years SC has been @ 227 Sullivan St might provide you with some reprieve from Covid's financial drain, & perhaps some memories to take away.

I received so many joyous & heartbreakingly sad messages from so many of you. Joyous memories & tears. Like you, I will miss SC's delicious food, & a shared experience grounded in mutual 💕, justice & respect for each other & our fellow beings. Many of you wanted to know what's next on my list. I practiced law in both PA & NYC, providing legal protection for the most disenfranchised among us. I opened SC on Hudson St in 1995 & Sullivan St in 2005 vowing to find a way to make less violence happen. What a privilege! Thank you so much to those of you who loved SC, & supported these ideals. In May 2021, I will be heading off to Brittany, France to open a soil-to-plate cooking-educational touring experience, a B & B in a stunning friary from 1,600. How amazing, right! I wish you all wondrous things. I hope to see you in coming days, & if you're open for hugs, so am I.

L'amour est tout & au revoir.

0 notes

felinehypocritical · 7 years

Note

Could you write something about bev and Eddie and Stan and Bill going on their first double date? I love your fics!

hey so im not gonna write eddie as anything other than gay but! i will do eds as a closeted gay boy with bev helping him hide it! sorry i just dont ship eds w girls (but ill do bev w literally anyone besides richie and eds) :(

“So, we’re all here,” the redheaded girl said, smiling indulgently at the two boys across the table as she put a hand over Eddie’s. She tried not to frown as the boy himself flinched away, and let him simply scoot closer to her, leaning into him a bit.

“Yes.” Stan looked across the tabletop and let his eyes flick to Eddie, before glancing back at Beverly and smiling slightly back.

Bill rolled his eyes, putting a large hand over Stan’s smaller one and grinning widely at both teens. “D-don’t be s-so awkward, St-St-tanny, we’re all friends here.”

“Golly, I didn’t mean to be, Bill, I just love you quite so much I don’t want to be here right now,” Stan replied sarcastically with eyes so noncommittal that if you asked them where they’d be on the day of their mother’s funeral they’d shrug, continuing to stir the sugar on the table around with his fingertips.

Beverly rolled her eyes for what seemed like the millionth time after the only half an hour of time with the three boys. “You guys are ridiculous. We literally JUST ordered, my goodness.” She flipped her hair behind her shoulder and looked at Eddie with a face of ‘can you believe them?’ before continuing on with “and Bill’s finally finished his French oral exam without stuttering!”

Stan perked up, looking at his boyfriend with bright eyes. “Oh yeah, good job, Big Bill!” He leaned up and kissed the much-taller boy on the cheek.

Bill puffed up a bit at that and let Stan lean over onto him slightly. “Yeah, I kn-know! I’m s-super excited to luh-laugh in my Fruh-hench teacher’s f-face.”

Looking up at Bill, Eddie snorted. “Well, I’m not sure that’s the purpose, Billy. Maybe the purpose is to just be better than you were.”

All of them looked at eachother for a moment, before breaking out into giggles.

“Oh, Eddie, you’re funny,” Beverly said, kicking her legs slightly under the table. “It’s ALL about beating adults!”

“True.” Stan looked sideways at Bill as he said this, shrugging. “But it’s also about being better than other kids.”

“Also truh-true,” replied Bill, “but just reh-hemember you’ll never be better than Ruh-Richie at… What was it again?” The three others giggled again, before quieting and sipping their milkshakes. Although it was strange- Stan and Bill shared one, and Beverly and Eddie had split one in different glasses. When questioned, Beverly said sharply that Eddie was worried about getting sick, and suddenly Stan and Bill weren’t so curious anymore.

“Well, what were you thinking for after this?” Beverly asked, bumping a shoulder with the blond boy. “I mean, if you can tell us…”

“Shut ih-it, Bevvie.” Bill looked at her affectionately, before sighing and pursing his lips to one side and looking at Stan. “Wh-whaddya think buh-babe?”

Stan gazed up at the ginger. “Dunno. Whatever you want, Billy.” Eddie seemed to be internally biting his lip.

Beverly cleared her throat, nudging Eddie and tilting her head, her flip falling in a sheet over her shoulder again. “Anyways! What’ve you guys been doing lately?”

“Oh, you know, picnics ‘n homework ‘n stuff…” Stan nudged Bill’s shoulder, sharing a look with him people across the world would know the meaning of.

“Romantic,” Beverly said drily. “You’re both so transparent, you know that?”

“Nuh-no idea wh-what you’re ruh-heferring to.”

Eddie snorted again, this time behind his hand, and let them stare, for once, because he knew they would forget in a minute anyway.

Or, he thought they would.

“What about you and Bevvie, Eds?”

Eddie tried to look happy, mostly succeeding as he saw the plastered on happy look Beverly herself wore- the one that would serve her all those years later in making her first dress deal. “We- why, we’re great! Fine as paint, Big Bill.”

“Ah… hah.”

They all looked at eachother once again, this time uncomfortably. Just then, a voice broke in, and the bell jingled.

“My GAWD, and what do we have here?” Richie Tozier shrieked, the waitstaff looking on in agony at the new arrival. Richie spotted the quartet and pulled up a chair quick as can be, with Ben in tow behind them. “Heya, Eds!”

“Don’t call me Eds,” Eddie began robotically, before Bev jabbed him in the side and he shut his mouth.

“Yeah yeah, sure, Wheezy. Hey, Stan, where’s yer-” Richie gasped dramatically, grasping his chest and bugging his eyes out. “WHY, are Bill Denbrough and Stan Uris sharing a milkshake?!”

Bill rolled his eyes, and this time HE felt as if it were the millionth time. “Ruh-Rich. We’ve b-b-been through this. Okay?”

Richie made the okay sign, before ushering a waiter over and ordering a double-chocolate banana float- whatever that meant.

“It’s my secret recipe,” Richie confided. “My ma made it once, so I brought it here, and now it’s a Richie Tozier Exclusive!” He puffed his chest out, his thin arms on his hips. “Gee, Eds, you sharin’ ‘cause of that diet of yours? To lose those love handles? Or are ya just sc-”

“That will be quite enough, Richie,” Stan cut in crisply, and Richie shut up immediately. Funny how he could do that.

“Yes, cap’n!” Richie saluted, taking his drink from the server and taking a sip.

Eddie looked on with great interest, having been silent this whole time. “Can- can I try some, Rich?”

“Nope!” Richie replied emphatically, slurping with gusto and setting his mug down surprisingly tenderly.

“Well, that settles it,” He said suddenly.

“Settles what?” The four said at once.

Richie puffed his chest out yet again, and loomed at them over his ridiculous stance. “I’ll be hangin’ with y’alls tonight, since you’re such a barrel of laughs!”

The two pairs of- for lack of a better word- lovers looked at eachother in horror.

Oh, what had they gotten themselves into?

#sorry if you're disappointed!!!! i just dont do eds w gorls #ikk do most others and im looking to write more #bev #PLEASE REQUEST BEVVIE #BEV IS FAV #stanny.txt #stephen kings it #it #stan uris #bill denbrough #richie tozier #beverly marsh #eddie kaspbrak

19 notes · View notes

dccomicsnews · 8 years

Text

DC Comics News has compiled a list of DC Comics titles and collectibles shipping to comic shops for March 29, 2017.

Check back every Friday with the DC Comics News Pull Box to see all the cool new DC Comics titles and collectibles that will be available at your favorite local comic shop! So, what titles or collectibles will you be picking up this Wednesday? You can sound off in the comments section below! Click on Comic shop Locator to find the comic shop nearest to you!

COMICS

ADAM STRANGE FUTURE QUEST SPECIAL #1 $4.99 BATGIRL ANNUAL #1 $4.99 BOOSTER GOLD FLINTSTONES SPECIAL #1 $4.99 CLEAN ROOM #17 $3.99 DARK KNIGHT III MASTER RACE #8 (OF 9) $5.99 DOOM PATROL DIRECTORS CUT #1 $5.99 GREEN LANTERN SPACE GHOST SPECIAL #1 $4.99 HARLEYS LITTLE BLACK BOOK #6 $4.99 JUSTICE LEAGUE OF AMERICA #3 $2.99 KAMANDI CHALLENGE #3 (OF 12) $3.99 SUICIDE SQUAD BANANA SPLITS SPECIAL #1 $4.99 TITANS ANNUAL #1 $4.99 UNFOLLOW #17 $3.99

DCN Pull Box Triple Spotlight

SUICIDE SQUAD BANANA SPLITS SPECIAL #1 $4.99

(W) Antony Bedard, Mark Russell (A) Ben Caldwell, Dale Eaglesham (CA) Clyde Caldwell

“SUICIDE SPLITS”! Mistaken for metahumans, thrown in the bowels of Belle Reve, the animal rock band Banana Splits are recruited by Amanda Waller for a secret mission: to save the Suicide Squad! What follows is the weirdest team-up you never thought you’d see! How can Fleegle, Bingo, Drooper and Snorky stand up to Harley, Deadshot, Katana and Croc?! And in the backup feature, Snagglepuss is a Southern gothic playwright working with an ensemble cast of cultural figures, exploring an intensely creative time in the New York City theater scene of the 1950s…

GREEN LANTERN SPACE GHOST SPECIAL #1 $4.99

(W) James TynionIV, Christopher Sebela, Howard Chaykin (A) Howard Chaykin (A/CA) Ariel Olivetti

Trapped in a strange rift in time, Green Lantern and Space Ghost are forced to battle a variety of foes – and each other! And even if they manage to survive, they will be thrown into a world with no concept of interstellar travel – or even what an alien is! Stripped of their weapons by a xenophobic culture, the duo will have to battle to regain them – but what happens when Space Ghost dons the Emerald Ring and Hal Jordan put on the Power Bands? And in the backup feature, Ruff and Reddy were once the toast of nightclubs, variety shows, late night chat fests and Broadway. Learn how they became the comedic duo of yesterday… before they hit rock-bottom today!

ADAM STRANGE FUTURE QUEST SPECIAL #1 $4.99

(W) Marc Andreyko, Jeff Parker, Dan DiDio (A) Phil Winslade (A/CA) Steve Lieber

After the events of the DEATH OF HAWKMAN miniseries, Adam Strange is blasted through multiple dimensions only to land on Earth! There, instead of super-powered beings and legendary crime fighters, he encounters a boy adventurer and his scientist father – and they’re the only ones who can help him return home. Jonny Quest, Hadji, Dr. Quest and Race Bannon have a plan, but it’s going to involve a dangerous trek through Dino Boy’s Lost Valley of prehistoric threats! And in the backup feature starring Top Cat, breaking out of prison is challenging enough for a cat, but sometimes it means stumbling through a cosmic portal to planet Earth… and right into the hands of Batman!

Variant Covers

Note: Variant Prices To Be Determined By Retailer

ADAM STRANGE FUTURE QUEST SPECIAL #1 VAR ED $4.99 BOOSTER GOLD FLINTSTONES SPECIAL #1 VAR ED $4.99 DARK KNIGHT III MASTER RACE #8 (OF 9) (Klaus Janson variant) $5.99 DARK KNIGHT III MASTER RACE #8 (OF 9) (Jim Lee variant)$5.99 DARK KNIGHT III MASTER RACE #8 (OF 9) (Frank Miller variant)$5.99 DARK KNIGHT III MASTER RACE #8 (OF 9) (Riley Rossmo variant)$5.99 DARK KNIGHT III MASTER RACE #8 (OF 9) (Bill Sienkiewicz)$5.99 GREEN LANTERN SPACE GHOST SPECIAL #1 VAR ED $4.99 JUSTICE LEAGUE OF AMERICA #3 VAR ED $2.99 KAMANDI CHALLENGE #3 (OF 12) VAR ED $3.99 SUICIDE SQUAD BANANA SPLITS SPECIAL #1 VAR ED $4.99

GRAPHIC NOVEL

DOOM PATROL TP BOOK 03 $34.99 HELLBLAZER TP VOL 01 THE POISON TRUTH (REBIRTH) $16.99 SUPERGIRL BY PETER DAVID TP BOOK 02 $29.99 TEEN TITANS BY GEOFF JOHNS TP BOOK 01 $29.99 WONDER WOMAN & THE JUSTICE LEAGUE AMERICA TP VOL 01 $24.99

BOOKS

AGES OF THE JUSTICE LEAGUE SC $19.99 BATGIRL NEW HERO OF THE NIGHT YR SC $5.99 OFF DC SUPER HERO JOKE BOOK WHY DID BATMAN CROSS ROAD SC $12.99 WONDER WOMAN PSYCHOLOGY LASSOING THE TRUTH SC $14.95

MERCHANDISE/COLLECTIBLES

BATMAN 1966 PENGUIN 1/9 SCALE PLASTIC MOD KIT $34.99 BATMAN 1966 ROBIN 1/9 SCALE PLASTIC MOD KIT $34.99 BATMAN SYMBOLS ALL OVER PRINT CREW SOCKS $9.99 DC COMICS BATMAN GEO PATTERN PANEL UMBRELLA $15.99 DC COMICS FLASH SUIT UP BI-FOLD WALLET (RES) $19.99 DC COMICS HARLEY QUINN PANEL UMBRELLA $15.99 DC COMICS THE JOKER PANEL UMBRELLA $15.99 DC COMICS WONDER WOMAN PANEL UMBRELLA $15.99 DC COMICS WONDER WOMAN SILVER TIARA W/ GOLD STAR $20.99 DC HEROES ROBIN COSTUME LONG CAPE $34.99 DC SUPERMAN SHINY CAPE KNEE HIGH SOCKS $9.99 DC WONDER WOMAN SILVER 2PK CUFF BRACELET $23.99 HARRY POTTER DEATHEATER CREW SOCKS $9.99

ACTION FIGURES/STATUES

BATMAN ANIMATED BATMAN ROBIN MUTANT 3 PACK (RES) $70.00 BVS 3-PC SET 5.5IN BENDABLE FIGURE $32.99 BVS BATMAN 5.5IN BENDABLE FIGURE $9.99 BVS SUPERMAN 5.5IN BENDABLE FIGURE $9.99 BVS WONDER WOMAN 5.5IN BENDABLE FIGURE $9.99 DC BOMBSHELLS THE FLASH JESSE QUICK STATUE $125.00 DC COMICS BATMAN & ROBIN ARTFX+ STATUE 2PK $99.99 DC UNIVERSE GREEN LANTERN ARTFX STATUE $119.99 DESIGNER SERIES CONNER SPACESUIT HARLEY QUINN AF $28.00 DESIGNER SERIES CONNER TRADITIONAL HARLEY QUINN AF $28.00 NEW 52 BATMAN 8IN BENDABLE FIGURE $PI NEW 52 CYBORG 8IN BENDABLE FIGURE $PI NEW 52 FLASH 8IN BENDABLE FIGURE $PI NEW 52 JUSTICE LEAGUE 8IN BENDABLE FIGURE BOX SET $PI NEW 52 SUPERMAN 8IN BENDABLE FIGURE $PI NEW 52 WONDER WOMAN 8IN BENDABLE FIGURE $PI POP DC BOMBSHELLS BATGIRL VINYL FIG $10.99 POP DC BOMBSHELLS HARLEY QUINN VINYL FIG $10.99 POP DC BOMBSHELLS KATANA VINYL FIG $10.99 POP DC BOMBSHELLS WONDER WOMAN VINYL FIG $10.99 SDCC 2016 TLS X MOTU BEASTMAN & TRAP JAW MINI FIG 2PK $29.00 SDCC 2016 TLS X MOTU HE-MAN MINI FIG TOY COLOR VAR $16.00 SDCC 2016 TLS X MOTU PRINCE ADAM MINI FIG $16.00 SDCC 2016 TLS X MOTU STRATOS & MAN AT ARMS MINI FIG 2PK $29.00

Please comment below and don’t forget to like, share and follow us on:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/dccomicsnews

Twitter: @DCComicsNews

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/dccomicsnews/

Tumblr: http://dccomicsnews.tumblr.com

Instagram: @dccomicsnews

#gallery-0-4 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-4 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 25%; } #gallery-0-4 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-4 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

DC Comics Pull Box For 3-29-17 (New Comics and Merchandise) DC Comics News has compiled a list of DC Comics titles and collectibles shipping to comic shops for March 29, 2017.

15 notes · View notes

isslibrary · 7 years

Text

New Books (December)

Sorted by Call Number / Author. Some awesome stuff on this list (I added commentary). Thanks to the Jacobs family for some of these donations, to Mr. Colvin for the art history suggestions, and to students who requested materials. Mrs. Wald, we now have the first three

Magic Treehouse

books in Spanish. As always, if you can't find something, ask me or Mrs. VanHorn and we'll help.

296.1 U

Understanding the Dead Sea scrolls : a reader from the Biblical archaeology review. 1st ed. New York : Random House, ℗♭1992. A sourcebook of articles by the world's leading Dead Sea Scroll authorities.

303.66 Z

Zinn, Howard, 1922-. Artists in times of war. New York : Seven Stories Press, c2003.

** Highly Recommended -- and it's short **

305.38 W

Question bridge : Black males in America. First edition. Question Bridge assembles a series of questions posed to black men, by and for other black men, along with the corresponding responses and portraits of the participants. The questions range from the comic to the sublimely philosophical: from "Am I the only one who has problems eating chicken, watermelon, and bananas in front of white people?" to "Why is it so difficult for black American men in this culture to be themselves, their essential selves, and remain who they truly are?" The answers tackle the issues that continue to surround black male identity today in a uniquely honest, no-holds-barred manner. While the ostensible subject is black men, the conversation that evolves in these pages is ultimately about the nature of living in a post-Obama, post-Ferguson, post-Voting Rights Act America. Question Bridge is about who we are and what we mean to one another. Most critically, it asks: how can we start to dismantle the myths and misconceptions that have evolved around race and gender in America--how can we reset the narrative about ourselves, just as #blacklivesmatter has reset the narrative of civil protest? The founding artists, along with contributions from Ambassador Andrew Young, Jesse Williams, Rashid Shabazz, and Delroy Lindo, will introduce and contextualize the body of the work and provide closing remarks on our current and future social climate.

** This project happened at the Birmingham Museum of Art and it is really interesting **

305.409 D

Doyle, Sady. Trainwreck : The women we love to hate, mock, and fear... and why. Brooklyn, NY : Melvillle House, 2016.

659.1 W

Wu, Tim, author. The attention merchants : the epic scramble to get inside our heads. First edition. "From Tim Wu, author of the award-winning The Master Switch and who coined the phrase "net neutrality"--a revelatory look at the rise of "attention harvesting," and its transformative effect on our society and our selves. Attention merchant: an industrial-scale harvester of human attention. A firm whose business model is the mass capture of attention for resale to advertisers. In nearly every moment of our waking lives, we face a barrage of advertising enticements, branding efforts, sponsored social media, commercials and other efforts to harvest our attention. Over the last century, few times or spaces have remained uncultivated by the "attention merchants," contributing to the distracted, unfocused tenor of our times. Tim Wu argues that this is not simply the byproduct of recent inventions but the end result of more than a century's growth and expansion in the industries that feed on human attention. From the pre-Madison Avenue birth of advertising to TV's golden age to our present age of radically individualized choices, the business model of "attention merchants" has always been the same. He describes the revolts that have risen against these relentless attempts to influence our consumption, from the remote control to FDA regulations to Apple's ad-blocking OS. But he makes clear that attention merchants grow ever-new heads, and their means of harvesting our attention have given rise to the defining industries of our time, changing our nature--cognitive, social, and otherwise--in ways unimaginable even a generation ago"--.

759.2 R

Riley, Bridget, 1931- artist. Bridget Riley : works 1981-2015.

770.92 K

Sherman, Cindy, photographer, interviewee. Cindy Sherman, Imitation of life.

** If you enjoy taking selfies you should really look at this **

811.6 C

Collins, Martha, 1940-. White papers. Pittsburgh, Pa. : University of Pittsburgh Press, c2012. White Papers is a series of untitled poems that explore race from a variety of personal, historical, and cultural perspectives, questioning what it means to be "white" in a multi-racial society.

811.6 J

Jones, Ashley M. Magic City Gospel : poems. Spartanburg, SC : Hub City Press, 2016.

811.6 R

Rankine, Claudia, 1963- author. Citizen : an American lyric. Claudia Rankine's bold new book recounts mounting racial aggressions in ongoing encounters in twenty-first-century daily life and in the media. Some of these encounters are slights, seeming slips of the tongue, and some are intentional offensives in the classroom, at the supermarket, at home, on the tennis court with Serena Williams and the soccer field with Zinedine Zidane, online, on TV--everywhere, all the time. The accumulative stresses come to bear on a person's ability to speak, perform, and stay alive. Our addressability is tied to the state of our belonging, Rankine argues, as are our assumptions and expectations of citizenship. In essay, image, and poetry, Citizen is a powerful testament to the individual and collective effects of racism in our contemporary, often named 'post-race' society.

** Essential Reading **

891.71 B

Baratynsky, E. A., 1800-1844, author. A science not for the earth : selected poems and letters. First edition.

92 Goldman

92: Biographies are in the Biography Room

Goldman, Emma, 1869-1940. Living my life : abridged. Condensed ed. Anarchist, journalist, drama critic, advocate of birth control and free love, Emma Goldman was the most famous—and notorious—woman in the early twentieth century. This abridged version of her two-volume autobiography takes her from her birthplace in czarist Russia to the socialist enclaves of Manhattan’s Lower East Side. Against a dramatic backdrop of political argument, show trials, imprisonment, and tempestuous romances, Goldman chronicles the epoch that she helped shape: the reform movements of the Progressive Era, the early years of and later disillusionment with Lenin’s Bolshevik experiment, and more. Sounding a call still heard today, Living My Life is a riveting account of political ferment and ideological turbulence.

** Howard Zinn suggested reading this so I got it-- we need more biographies about women, so let me know if you have ideas! **

92 Guevara

Resnick, Marvin D. The black beret: the life and meaning of Che Guevara. New York, : Ballantine Books, [1970, c1969].

92 Joyce

Anderson, Chester G. James Joyce : with 124 illustrations. A biography of the Irish genius relating details of his life to the substance of his books.

92 Wright

Wright, Richard, 1908-1960. American hunger. First edition. A continuation of Richard Wright's autobiography, "Black Boy.".

ES F Osb

ES Section/Español is in the Reading Room

Osborne, Mary Pope. El caballero del alba. Lyndhurst, NY : Lectorum Publications, 2002.

ES F Osb

Osborne, Mary Pope. Dinosaurios al atardecer. Lyndhurst, NY : Lectorum Publications, 2002.

ES F Osb

Osborne, Mary Pope. Una momia al amanecer. Lyndhurst, NY : Lectorum Publications, 2002.

F Bac

Backman, Fredrik, 1981- author. A man called Ove : a novel. First Washington Square Press trade paperback edition. "A grumpy yet loveable man finds his solitary world turned on its head when a boisterous young family moves in next door"--Amazon.com.

F Bur

Burton, Jessie, 1982-. The miniaturist. First Harperluxe edition. Engaging the services of a miniaturist to furnish a cabinet-sized replica of her new home, 18-year-old Nella Oortman, the wife of an illustrious merchant trader, soon discovers that the artist's tiny creations mirror their real-life counterparts in eerie and unexpected ways.

F Pea

Pearson, Ridley. Dark Passage : Kingdom Keepers Book Six 6. New York, NY : Disney, 2013.

F Pea

Pearson, Ridley. Disney after Dark : Kingdom Keepers Book One 1. New York, NY : Disney, 2005.

F Pea

Pearson, Ridley. Disney at Dawn : Kingdom Keepers Book Two 2. New York, NY : Disney, 2008.

F Pea

Pearson, Ridley. Disney in Shadow : Kingdom Keepers Book Three 3. New York, NY : Disney, 2010.

F Pea

Pearson, Ridley. The Insider : Kingdom Keepers Book Seven 7. New York, NY : Disney, 2014.

F Pea

Pearson, Ridley. Power play. 1st ed. New York : Disney/Hyperion Books, c2011. For the five teens who modeled as Disney Hologram Imaging hosts, life is beginning to settle down when an intriguing video arrives to Philby's computer at school. It's a call for action: the Overtakers, a group of Disney villains, seem to be plotting to attempt a rescue of two of their leaders, both of whom the Disney Imagineers have hidden away somewhere following a violent encounter in Epcot. A staged attack by new Overtakers at Downtown Disney, startles the group. A dark cloud in the Kingdom Keeper era is unfolding, and with dissension in their own ranks, it's unclear if there's any chance of escape.

F She

Shelley, Mary Wollstonecraft, 1797-1851. Frankenstein. New York, NY : Signet Classics, 1965. The monster was supposed to be man's benefactor, but, scorned for his ugliness, he swears revenge on his creator and the human race.

SC Doy

Doyle, Arthur Conan, 1859-1930. Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. Racine, Wis., : Whitman Pub. Co., [1965].

0 notes