#if anyone has a reading list for ga hit me up

[stephaniebrownthespoiler]

the feminine urge to go read every green arrow comic literally ever

[st4rymoon]

𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘰𝘢𝘥

✶Joel Miller x Fem Reader ✶

Context: Joel decided to let you take watch while he takes a nap, but wakes up to you midway through an attempt to get some fresh air from the stuffy enclosure of the truck after he told you the one and only rule. Stay in the truck.

Warnings: 18+, age gap (reader is early twenties and Joel is in his late 40s), oral (m receiving), arguing, grumpy Joel, language, lists of sexual tension, very vocal Joel <3

“Give me the damn map!” Joel seethed, ripping it out of your hands in frustration as you jumped slightly in your seat. “I tell you to do one thing, one fuckin’ thing!” he muttered.

You were angry at Joel and yourself. You blame yourself for not learning how to read a map, but after all, there was no need for that in your life before the world turned upside down. “I told you I didn’t know what I was doing Joel! You don’t even bother to tell me how to read it or where we are,” you replied back in the exact cruel tone Joel used.

He gave you an infuriated look before he returned to reading the map. Joel decided to go nonverbal for the rest of the drive once he found his way back onto the freeway. Both of you sat in silence, your hands between your thighs as you anxiously bit your lower lip.

It was pitch black outside, the highlights of the truck only lighting up a short distance ahead. You noticed Joel's tired eyes. He was exhausted, so you decided to break the silence.

“You look tired. Why don’t you let me drive? It’s just straight down the highway, and we have a few hours left,” you said. “Let you drive? For you can get us lost again, no way,” he scoffed yet again.

“Fine, let's just pull over then. I’ll keep a lookout while you sleep.”

“I’m fine, not tired,” he sighs as he relaxes into his seat. Not even four minutes later, Joel almost hits an abandoned car as his eyes begin to slowly drift into sleep. He listens to you for once and pulls over into a small section of woods. “I told you,” you sighed as Joel made his way to the back seats.

He laughed sarcastically as he got comfortable and lectured you about what to do if you saw anyone, which is always to wake him up. “Remember, stay in the truck” he repeated for the millionth time.

A few minutes passed once you turned back to see Joel softly snoring with his mouth wide open. He always was one to drool in his sleep. You smiled to yourself, turning back around and getting comfortable.

You felt lucky to have met Joel, although he was almost always a bit hostile and cold to you. You blamed it on the whole zombie apocalypse situation. You’d run into each other while foraging for some food at a rusty old gas station and decided to stick together since then.

Life has consisted of shitty canned beans and a grumpy, bickering old man, but it’s safe. It’s perfect considering the conditions around the world.

Everything was going as expected while on your patrol. You sat in the front seat, poking your head up out of the sunroof every now and then. Making sure Joel was still asleep, you decided to sit on the sunroof, remove your shoes, and try your best not to make any noise.

Due to Joel's animal-like senses, he awoke the second your shoe made a slight thump. His eyes slightly opened, and he was faced with you removing your shirt, his eyes widening as you tossed it somewhere on your seat.

His eyes admired how your soft skin seemed to glow even when swallowed by darkness. You let out a frustrated moan at the heat inside the cramped truck and fanned yourself before pulling yourself up onto the roof.

Once Joel noticed you were trying to get onto the sunroof, his hand gripped your ankle and pulled you back into the stuffy truck. “Joel!” you gasped as you fell back and held onto his forearms.

He was still lying on his side as he glared at you in annoyance. “It’s fucking hot in here. I was just getting some fresh air and a better look out” you seethed. “When I tell you to stay in the truck, I mean stay in the fuckin’ truck, not on top of it” he groaned as he sat back up.

You didn’t know where to move as his legs kept you trapped between the front seats. You were uncomfortably sitting on the tiny armrest as he watched you squirm.

He felt like it was wrong of him to notice your tits nearly fall out of your cups as you reached back for your shirt. For fuck sake, you were in your early twenties, and he was in his late 40s.

Your tee was in your hands once you noticed Joel’s cheeks blush a soft red color. You glared down at yourself and laughed. “You’ve never seen a pair of tits or what?” you chuckled.

You’d never seen Joel stutter, ever.

“I- I, of course I have. It’s just-” he was cut off by how you chuckled. “Is Mr. Joel Miller nervous?” you tease with an accomplished pout. Joel tried to compose himself as he listened to you tease him.

“Watch it, missy” Joel scoffed as he put his shoes back on. All he needed to do was keep his hands, eyes, and lips to himself if he wanted to stay composed. How hard could that be?

Both of you sat there, unsure of what to do next as the tension grew. Everything was professional and platonic before this road trip, but by the way you both were eyeing each other at the moment, you knew there was something hidden inside both of you.

“And why are you flirtin’ and battin’ those pretty lashes at an old man like me?” he hummed. Your eyes widened in surprise as you finally heard something other than a scolding or an irritated scoff from him.

You smiled as you leaned closer to him. “I’m not battin’ nothin’,” you teased in his southern accent.

A groan left Joel’s lips as you sat on his lap, a side of you he’d never seen with his own eyes. “I’m just playing around, teasing.”You coyly smiled as his breath hitched at the friction of your hips. “But if I was flirting with an old man like you, it’s because I’d wanna see how easy it would be to make you hard,” you mocked.

He chuckled, his hands snaked onto your hip.“Just as easy as makin’ you jump on my lap and fuck yourself onto me, that’s how easy,” he bit back. “Well, when you look this good, how am I not to?” you pouted as you ran your hands through his hair.

Joel let out the prettiest moans as you played with his hair, silver locks tangling into your fingers as his head fell between your chest.

You shakily moaned as he bit a soft mark onto your plump tit and rewarded you with a soft hum. “I’m no good for you darlin’.”

Joel’s voice was breathy and scruffy as he purred onto your chest. His calloused hands ran up your back, playing with the flimsy material of your bra.

“I know what’s good for me.” you moaned while you dragged your hands down his flannel, slowly unbuttoning it while you both fucked each other through your clothes. “Mmh… You think I’m good for you?” he chuckled as his lips dragged up your neck and softly bit at your flesh.

You nodded in agreement as a flustered moan escaped your lips. Joel was so warm it was comforting, and the once stuffy car is no longer a problem for you as Joel’s hand moves you to face him.

“Answer me with words. I know you can.” he mocks as you continue to grind onto his lap.

“Yes, you’re good for me Joel, the only thing that’s good for me.” you shakily moaned into his palm. His large hand was wrapped around your mouth, watching you in amusement and desperation.

“That’s cute, honey. But we gotta keep a lookout?” he huffed as you pushed his hands out of your way and kissed his scruffy jaw.

Joel was trying his best to keep this situation under control, but with every pretty moan you let out, he lost an inch of sanity.

“Then keep a lookout.” You smiled onto his cheeks as you began to drift down to your knees. You heard a gasp leave his lips as you pressed your cheek onto his lap. “no distractions.” you purred as you hugged his waist.

You could feel him bulging through his jeans as you kissed his abdomen. “You’re real quiet Joel.” You smile up at him, and the sight you’re met is Joel with his fist clenched, mouth ajar, and forehead sweaty as he holds himself back.

Joel didn’t see himself as a man without self-control. In fact, he mastered it over the years, but he wasn’t as strong as he believed.

His muddy jeans were at his ankles, and his calloused fist held your hair up as he runted your mouth. You were teary-eyed and gagging as he gasped and moaned about how good you felt.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been since he’s experienced something this good. He was seeing stars as you worked your tongue around his base and up to his tip. “For fuc- fuck sake! Oh my god- jus’ like that” Joel was muttering to himself as he stared into your eyes.

“Just a pretty little thing, you’d be my personal pornstar if we had a camera” he seethed as you held onto his thighs for support. You noticed his thighs slightly begin to shake, prompting you to pick up your pace and hollow your cheeks.

The guttural moan that left Joel was animalistic and lewd as he held you still. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt him twitch into your mouth. Joel gasped for air as he rode out his high while his fingers buried in your hair.

“Ah- just like that darlin’ f- FUCK!” His jaw went slack as you slurped up his base and swallowed everything he gave you. Joel was still gasping for air as his hand ran down your hair reassuringly. You watched with a smile on your face as he swallowed his saliva and moaned one last time before his eyes opened up to admire you.

“I can be your little porn star huh?” you cooed as you lifted up from between his thighs and sloppily kissed him. Both of you let out a chuckle before he lifted you off his lap to fix himself back into his boxers.

“What did we get ourselves into”

[silverheartlugia2000]

DCXDP prompt

Ok, so there's plenty of Danny laying low or freaking out about the no meta rule, but I have this CRAVING of someone for once just explaining it to him? Like whoever bird or birds he's talking to just leans in and whispers "Wanna know a secret? That's mostly just a mind control precaution. I mean would you want to see Supes jacked up on fear gas? If the league do come over he prefers to be called first so he's close if something happens."   

Danny- "Oh... yeah that makes sense actually, that shit isn't fun to be under.."

"Wait is THAT why you have that string of robberies on your record?!"

"That and the time my whole town got possessed in order to make me look bad and get arrested.."

The bird then drags Danny into the cave to open Bruce's file on him, and they both sit down and fill in the gaps on the shadier spots of his record. Heck Danny eventually gives Bats a few thermoses and other less harmful but still disabling device blueprints to add to the contingency file cause even if Dan is in therapy and on probation he knows his shit luck will probably make it needed sooner rather than later and he knows how fast it will go bad.

It comes in very handy at the next gala when Vlad attempts to have a duplicate overshadow Bruce who refuses to take his business propositions. Vlad gets nosey before Danny pulls up his king rights and makes vlad take an Oath (the magic binding kind) to not mess with Bruce or his family or reveal any of their super identities to anyone at all. Constantine is there beforehand to read over the contract and outthink any loopholes before vlad can take advantage of them.

Danny gives them samples of ecto-dejecto for medical emergencies, the Bat's keep them refreshed and in stock especally after they meet Ellie and hear about her stability problems. With help from Frostbite and Danny's ok they start working on a more reliable formula just for Ellie's sake.

Yes Jason is calmer around the halfas and he is slowly stabilizing enough form a proper core from it, (not an instant fix this time!) whether hes becoming a true halfa, more towards a remnant, or both they arent sure. But one night when the phantoms arent around Jason is having a bad time, reacting from something he was hit with during a fight. Tim just grabs one of the ecto-pens on a whim and it just flushes out the toxin so fast Jay passes out. When he wakes up his core has had a good growth spurt, its still not complete yet but he's beginning to get some minor abilities, the Phantom sibs start coaching him before it gets strong enough for Jason to turn completely intangible and if Jay starts complaining? Clockwork whisks them ALL up to the tower for a home movie night of Danny's greatest fails. Grampa has a collection, good and bad XD. Yes Danny is cringing in shame while eating Clockwork's ecto cookies but Jason is slowly starting to understand the importance of getting the basics right cause he does NOT want to accidentally sink completely under the ground without being able to get back out no thank you!!

What core type would he get anyway? Shadow's like Johnny because of the stealth perks? Earth to prevent being buried again? Would he have literature as a secondary obsession cause obviously he's gonna follow Danny into the family/protection category but since Danny also has a space obsession why not?

He puts Jazz's name in the list of superhero safe therapists, the fact she's already making waves at Arkam is only boosting her reputation. Especially once they read her paper on ghost obsessions and how sometimes they are comparable to hyper-fixations in autistics in the way they both satisfy and promote healthy growth for a ghosts physical and mental state but also how being deprived of them or forced to go against them can be severely harmful to their literal health.

And that was one thing the birds kept tripping on to understand whenever they needed to bench one of the halfas but they would end up just hovering around NEEDING to be helpful no mater how much they are told to go back to bed. They also get a whole new understanding on what happened to Dan cause yeah his whole timeline is based on loosing his family and retaliating out of grief.

So from then on the halfas are allowed to help with little tasks as long as they do not strain their recovery at all. Whenever Danny gets sickly and depressed they take him up to the watch tower, Ellie gets lessons in different languages so she can interact more when they let her join them on international trips, Jason gets set loose in a newly discovered bookstore when the manor's or Bab's library isn't enough, and Dan.. they're still figuring him out but he seems to enjoy wrecking little play city set ups and games where you play as the monster like Godzilla or Rampage along with general ghost sibling rough housing. (Lilo and Stitch is his favorite movie but you'd be hard pressed to get him to admit it,)

As for ships, definitely anger management. Jason becomes an unofficial fourth Phantom sib. Platonic everlasting trio cause Danny loves his friends and they will pet him like a cat for hours while his tail coils around them possessively like a giant snake and still make memes of it when he's grumpy. Brain dead is fun also, especially if Danny or the others are capable of Little Baby Man form and Tim has to fight Damian for cuddle rights! Bats has his usual girls but hey superman isn't that bad to hang around either.

[dr4kenlvr]

𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑 !!

feat. mikey sano, draken, baji keisuke, chifuyu matsuno, mitsuya takashi (reader is mentioned here and there too!) - crack/humour/fluff (1.2k+)

nana's note: can toman boys drive cars?? no keep reading to find out about the boys and their driving habits!! spoiler alert: in no way should you drive like them please don't listen to this post LMAO

MIKEY

to mikey, the written test wasn't too bad—he went in, sat in his little cubicle, and got through the questionnaire without too much issue

dude couldn't lie though, he was sweating bullets at the demerit point questions FR

but of course, mikey boasts to everyone (especially baji but we'll get to that later) about his success, and is very excited to hit the road

didn't realize just how small being behind a car wheel feels until he sits and needs to bump the seat up a few notches LMAO

baji teases him: "you need heels on to reach the pedals, too? HAHHAHA"

is constantly driving with an :0 expression

"oh my god, the car is moving ken, im making the car move—ken, look!"

"yes mikey, your foot is on the gas pedal."

cheers when he does a left turn successfully, because fuck are those a pain in the ass sometimes

sometimes forgets to signal, and has been flipped off a few times for almost crashing in front of the car behind him

"oops!"

mikey absolutely has a snack stash in his trunk too—it's filled, and always being refilled, with sweets, savoury treats, and drinks

"y/n, could you grab me a bag of chips please? any flavour!" he yells from the front

???? what ????—you crane your head back to a fucking kitchen of snacks like it's normal for anyone to have that much

occasionally gets extremely tired at the wheel, and shuts his eyes for two seconds at a red light

it's either a honk waking him up or ken profusively cursing at him

"oops!" x2

DRAKEN

now i don't wanna be bias (user dr4kenlvr, am i right), but ken is probably the second best driver on this list

written test wise, he passed on the first try

wasn't too difficult, and the lady at the desk even congratulated him with a warm smile, to which he happily returned

he got use to the mechanisms of the car pretty quickly

all of these gears and switches were like second nature to him, considering how much he works with motorbikes on the regular

likes to play music as he drives, it varies depending on the time of day it is

nice r&b on a night drive is always his favourite though

once draken gets really comfortable with the wheel, he'll have an arm hanging out the window

heavenly sigh—he looks really good <3

never drove alone with just his G1, despite his delinquent reputation

good job ken!!

one thing though: he has an oddly high level of road rage LMFAOOO

draken thinks it's probably because he's in a car—surrounded by 4 walls—rather than being out in the open like on a bike

people can't hear him curse the living hell out of them with the windows up so...

"what the FUCK, ASSHOLE?—CAN'T SEE I'M TRYNA FUCKIN' PASS?"

"SIGNAL NEXT TIME, YOU BITCH."

"ARGHHH—QUIT YOUR HONKING YOU DICK! I HEAR 'YA"

"WHY IS THIS GUY UP MY FUCKING ASS."

yeah, he gets loud LMAOO and vulgar

with his viens popping out and shit, he probably looks crazy if you pull up next to him in the adjacent lane

just don't look over, you'll be okay

HELP

same ken

BAJI

this mf spent months studying for the written test

he was extremely keen on doing well too, because he wanted the luxury of being able to finally drive a car

baji also wanted to be able to drive his mother to and from work, so that she "wouldn't have to take public transit all the time"

love you keisuke

created study nights with chifuyu, where the boys would quiz each other on repetitive shit like signs

"okay, what's this one?"

"uhh.. there's like a merry-go-round ahead?"

"wha—? d'you mean a ROUNDABOUT???"

he had the right spirit, so chifuyu gave him a point either way AHSDHDSHF

time rolled around and baji declared him finally ready to take on the test and..

...he passed!! yay keisuke !!!

dude wanted to explode from the sheer relief, he literally picked you up and spun you around 18 times out of happiness

BUT THIS MF ON THE ROAD IS SO FUCKING WILD—he's good with the wheel, but like there's always something going on in his car

you could get whiplash by how fast he goes sometimes

he doesn't even mean to

50 maximum but he's going 80

"YOU'RE GONNA GET PULLED OVER OR KILL SOMEONE, KEI' SLOW DOWN."

"oH—FUCK, SORRY! sorry!"

also is a huge multitasker - and isn't too shabby at it

he could be calling someone via bluetooth speaker, while eating, while scratching his back, while signalling into the right lane ALL AT ONCE

miraculous how he doesn't have even a scratch or dent yet to be honest

idk man, just make sure you have your seatbelt on at all times, kay'?

CHIFUYU

i think he gets a little too excited every time he gets behind the wheel

like hes giggling with every lane change or right turn

literally fucking SCREAMS when he sees a cat walk on the road

"NOOOOOOOOOOO—"

"chifuyu, it's fine! it walked back. K-KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE ROAD!"

has a cushion specifically for peke j in the back seat where no one can sit or move it to sit

"ahh no. that's peke j's spot, you can sit in the trunk or something."

baji: "are you fucking kidding me."

LMAO

speaking of peke j, he has a component in his trunk filled with toys and cat food for him

it's honestly really sweet, how much he cares and cherishes his little cat

you can't find the heart to be too angry with him when you find cat fur stuck to the seats

i think chifuyu has a lot of fucking fast food garbage in his car too

his mom (and you) is always up his ass about it:

"CLEAN YOUR DAMN GARBAGE MATSUNO. THIS IS A CAR, NOT A LANDFILL."

like, you would sit in the passenger seat and at your feet there's just wrappers and straws and shit

you look at him with a look that just speaks volumes of "really?"

and he's all (｡╹ω╹｡)

it's an honest mistake <3

MITSUYA

oh god—the most responsible driver out of his friends by FAR

he is so so happy when he passes, because he is able to get things done quicker with a car than by walking

dropping/picking up his sisters from school, escorting his mother to places, getting groceries, visiting his friends, just about everything in his life is made 10x easier and faster

mitsuya's car ALWAYS smells good

he's always got a new car freshener hooked onto his rearview mirror when the scent runs out

his favourite is lavender <3 and his sisters like the fruity ones but they make his and your's nose tickle

DRIVES WITH ONE HAND ON YOUR KNEE !!!!!

and he does that fucking cute side smile when he talks to you but also needs to pay attention to the road

AHHH <3

LOVES to bring his sisters on drives around the neighbourhood once he gets his full license

plays their favourite songs and sings out loud with them

it'll be cartoon openings and disney soundtracks but he doesn't mind

not when the grin on your's and his sister's faces are so bright and genuine

omfg - picnics where you two set up food in the trunk and watch luna and mana play at the playground

and they rush over when they're hungry to eat and rest

HOW FUCKING CUTE AND PERFECT

MITSUYA TAKASHI IS PERFECT

taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu @kazuhoya @gwynsapphire @sscarchiyo @reiners-milkbiddies @smileyswifeyy @bontensimp-blog @thisbicc @megumisemo (send me an ask or dm to be added!)

reblogs and comments are very appreciated!

[harlequin-hangout]

For a Mortal Chapter 1

Series Master List | Loki Master List

Part 2 >

Pairing: Dom!Loki x f!Reader

Warnings: Self esteem problems, self deprecation, ⚠️abuse (past, not from Loki)⚠️, minor breaking and entering

Contains: Maybe angst, definitely a little fluff

Word Count: 3.2k

Dividers are made by me! Want some for yourself? Send me an ask!

I do not nor will I ever give permission for my writing to be copied, pasted, reposted to other sites, or edited in any way shape or form. Seriously, just don’t.

A/N: This was inspired by this ask by @michelleleewise​. This is my first attempt at writing any kind of fan fiction, so please be kind. I’m hoping to get better, though inspiration doesn’t strike as often as I’d like. I may turn this into an ongoing series, I haven’t completely decided yet. I hope you all like it!!

“FUCK!!”

Your phone hits the bed and bounces to the floor. You threw it harder than you meant to. Sighing through your gritted teeth, you pick up the device. At least the screen wasn’t cracked, but your case had definitely busted when it hit the ground. You had just hung up a call with your boss. The company wasn’t bringing in cash flow, which meant for the second month in a row, you weren’t going to get paid. At least he had told you that you didn’t need to come into the office until there was money again. You take a deep breath and press the heels of your hands into your eyes, as if the pressure could stop the stress and the headache it was about to bring on. 

“God, I don’t want to know how much I’m short,” you think to yourself as you pull the busted case off of your phone and open your banking app. A pit forms in your stomach as you realize your account is overdrawn by $56.41. Well . . . Ramen again tonight. It isn’t the healthiest, but anything is better than being hungry.

It’s been two weeks since your last conversation with anyone in the small startup company you work for. You can feel the exhaustion creeping in, trying to find freelance work while donating plasma just to make sure you can eat has taken its toll on you. Your phone vibrates in your pocket. The caller ID reads “Darren Albright”. Dammit. It’s your boss.

“Yeah, what’s up?” you answer, trying to not let your exhaustion show through in your voice.

“Hey, Y/N, we need to talk. You’ve barely done any work since the last time you were in the office. I feel like I’m just a paycheck to you, and I’m not okay with that. We talked when you came on board, I have decades of experience in production, but this company is still essentially a start-up and Rob and I both work for free, and it’s insulting that you don’t even try to come in to help out. I always go out of my way to help out friends, and I just thought you’d do the same. I’ve offered you gas money to come out here if you need it, we’re all in the same boat here. I’m broke too. I haven’t paid my mortgage for this month, so don’t tell me it isn’t possible.”

You don’t really process the rest of what Darren says as you stare at the wall in disbelief. 

Not working . . . ? You’ve been working for free for over two months. The only difference is you’ve been working from home instead of from the office. You can’t help it if you live an hour away. Hell, it isn’t the same boat. Darren lives in the office, owns the company, and when you were in the office, you mostly saw him playing around on an art app while you worked. You knew you were signing on to a startup, but you’d been reassured that you’d be paid at least something. You mumbled apologies that you don’t really mean as you hang up the phone. First it was his now ex-girlfriend, Crystal, doxxing you online after harassing you for days on end because she somehow got it in her head that you and Darren were sleeping together. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Sure, Darren was tall, but he wasn’t your type at all. The bushy beard just didn’t do it for you. Your type was a bit more . . . sleek. Sleek, dark, put together . . . You sigh as you try to fight back your tears. 

What the hell were you doing? Was this even worth it? You’d worked so hard to break into the world of production. You worked with all three of Darren’s companies, and had built the backend for two of them. You spent every day maintaining those backends, running admin, and doing literally anything he called and asked you for, including finding and making proposals for marketing clients, something you’d had to teach yourself just to be able to do the job. You lost your fight as tears start to run down your face. How could he say those things? You’d worked yourself mostly to death trying to make the situation work, and he thinks you’ve done nothing because you aren’t being paid? You choke back a sob, leave your apartment unlocked,  and just run. You run towards the woods and don’t look back. Branches whip at your skin as you break off the narrow walking path, just wanting to be as far away from everything that’s been causing you to nearly break. Finally, coming to a clearing, you drop to your knees and wail at the top of your lungs. Sobs wrack your form as you let out all the emotion that’s been building over the last months. You don’t like being vulnerable around others, so this is the only safe place you know where you can let everything out.

“Why?? Why am I fucking killing myself for someone who obviously doesn’t give a fuck about me?? Why . . . why am I here? Why am I trying so hard? . . . Why did I think I could do this?” You choke, your self doubt taking control. In all honesty, you couldn’t answer those questions. You’d long since seen a point in continuing to follow your dream career, maybe it was just better to get a regular job. You knew you’d hate it, but at least you knew your bills would be paid.

As your sobs quieted, you wiped your tears on your sleeves and slowly made your way back to your apartment. Nightfall had long since passed. When did it get dark? It didn’t really matter, as the numb feeling across your whole body makes it hard to care about much of anything. Locking your front door, you pull off your now dirt-stained clothes and take a deep breath. You didn’t really remember getting back to the apartment, or much since you left. You just wanted this to be over. For the stress to be gone. And more than anything, for support. You look upwards, and for the first time in years, you pray.

“Please, whoever’s listening, I don��t care. Please. PLEASE give me some encouragement. I can’t keep doing this, and I don’t even know if my dreams are worth it anymore. Please . . . Just send me a sign that I shouldn’t give up . . .” You fall ungracefully onto the bed, not bothering to put on the pajamas that lay on your floor. As you fall into a deep sleep, you fail to hear the soft, almost magical hum that floats through the air and miss the soft touch that brushes your temples. A tall figure kneels next to your bed as you start to toss and turn as your mind turns to nightmares.”

You bold upwards in bed, cold sweat drenching your body. You could have sworn that you felt someone’s presence. . . You rub your bleary, sleep-filled eyes as you look at your phone. 3:47am . . . what the hell were you doing awake? You know one thing, though, once you’re up, you need to get something to drink before you can sleep again. You padded towards your kitchen, but an unfamiliar scent stops you dead in your tracks. What was that . . . Fir trees, sandalwood and . . . leather? You cautiously take the last couple steps and peek around the corner. An unlit candle that had definitely NOT been bought by you sat on your counter on top of an emerald green envelope with “Dear Y/N” scrawled on it in an elegant cursive hand. Turning it over in your hand, you break the gold colored wax seal that depicts two snakes intertwined. Where have you seen that before?

Dear Y/N,

I am sorry to hear that you are not receiving the support or recognition that you deserve. I have learned in my long life that sometimes the only ones we can rely on is ourselves, and if these people do not support you, they are not worthy of your greatness. My Dear, your dream, your passion is always worth your efforts. Do it for you, because it is what you desire and you will succeed, I have no doubt. You are a strong, independent, intelligent person . . . for a mortal. Never doubt yourself, My Dear. Should you ever find yourself in need of one who can see your worth, then just light this candle. I wish you all the best in your pursuits and remember . . . You can do whatever you set your mind to. Until we meet . . .

Loki

The name was elegantly scrolled, even if the word choice was a bit odd. The entire letter . . . Loki. Who was he? How did this get in your kitchen? Your windows had been painted shut by the complex, and you were relatively sure you had locked the door behind you when you came back inside . . . Not that it mattered. The numb feeling didn’t seem to want to leave. You couldn’t even bring yourself to care about your own personal safety. Maybe a shower would help you relax enough to sleep. After the letter, you couldn’t bring yourself to crawl back into bed. Still . . . You eye the candle, your hands mindlessly tracing the paper in your hands. 

“Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to have someone . . . I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? My bathroom doesn’t have any windows. There’s no way anyone could see it,”  you think to yourself as you grab the candle and head towards the bathroom.

The steam feels amazing on your skin already as you get the water near scalding in preparation for your shower. If you’re going to do this at 4am, you might as well do it right. You place your towels and bathrobe on the hook on the back of the bathroom door and glance at the candle. You still hadn’t really decided whether or not to light it. It was a deep green and scented like the forest that you ran into to escape the reality of life. That still didn’t account for the leather and sandalwood you’d smelled, though. Fuck it, at least if some random snuck into your bathroom, there was about a 50/50 chance that he’d just put you out of your misery. You flick your lighter and the familiar scent of pine fills the room. You sigh and step into the steam-filled stall, running your fingers through your hair.

“I really wish you wouldn’t think such things about yourself, Darling.”

You freeze as the deep voice fills the room. He spoke softly, almost as if he were your friend. You whip your head around to see a man in a black suit sitting on your toilet, directly across from the entrance to the shower. You almost want to scream but . . . 

“I . . . Do I know you? I mean I know I’ve never met you, but I feel like . . . I mean . . .” You fumble your words. The man’s sudden appearance should have been the thing to catch you off guard, but it was . . . Him. His features were somehow soft, yet stern at the same time. The green of his eyes almost perfectly matched the candle and stationary. His jawline was regal, just like his posture. The suit was well fitted, and you could vaguely make out the tone of his arms. Not to mention, those LEGS. The look of gentle worry that graced his features . . . for some reason, it put you at ease. 

Wait. The eyes. Could this be . . . “Loki?” Your voice is almost a whisper as you stand in the water’s heat, hands tucked gently against your chest. The man gave a soft smile, and what seemed like . . . Relief?

“Yes, My Dear. It’s me. I was worried you wouldn’t recognize me. I must say, I’m pleasantly surprised.” His voice was comforting, yet his tone was that of someone who was undoubtedly in charge. “I must apologize for the sudden entrance, I didn’t expect you to light that thing so soon.” You eyed the man, with both curiosity and apprehension. When you did not speak, he continued. “You are such a clever mortal, though I would guess that your waking memory doesn’t know much of your dreams.”

“N-no, I really don’t remember when I dream, but what does that have to do with anything? Why do you keep calling me ‘Mortal’? It’s almost as if you’re implying that you aren’t.” Loki smirks, one eyebrow raised.

“Little mortal, I am a God. You prayed, and I answered. Isn’t that what you wanted? ‘Whoever’s listening’, I believe, were your exact words?” You stand there, dumbfounded. “I have seen your nightmares and I must say, you are definitely a capable mortal. So determined. You have so much life in you, why would you give it up now?”

“I . . . I mean, if Darren doesn't see all the work I do, if he doesn’t think I’m valuable, then why should I try?”

“Then tell me, why does Mr. Albright deserve your efforts and your loyalty? What has he done? I see a large potential in you, My Dear, and I would like to offer you something. However, first I must confirm my suspicions. If I may?” Loki motions at your temples. After only a couple seconds of hesitation, you kneel in front of the God sitting in your bathroom. The pleased hum doesn’t escape your notice and you smile just faintly enough that you hope he didn’t see. 

Your eyes flash the moment Loki’s cold fingers touch your temple, and suddenly you’re back in your abuser’s house. 

It was winter, and he was drunk. He had lost his phone cord and blamed you he’s screaming, the bourbon on his breath obvious. 

“You’re a shit girlfriend! You’re a shit girlfriend now, and you were a shit girlfriend when I met you, that’s why you were single. Go die!!” As he pushes past you, he punches a hole in the wall, mere inches from your head. You fight to keep your face still and unfeeling, hoping that he’ll go back to his office and leave you to lock yourself in the guest room. 

The scene shifts, and you find yourself in that same guest room. 

You’re bracing against the locked door with all your body weight. No matter how heavy you try to make yourself, you can feel the door start to budge. You make the split second decision to unlock it and let him in, as it will be much worse on you if he has to break in. You retreat into your mind and try to tune him out as he rants and screams about his right to grab your throat. You had fought him in his office when he had grabbed you and tried to sexually assault you. You got away, but at what cost?

Scene after scene flashes before your eyes, each more traumatizing than the last. Finally, Loki comes back into focus in front of you. You hastily grab the trash can beside the toilet and heave into it, bile being the only thing in your system to come up. You cough, and you feel a gentle hand rub your back as you fight to regain your composure.

“Little mortal . . . You’ve been through so much. You are so strong, and are worthy of someone who can see your value. Stand.” You push yourself up, leaning on Loki for support as you steady your face, willing it to neutrality. He clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Now darling, we’ve moved quite a ways past that. Shower.” You step into the stall, feeling the warmth wash over you. “May I?” The God reaches for the shampoo bottle on the floor of the shower, seemingly unbothered by his suit getting wet. You sit obediently near the shower’s door, and he sits behind you, gently massaging the product into your hair. He takes gentle care to not pull or scrub too hard. You rinse when he tells you to, and hand him the conditioner. As he works the second product into your hair, he sighs. “I did not realize the extent of your abuse. You did not deserve what that ant of a man did to you. Please, take your own wants and needs into consideration when you hear my offer.” 

You chew your lip, unsure of how to respond. Do you even remember how to do things for yourself? You could take care of your own necessities, but this is different. When was the last time you’d done something just because you’d wanted to?

“I . . . I don’t even know what I need, much less want. Not anymore.” Your eyes never leave the floor of the shower. Loki’s movements don’t falter as he carefully chooses his words.

“Darling, I have been inside your mind. I know your wants, your needs, your fears and desires, your passions and your sorrows. You want someone to dominate you, but not for the thrill or gratification. No, your desire is much less selfish than that. You desire trust. You want to trust someone enough that you feel confident handing over control. To trust that they have your best interests at heart, and will always act with your needs taken into account. Rinse.” You stand, silently mulling what he says over in your mind.

“And what if you’re wrong? What if I want to be the one with the reins?” He chuckles, a small smile playing his lips. 

“Then, Y/N, take those wants into account when you make your decision. However, I can guarantee I am not wrong. You would give up control so willingly if someone had your wellbeing in mind. Just like you did for me. With the shower.”

Goddammit. He was right. You hadn’t even realized what you were doing. Was he telling the truth? Could your outlook be so skewed that basic care and consideration is all you really want? 

“Well then, Darling, now it is time for your choice. Come with me. I’ve been watching your drive and your passion for some time, and you are worthy of my attention. Of my care. Come with me, and let me earn the trust that you so crave to share with another being. I promise, you’ll be safe with a God.” You blink in disbelief. Is he offering you a way out? A way to get away from Darren, from the bills, from not always knowing where your next meal was coming from? Was this truely a fresh start?

“And what if I’m not strong enough to build that trust? What if I’m too far gone?” Your voice is soft, uncertain. Loki gently cups your chin and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him.

“Darling, I know you can do it. You can come back from whatever dark place those undeserving insects have left you. You are so, very strong . . . For a Mortal.” You beam and take Loki’s hand. As his Seidr envelops you in a green glow, you think for the first time in forever that maybe, just possibly, everything might be alright.

[strangermoons]

The Beat Has Just Begun - chapter 7 extras

A lot happened in this chapter! This post is... not really about any of that. Have a grab-bag of research notes instead.

Blizzards were introduced in 1985, and were a huge hit. Here's an article I found from 1986, and here's a Reddit thread with a vintage Blizzard ad.

Baggage carousels may seem pedestrian now, but they were space-age shit in 1962 when the TWA Flight Center was built at what is now known as JFK International Airport. The TWA Flight Center was apparently not the first airport terminal to have baggage carousels - this report (PDF link) by the New York Landmarks Preservation Commission cites a 1963 article saying carousels already existed in Montreal and San Francisco - but they were still a very new idea.  Before baggage carousels you had to search for your bag in a baggage rack. Like you know how you get those little trucks with a train of baggage carts behind them on the runway? Imagine trying to find your bag in that mess. Anyway, by the time Steve and his mom flew TWA from IND to JFK sometime in the mid-70’s there was probably also a baggage carousel at the airport in Indiana, but Steve would have encountered the one at JFK first. Sure, it’d been around for at least a decade by then, but that really isn’t such a long time, and kids are easily impressed. It may also have been the only time Steve’s ever been on an airplane, despite being a rich kid. Air travel is a lot cheaper and more accessible than it used to be.

Park Slope in Brooklyn was indeed full of lesbians in the 60's and 70's (and beyond). I did a lot of googling when trying to pick a home for Aunt Mary and Daisy, and, well, can’t go wrong with a place some in the community affectionately called ‘Dyke Slope’.

I spent a lot of effort looking for prescription drugs that had both a period-accurate street name and the right kind of pharmacological effects for Steve's case. I eventually settled on Demmies/Demerol (generic name pethidine/meperidine) and confirmed that the slang term existed at the time through Google Books. (If the link doesn't work it was supposed to go to a list on page 375 of a book called Clinical Diagnosis and Management by Laboratory Methods from 1984. Fic research: serious business.)

Smoking is bad for wound healing, score one for Steve.

I don’t specify in the story because Steve’s not likely to notice or care, but in my head Erica is reading Sweet Valley High #2, published 1983.

The Amoco brand name dates back to the 1920’s, and from what I can tell there were gas stations by that name in America until 2001, and then the brand name was reintroduced in 2017? That’s what Wikipedia would have me believe, anyway. Hawkins, like the small town I'm low-key drawing on when I write it, is about 60% gas stations by volume.

Is any of this interesting to anyone? I hope so. I'll keep on typing it up either way, because I can't help it.

[asexy-phoenix]

Fic Recs Galore

We’re still going!

shake it, baby (you know it won’t last) by BannedBloodOranges

alright so this one isn’t a fic, it’s an AMV of Who Framed Roger Rabbit all about Jessica: how she sees herself and how others draw her. It’s great, and the music is perfect, timing too. The whole thing is awesome

Traffic Signs by Gazyrlezon

this one isn’t exactly fanfiction either...two for two here lol. It’s an original work about a post-apocalyptic teen and is SO good! Introspective, calming, eerie in some moments. I want to see this in a book so bad

also it was inspired by a tumblr prompt so we’re coming full circle on this one!

From Grace by silver_fish

features: hurt/comfort, Harry being Harry and refusing to talk about his problems, some actual good severitus, Harry getting help during Order of the Phoenix, and yet another reason why everyone else should be given the reins to Harry Potter 

Ghosts We Know by klmeri

classic Star Trek shenanigans, featuring McSpirk, friendship, humor, ghosts (maybe), and fluff! I love the original series and the fact that it inspires fic like this is one of the reasons why

Gordon Korman Never Wrote a Zombie Story (And Now We Know Why) by nightwalker

did you ever want to read a Macdonald Hall story but make it a zombie apocalypse? If yes, this story is for you. All the characters are aged up but still in-character and the end of the world being nigh doesn’t stop any of the hijinks

Event Horizon by eponymous_rose

this is a story where nothing important happens and yet it all feels right and happy, much like Corner Gas itself

this crazy game by kiwigirl

The Soulmate Goose of Enforcement, aka a goose that chases you around until you find your soulmate and kiss them. Featuring Steve Rogers and Darcy Lewis! A very fun story with the worst sort of goose

A Goose in the Study by KateKintail

possibly the most random story on my list, this is a John/Sherlock/Greg story with a soulmate goose. By turns funny, sweet, and soft, this concept has no right to be as good as this story makes it. If you like random hijinks, go read it

A Skein in Flight by SharpestScalpel

an intergalactic space goose soulmate AU featuring McSpirk and hurt/comfort. Surprisingly emotional for such a ridiculous concept, I highly recommend it

The Noice Place by thinlizzy2

what if the first time around, Michael got a squad of detectives in his Good Place? It’s exactly as much fun for him as it sounds: none. But plenty for the readers! It’s hilarious, made me laugh and the character voices are pitch perfect

Rules by mazabm

Summer and Morty coping together and making rules so they can be accountable and not follow the paths of their family. It’s tragic and haunting and hits way too close to home for anyone who grew up in a dysfunctional family. It’s also so good and you should read it

A Land So Wild and Savage by elanne

this one is interesting. It’s a character study of Charles and Caroline Wilder; the wanderlust that drove him and the need for stability she she understood deeper than he did. The prose in this one is lyrical and wonderful

Macdonald Hall is Fabulous by Nimori

Boots has a problem. Bruno is going to fix it. Along the way, there will be hijinks and shenanigans. This feels like a classic Macdonald Hall adventure and in some ways feels more like Gordon Korman’s works than Korman’s writing these days. Very good story, highly recommend

Poor Timing by Walutahanga

a what-if universe for a series almost no one has read! This is an alternate universe for the Wayfarer Redemption series and is a great exploration of the butterfly effect in that particular universe

Revelations For The Faithful by DesertScribe

a drabble about The Road to El Dorado where Chel was always a goddess. For being only 100 words long, this is gorgeous and moving and I like it a lot. If you have fond memories of this movie, go read this fic

Soft by Halja

“Hades worries entirely too much. Persephone might be soft and pretty, but she’s not made of glass” a story of Hades and Persephone with self-doubt and reassurance, love and beauty, and beautifully written

Apotheosis by Maria_and_Aguilars_Codex_1492

I have no idea what to say about this story other than it’s amazing. It features Rosalie from Twilight as she navigates her life, tries to understand who she is, and eventually realizes what her purpose is. The whole thing is shocking and awe-inspiring. Even if, maybe especially if, you hate Twilight go read it.

Kissing Destiny Full on the Lips by GwenTheTribble

soulmates are a special kind of magic in the wizarding world. Here’s the story of ten of them. 

there is a story of Sirius and Bellatrix being soulmates in here, it’s not the healthiest relationship so maybe skip that one if it squicks you out

The White String of Fate by Anonymous

an aromantic Luna Lovegood finds a soulmate, just not in the way she expects. I just love soulmate AUs that make room for aro and ace people and this is one of them!

sentiment is a chemical defect by Sanna_Black_Slytherin

Sherlock is asexual, John doesn’t realize. There’s an argument, a love confession, a kiss, and a happily ever after.

quid pro quo by Sanna_Black_Slytherin

two asexual secret agents trying to seduce each other and being increasingly confused by amatonormativity, but maybe actually falling for each other along the way?? Thomas Jefferson and James Madison are great at this, y’all

Middle Watch by Verecunda

did you ever want more romantic pining by middle-aged men in your historical novel? Good news! This story about Treasure Island is for you!

Home is the Sailor by Verecunda

Treasure Island now with more gay domesticity than ever before! Livesey/Trelawney has given me a whole new ship for a centuries-old story, it’s fine

How a Husband Should Be by Anonymous

Hector and Imelda have been rebuilding their relationship and now they’re ready to move onto the next step. Except...Hector isn’t sure he can keep lying to Imelda anymore. This story is lovely and soft with angst and comfort in all the right places, plus it comes with illustrations!

The Besotted Breathe Deeply by Chancy_Lurking

Another fic of Sherlock returning after Reichenbach with so much more love and emotion put into it than the BBC showrunners could ever dream of. It’s soft and lovely and I read it every time I want a good reunion fic for John and Sherlock

Tunnel by Silverlace_Vine

There’s a tunnel collapse and Steve has to struggle to escape even though he knows the others are dead. This story is good and you should read it - I can’t tell you any more than that

The Diary of Rachel Whitsett by vaspider

In the Newsflesh series, any mammal over a certain weight can spontaneously turn into a zombie. What does that mean for dog breeders? This is a down-to-earth story that is all the more eerie for its matter-of-fact-descriptions of events and people. I love it a lot and it makes me cry

warning for animal death

everything is alright (yes, i feel just fine) by MoreHeartLessAttack

Jake Peralta has ADHD and hasn’t told anyone, but ends up accidentally telling everyone. This story is very real for anyone who is scared of how people will perceive them once they’re open about their diagnosis. It’s real and raw and I like it a lot

The Eye Color Soulmate AU Fiasco by Pfeldspar

what happens when the two dumbest people in the universe completely miss their universe-assigned meet-cute? This fic, I guess. Cavendish and Dakota somehow miss the fact that they’re soulmates and it’s great. This story is hilarious and funny and I love it so much

[jowritesfanfiction]

Joule

Fandom: Back to the Future

Ships: N/A

Rating: General

Summary: Another dog and Emmett's on the cusp of figuring out time travel. If only he could fund it...

You can read the fic here!

Not much had changed in Emmett’s life over the past decade. Newton had grown up and passed on, Mr. Peabody was still around, and, of course, Emmett continued on with his search to figure out time travel.

He knew about wormholes and black holes, but what he really needed to know was how to generate a black hole and travel in it via his flux capacitor. It would take a lot of energy. But how much energy? And what could power that amount of energy? And how fast would he need to go?

“I heard you got a new dog, Brown.” Mr. Peabody remarked, taking Emmett out of his thoughts. 

The dog, Mr. Peabody was referring to, was Emmett’s newest friend: Joule. 

Emmett had found Joule in a box on the street. She was a tiny puppy then, and was left all alone. Emmett couldn’t allow himself to leave her there on her own, so he took her in and nursed her. He wasn’t too sure what he was doing, but he had been determined to take care of her. 

“I hope you didn’t bring it after what your last dog did.” Mr. Peabody eyed his pine trees. 

“No, I didn’t bring her.” assured Emmett.

“Good.” Mr. Peabody huffed, “Are you almost done? The weatherman said a storm’s coming tomorrow.”

“Well, I’ll have to take this back with me. I don’t have everything I need.” 

“What?! If that storm comes through and there’s lightning, my barn’s going up in flames!”

“I’ll have your lightning rod fixed up first thing tomorrow morning.” promised Emmett. 

“You better be here before I hear thunder.” Mr. Peabody threatened. 

“Don’t you mean before you see lightning?”

“You hear the thunder first. Then the lightning.”

“The rate of speed light travels at is faster than the speed—” suddenly Emmett was hit with a revelation. Emmett grabbed his belongings and the lightning rod. 

“Than the speed of what?” Mr. Peabody called back.

“Goodnight, Mr. Peabody!” Emmett returned, scampering away.

Back at the laboratory, Emmett practically threw himself at his chalkboard. Joule greeted him and sat beside him as she watched the scientist frantically scribble equations and numbers and words.

“This is it, Joule!” Emmett cried. “Lightning! Lightning!”

Joule barked in understanding. 

“Lightning can produce energy in a short amount of time, right?” Emmett panted. “But how much? How much power?”

He ran to one of the several piles of books he had lying around and haphazardly tossed books away. Joule carefully made her way over to Emmett. 

“HA!” Emmett yelled. “Right there!”

He stumbled over to the chalkboard and frantically wrote on the board. Emmett scribbled out math conversions, erasing mistakes, and rewriting. By the time Joule had made her way to Emmett, one number in particular had been circled so many times, it had crossed onto other notes written on the board. 

Out of the mess of notes and math equations, one was easily drawn to the prominently circled 1.21 gigawatts.

“What could possibly produce that much energy that fast?”

Joule barked.

“Well, of course a lightning bolt. But other than that.”

Joule sighed and laid down. Emmett flipped over the chalkboard to a blank side. He began writing down and muttering to himself. “Coal. Steam and water—that’s just hydropower— Biomass…”

Joule yawned and pressed her paw on Emmett’s foot.

“Sorry, I’ll be quiet.” Emmett whispered. “Wind…gas, solar.”

Emmett stepped back and surveyed his list. It was a good start. Now all he had to do was figure out what would be the most efficient and practical way to produce that much power. 

“The pollution of coal is less than ideal.” he muttered to himself, crossing out coal on the list. 

Hill Valley didn’t have that big of a water source for one person to use. Even if it did, how would Emmett convince anyone to let him use it for a personal experiment?

Solar energy was a possibility, but according to Einstein, black holes don’t emit light. Considering a wormhole was just two black holes, it was safe to assume there was no light in those, too. With no light, there was no way to power solar panels. 

Several other fuel sources couldn’t produce enough energy, took up too much room for storage, or were just too expensive.

After a moment or two, Emmett looked back at the chalkboard with a puzzled look on his face. “I must be missing something…”

He re-read the list over and over, hoping it would make him think of the missing source of energy. (It did not.) He walked around the laboratory, muttering to himself.

Joule let out a whine and padded over to Emmett’s bed. 

“Ah, Joule!” Emmett noticed the dog. “I’m sorry! I’ll be quieter!”

Joule barked. 

“Just allow me to finish this.” Emmett insisted. 

Joule sighed.

“Fine.” Emmett resigned, heading to bed. 

Once he got in bed, he realized he had forgotten to fix Mr. Peabody’s lightning rod. 

“Great Scott!” Emmett sprang out of bed.

Joule growled in annoyance. 

“One last thing, I promise!” Emmett vowed, gathering materials together.

Joule begrudgingly went over to Emmett and tugged on his pants.

“I must finish this for Mr. Peabody.” Emmett explained. He technically had the morning to fix it, but Emmett did not want to take any chances with Mr. Peabody’s graces.

In a somewhat drowsy and frantic mindset, Emmett slapped pieces together and attached them to the lightning rod. Joule sat and surveyed Emmett’s work, catching any pieces before they fell on the ground. “That looks sufficient, right?” Emmett turned to his assistant. “All I’ve done is replaced some of the pieces and added an extension to allow the rod to get higher.”

Joule nodded her approval and the two headed back to bed. 

The next morning, Emmett packed up the lightning rod.

“C’mon, Joule.” Emmett called, patting his leg. “I doubt you want to be left alone if this supposed storm hits.”

Emmett took his usual route to the Peabody Farm. It wasn’t too far by car, but after selling his only car several years ago, Emmett took a bit longer to get there. He had to take the bus and then walk some distance to the farm.

“Is that your dog?” the bus driver asked.

“Yes.” Emmett replied. The bus driver shrugged and Emmett took a seat. Joule sat between Emmett’s legs and eyed the other passengers. 

“Can I pet your doggie?” a little girl asked.

“Of course.” Emmett smiled. Joule dutifully sat as the little child petted her.

The rest of the trip ran smoothly and the duo reached the Peabody Farm in time. 

Mr. Peabody grumbled a greeting. “Why’d you bring your dog?”

“Joule isn’t fond of storms.” 

Joule looked up at Mr. Peabody, wagging her tail. 

“So it’s my problem now?” Mr. Peabody demanded. 

Emmett ignored him. “I’ve got your lightning rod finished.”

Mr. Peabody inspected the object in his hands. “This doesn’t look different at all.”

“I just replaced a few parts and added an extension.”

Mr. Peabody grumbled a response, then left for his barn. 

“Do you want any help putting it up?” Emmett hurried after with Joule on his heels.

“I can do it myself.” Mr. Peabody asserted. “You’ll just distract me. If I don’t get this up, that storm’s gonna destroy my farm and I’ll have to sell it.”

“Sell it?” Emmett was stunned. 

For as long as he could remember, the Peabodys had always lived on that farm. Mr. Peabody was too proud of it to allow for the idea of selling the farm to develop any further. Why was he considering selling the farm now?

“The developers have been trying to buy this land off of me.” Mr. Peabody explained, “They wanna make it into some sort of shopping center. Or some nuclear power plant. Either way, I don’t like it.”

“What’d you say?” Emmett lit up.

“I told them I didn’t like it and I’d never sell.” 

“No, about the developers.”

“They wanna make it into a power plant or shopping center.” Mr. Peabody repeated.

“Nuclear! That’s what I forgot!” Emmett jumped. “Good day, Mr. Peabody!”

Confused, Mr. Peabody made an intelligible farewell and watched Emmett and his dog run away. To his delight, Mr. Peabody noticed that the dog hadn’t disturbed his pines. 

“Nuclear energy! That’s efficient! That generates a lot of power!” Emmett rambled with the speed of an auctioneer and the excitement of a hyperactive child. “Gotta be enough to power a car to go fast!” 

Joule barked her praise.

Nuclear fission was the most feasible form of nuclear power. All he needed was a big enough unstable atom to start, then it was just a matter of letting neutrons break down the atom to generate energy. 

“We can either use plutonium or uranium.” Emmett thought aloud, “Plutonium typically generates more energy…”

Emmett paced the laboratory, with Joule right behind him. “If I use uranium, I’ll have to use more to get enough energy. Any thoughts, Joule?”

Joule barked.

“You’re absolutely correct. The radiation from the plutonium is not ideal.” Emmett nodded. “But that’s what radiation suits are for. Anything else?”

Joule stayed silent.

“I believe it’s settled then.” Emmett smiled. 

Now all that was left was to figure out what car he would travel through. It had to be a strong, durable car. And stylish. He’d only have to wait a few years before he would find the perfect car to travel in time. In the meantime, Emmett worked on refining his calculations and working out how much plutonium he would need to generate 1.21 gigawatts. 

There was one other kink Emmett had to work out: how he was going to get enough money to buy equipment for his time machine. All he had currently was his family fortune and the money from Mr. Peabody, but those were only able to cover his living expenses and wouldn’t last long. 

Emmett sifted through his mail. “Declined. Declined. Declined…” he rattled off, sighing as he tossed the pile of rejection in the trash. 

Joule padded over to Emmett and gently bit his shoe. Emmett sighed. Joule whimpered and ran over to her bowl. Emmett slapped his hand to his forehead. He’s forgotten to feed Joule. 

He headed over to the cupboard to look for dog food. When he opened it, all he saw were a few empty cans. Joule sat eagerly awaiting her food. 

How long had it been since she’d eaten? Emmett couldn’t remember. 

Joule barked. 

“I’m looking!” Emmett called, grabbing some meat and ripping it up. “There.”

Joule sniffed the meat. After inspecting it, she licked up the meat bits. 

Emmett hadn’t realized just how much money all this was costing him. Bills needed to be paid, Mr. Peabody needed repairs, Emmett needed money for his time machine, and food was a necessity. 

He would have to cut down on what he was spending. It was all he could do. 

Some weeks, Emmett would have barely any money to feed Joule and him. Other days, he was able to just get enough. After several months, Emmett calculated out his payments regarding how much he had earned towards funding the time machine. 

“That can’t be right…” Emmett scowled, checking his math. 

He groaned. After all his cuts and budgeting, there still hadn’t been enough money left over—at least not enough to make any serious progress in funding the time machine. 

It was time he made some serious decisions. 

He went back to the chalkboard, making a list of all major expenses he had to make every month. There wasn’t anything he could think of that he could cut out. He’d already filtered everything out down to the bare essentials.

Joule poked her nose at Emmett’s leg. 

“I know. I’ve gotta get your food.” Emmett reassured her. That reminded him that they also needed to see the vet soon as Emmett had noticed she was losing fur. That would take a sizable amount out of the time machine fund…

Joule poked his leg again. Emmett looked down at the dog. Joule stared at Emmett, then looked at the chalkboard, then back at Emmett. He glanced at Joule, then back at the board. Joule again. Then the chalkboard. 

He noticed a prominence of Joule-based expenses, but he didn’t want to admit it. It wasn’t that much. 

“It’ll get better.” Emmett hoped. 

Emmett tried all he could to make the situation better. He mainly worked on developing prototypes and models of the time machine in the hopes that it would help.

“If I’ve calculated this correctly, once this model hits the correct speed—which should be 60 or so miles an hour in an actual car—it will be at the opportune moment to open a wormhole and enter through in a little over a tenth of a second.” 

Joule looked over at Emmett’s demonstration from the couch, her head lazily resting on a cushion. Emmett wound up his model car and set it on the table. 

“You tell me when to release it.” Emmett said, setting down the model car.

At Joule’s long sigh, Emmett released the car. As the little car made its way, Emmett set off a contraption to demonstrate what the car opening and traveling through the wormhole would look like. 

Of course in real life, the car would go much faster and have a shorter time frame to enter through the wormhole, but for the purposes of the model, Emmett had scaled everything in proportion to the model car. 

The car hit the speed to “create” the wormhole, but didn’t travel through it in time.

“Damn.” Emmett cursed. 

As the months progressed, Emmett’s situation wasn’t getting any better. Joule suffered the most from it. She regularly got tired and didn’t have much of the same energy she used to. She stuck to her bed or the couch and didn’t move at all. When she did move, she moved like her little paws were filled with weights. 

Every time Emmett watched her walk, he felt worse. How could he just let Joule live like this? He had sat so long in his denial that he hadn’t noticed he was hurting her. 

“C’mon, Joule.” Emmett called, patting his leg. “Let’s go drop some things off to Mr. Peabody.”

Emmett packed two bags for the trip. Emmett carried his bags on one shoulder and Joule on the other. He held her in his lap through the whole bus ride.

“Does your dog bite?” a boy asked.

“Not at all.”

“Can I pet it?”

Emmett hesitated. “She’s extremely tired.”

“I’ll be gentle.” 

Emmett conceded. That wouldn’t bother Joule that much, would it? Besides, she was taking another one of her naps for the day. She would be alright. 

“What’s all that stuff in your bag?” the boy asked.

“It’s for my job.”

“My dad has a job, but he doesn’t need two bags. Why do you need two bags?”

“Uh…”

“Are you an evil scientist? Are you gonna experiment on that dog?”

Emmett gave the kid a confused look. “I would never experiment on Joule.”

“So you are an evil scientist!”

Emmett sighed. Emmett just let the kid ramble until it was time for Emmett to get off the bus.

“H’lo, Brown. H’lo, dog.” Mr. Peabody greeted them. 

“I’ve got some parts for your plow.” Emmett handed him the parts. 

“Thanks.” Mr. Peabody returned. “That’s all I asked for, right?”

“Yes, but…” Emmett swallowed. “I was wondering if you’d take Joule.”

“Your dog?”

“Yes. You see…Well…” Emmett fumbled. “Maybe she could help you on the farm?”

Mr. Peabody cocked his head to the side and analyzed Emmett’s face.

“Unless you didn’t need help, of course—” 

“What’s this about, Brown? Is there something wrong with your dog?”

“No!” Emmett waved his hands. “It’s just that she can’t stay with me any longer.”

“You can’t take care of her or something?” 

“Right,” he lamented.

Mr. Peabody sighed.

“She’s a good dog. She works hard and she’s never gotten into any trouble as long as I’ve had her.” Emmett pleaded.

“How long have you had her?” 

Emmett looked down at his friend. “Since she was a baby.”

Mr. Peabody contemplated for a moment, looked at Joule a couple of times, and squinted at Emmett. He scratched his beard a bit and stared out at the farm. 

“I suppose I could use some help. And my grandkids would love it when they visit.” Mr. Peabody decided, heading inside. When he returned, he handed Emmett a wad of cash.

“Please take good care of Joule.” Emmett sniffled, tucking the money away quickly.

“I will.” Mr. Peabody nodded. “C’mon, Joule.” 

Joule looked back at her friend. 

“Go, Joule.” Emmett breathed, weakly pointing at Mr. Peabody. “It’s okay.” 

The walk home was the longest one Emmett had ever taken.

[minasummersch]

papyrus & jasmine (but I kinda wanna change the latter part of the Q to "and would recommend to anyone" if that's alright!)

papyrus ⇢ if you put your ‘on repeat’ playlist on shuffle, what’s the first song that comes up? what do you like about it / associate it with?

I've talked about this when I last answered this question here, but I don't have an 'on repeat' playlist. I'll link a song from my 'liked videos' playlist on youtube for you instead!

I am not sure I could even begin to explain this video tbh. I really like Gilmore Girls and something about the combination of Rory with Taylor Swift songs is fucking immaculate.

And here I'll also link a song I've had on repeat over the last week for you!

This is the first full song Nino sings in the Anonymous Noise anime/manga. Something about how messy it sounds really stuck with me and I am just living for these vibes. I know rock music totally plays against the aesthetic I have going but I want so badly to one day sing this song.

jasmine ⇢ do you have a movie or book you loved but will never watch/read again? and would recommend to anyone?

Oh boy! I have a long, long list of books, movies, tv shows, anime, manga, and light novels that I toss around as recommendations to friends. I usually like to tailor my reccs based on what I know people like but since I'm not entirely sure about your tastes I'll give a few of the ones I know most poeple enjoy.

Oscar (1991): a movie with Sylvester Stalone and it's a comedy so you really can't go wrong with this

Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun: either the manga or anime, both are amazing imo and the comedy is unparalleled

Summertime Rendering: honestly the best mystery manga I've ever read and it got a boppin anime adaptation just this year, go in with as few spoilers as possible

Pandora Hearts: please read this manga, if not for the plot then just for the art because Mochizuki Jun improves so much over the course of this series and it's absolutely stunning

86 eighty-six: watch the anime and if you're feeling it read the light novel or just wait it out for a second season because this will definitely get one

2.43 Seiin Koukou Danshi Volleyball: okay so I know this is the less popular volleyball anime but I like this one more

IDOLiSH7: i love these idol boys and this is the best idol game turned anime adaptation out there I think

IDOLY PRIDE: the other really awesome idol anime, I love this more than words can say and it's just a good time all around

Ao no Exorcist: read the manga and just avoid the anime please, the manga is much better

Fruits Basket: I watched the 2019 series and I didn't know what I was getting into at all but damn it was worth it, this anime is perfect

Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru: I clearly like a lot of sports anime lol, but nah this one is good and has like warm and fuzzy friendship vibes but an older cast so it's a bit more serious

Kono Oto Tomare: music anime about a traditional Japanese instrument with great friendship and romance, I loved this so much that I bought the CD and I will one day play it for my wedding

Ya Boy Kongming: it's got great music and is hilarious, you could not ask for more imo

The Raven Boys: this was a fun time to read, like it had friendship and romance and all that teenage angst but also treasure hunting and supernatural powers

Percy Jackson: someone has probably already recced this tbh

All Our Yesterdays: the only valid time travel novel imo

Here Lies Daniel Tate: there's murder, there's mystery, what more could you want lol

The Devil is A Part-timer: watch season 1 of the anime and if you want to continue past that hit me up because things get messy and your enjoyment will depend on which character was your fave

The Last Fallen Star: a korean mythology middle grade novel

Into The Spiderverse: do I need to say more lol

The Good Place: again a comedy tv show, I do love comedy

Gilmore Girls: this is honestly a fascinating study in character development and writing

Ms Marvel: as a pakistani muslim this tv show was a mood in many ways

And there you have it! A very extensive list of media for you to check out! If you want to talk more about any of these and/or want more reccs join my discord server and feel free to scream in there! I am always ready to talk about fandoms and series I love but there's not enough people around lol

Thank you for the question! Feel free to check out my other answers under the tag mina answers! on my blog!

[or-something-better]

Sam’s Story Corner

July 26, 2022  First posting

🚨✏️🔮✏️🚨✏️🔮✏️🚨✏️🔮✏️🔮✏️🚨

Sam

Okay Guys, let’s kick this place off with a Simple Writing Assignment… the 1st topic is “I Went To The Store” Very straightforward, something that everyone here has actually done multiple times.

Please write a short story about your Character’s trip to the store. You can write it anyway you want, just please be sure to share something about your character with us that we might not know.

Easy Peasy. I’ll be back to post my own. I’m so excited to read what you guys all come up with!

……………………………

Ruby

SHOPPING, NEW ORLEANS STYLE

Looking through the spell once more, I went to my cupboard to find the lichen needed but came up empty. Damn! I forgot I’d used it all. Well, times have been hectic and dangerous lately I told myself to excuse my screw up.

Thinking of the surrounding witch shops in Kansas, I know I won’t find any there. Well, there was nothing left to do but hit New Orleans.

Popping over to the French Quarter, I knew the ingredient I was after would not be found in any of the tourist shops in the Witch Corridor. I headed to the back alleys.

The sights and sounds remained relatively the same. Even the smells brought back memories. Time may march on, but some things never change.

Finding the unassuming door I was looking for, I knock once, pause, then twice more. As I wait, I glance around. No one pays me any attention. The door opens, revealing a young woman. Looks are definitely deceiving. She’s over two hundred years old. She’s surprised to see me.

“Ruby!” she cries coming out and hugging me. I give her a great big hug back. “Esmerelda! It’s so good to see you! How long has it been?”

“Too long. Come in, come in!”

Following her inside the shop, I can feel the years fall away. We took several minutes catching up then she got down to business.

“So what brings you here?”

Giving her my short list, she goes over it and starts walking around the shop collecting them in a basket. While she’s doing that, I also walk around the shop, seeing if there might be something else I might need since I don’t get to the French Quarter very often. Picking up a bone and looking it over, I ask “Is this the last mole skull you have?”

Esmerelda is squatting down, pulling out a drawer and looking through it. “Yes, for now. I have more on order.”  Holding on to the skull, I keep looking, finding more thing than those on my list. I take my time going through the potions and add a couple to my already full arms.

Forcing myself to stop, I take everything to the counter and set it all down in a pile. Esmerelda is there, ringing everything up and putting it in a bag.

“You have the best stuff Esme!”

She smiles and takes my money. “Come back more often” she tells me.

“You can count on it. I seem to be using more ingredients lately. And I trust yours.”

Giving her one last hug, I pop back to the apartment and begin putting everything away.

………………………………….

Sam

I had been prowling around inside the Bunker for the last few days, foul tempered and waiting for the other shoe to drop. After the stunt I’d pulled with those demons at the Gas ‘n’ Sip a few nights ago, I’d fully expected to have my brother, or Charlie, or hell even Cass take me to task over it. But nadda… nothing… no one had accosted me or had spoken a word about it since.

There was just no way I was going to get away scot-free after something like that, no matter that it turned out all good for everyone in the end; but no way was I going to seek anyone out and apologize either. Nope. I’d just keep movin’ on, head down and nose clean. Given the time to rethink my actions of the other night, I knew that I’d do the exact same thing over again. Maybe that was why no one had shown up to haul my ass over the fire. I just told myself it didn’t matter and when Alex had asked for someone to do a quick supply run for more diapers, I’d jumped at the chance for a reason to get out of the Bunker.

As I pulled my Charger into the CVS parking lot, its headlights flashed over the solitary form of Castiel standing in the shadows next to the building. With an audible groan, I rolled my eyes and shoved the car into park, turning off the key. “Damn it!” So much for no one talking to me, I thought. With a loud exhale, I opened the door and stepped out.

“Hey Cass, what’s up?”

The angel gave a nonchalant shrug and moved closer, but didn’t say a word, not one word. He only looked at me with his usual intense, almost blank, expression. Guilt immediately rushed like a wave over me. I’d known it would happen, I’d just been lying to myself, telling myself that everything was alright. Throwing my hands up in the air, I all but shouted at him.

“Fine! Say it! I'm a SHIT! I know it!”

Taking several deep breaths before clenching my teeth and willing myself to calm down, I stumbled back and caught myself on the car. Leaning back against it, I just hung my head.

“Look Cass, I don't know what to do here anymore, alright? How can everybody just expect me to stand by and do nothing when I can help? Do you all really expect me to not step up when it’s needed?”

When Cass continued to remain silent, I quickly did the math and realized there was no way this conversation was going to end well… right here, right now. Forcing myself to stand up straighter, I brushed past the silent angel and headed toward the store’s entrance, calling back.

“Gotta get diapers... Later.”

……………………………….

Charlie

Back long before I met the boys, I had seen the supernatural and never known it. My mother was a hunter. A woman of letters in fact, but she had always hidden it from me. Or so I thought. It was 1993, we had gone to the mall. It was time for back to school and I needed some new clothes. Mom was always really good about letting me express myself through my outfits, and she always encouraged me to be my self. I was browsing through the racks when she said she had to step away for a minute. I was a really curious child so naturally I followed….but at a distance. She met up with a man in a suit, she didn’t look very happy to see him. He kept calling himself the king of the crossroads….. my mother was asking him to leave her family alone. That we had nothing to do with the hunting. He warned her that if she didn’t call off her men, he would make her pay. I’m not sure if he knows I remember…. After the accident…. The one that took my parents…. I didn’t have any memories…. I have to wonder now if they didn’t do that on purpose…. All these years later I remember the meeting, and the warning…. And the demon responsible for it all…. But now we called him family…. Can demons change?? I mean, Ruby had proven herself many times over…. I could only hope the relationship I had with Crowley would be enough for me to finally find out what happened that fateful night…. Now to get the courage to tell him.

…………………………

Patience

I've been hold up at Jody's for days, just wondering what I was going to do for the rest of the week.  Wondering how my dad's doing he hasn't spoken to me since I left suddenly my phone rings it's Jody asking me if I could do some grocery shopping since she's going to be tied up at work of course I said yes.      I grab my purse and car keys as I'm heading for my I'm stopped in my tracks by a vision   OMG I said out loud and the first one since the creatures from the bad place came. I'm walking into the store but not today this is weird I say out loud thinking as if I'm actually talking to someone else ok get it together it's just a vision I'm getting in the car driving to the store. I get there I am sitting in the car the vision starts again. I see myself walking through the.   Don't see anyone I know which is weird because I already know everyone that works here ok I say let's get this over with and just go in. walking through the store door I do see someone I know. Daddy I  yell running to give him a hug.

………………………

Henry

Back when  my brother was still alive we would go school shopping with our sister . We called her that but she actually was part of the family that adopted us. She was pretty nice but I don’t talk to her anymore due to me leaving. We would go to the mall in Portland to get our clothes and hangout with our friends. I remember my brother had to stop me from buying lots of sweets and actually to buy clothes. Afterwards we would go to the Powell's bookstore the biggest bookstore I have seen. I would get lost in it and they would find me tuck away reading in a little hiding hole. Our sister was only a year older than my brother with blonde hair and a bit alethic. She was the star on the track team throughout her high school years. I now I believe she’s a doctor.

………………………..

Young Crowley at the Market

At seven years old Fergus was a fairly carefree child, when he was left on his own. His mother Rowena was never the most affectionate, but she was also never very present either. Early one June morning young Fergus was weeding his mothers herb garden, she’d been gone for almost a fortnight and by helping with upkeep he was hoping that she’d be pleased enough to perhaps tell him he’d done a good job, maybe even hug him. Many other children in the village received hugs from their parents and it seemed like a pleasant experience. It seemed much more inviting than the slaps and flailing his mother seemed more inclined to.

“Fergus!” The young boy’s head whips up and fear flickers through his dark brown eyes before standing, dusting his hands off on the patched trousers and running towards his mothers voice “Mama you’re home” he cries feigning excitement as he halts by her side taking her packages. “I will need you for my potion before we go to market.” Fergus nods before scampering inside and quickly putting things away as he listens to her in the pantry. “Boy what is this?” she demands stepping out holding a piece of parchment with his slanted writing “This is a pathetic attempt you stupid boy. You’re always so useless!” Fergus takes a step back and hangs his head “Yes mother. I’m sorry.”

Rowena throws the parchment into the fire and drags Fergus into the pantry where she had a spell brewing “Arm boy. At least you’re good for something.” Swallowing hard, he rolls up his threadbare sleeve which was littered with scars both old and new. With a bruising grip, his mothers hand wraps around his wrist and jerks it over the cauldron, slashing a golden blade down his wrist and squeezing his arm so blood oozes into the bubbling potion.

As the potion simmers in their house, Rowena drags Fergus into town as he hastily attempts to bandage his still bleeding arm. The manic redhead rants and raves about how expensive her potions ingredients have become and scorns him for most likely ruining the herbs she was growing behind their shack of a house. Despite being such a talented witch, she was gone for weeks or months at a time so her son was left in squalor attempting to maintain the rundown homestead. Approaching a farmer he falls on his face as mother shoves him forward, Crawling out of the dirt he listens as his mother attempts to barter with the man only to feel his stomach sink when he reaches her side and hears “Come now, surly you can afford three of your wee piggies for the little bastard.”

Fergus moves to his mothers side looking betrayed “Mama you……you wouldn’t?” Rowena looks down at him and sneers before turning back to the Farmer “Three it is. Do what you want with it” The young MacLeod boy screams for his mother and tries to run after her only for the farmer to grab his arm right where he’d been sliced earlier and falls to his knees in pain. He sobs begging his mother to come back, asking why she doesn’t love him. The farmer kicks him “Stop yer crying or I’ll give you something to cry about.” Fergus hiccups and tries to stop while being dragged away. As he stumbles and falls, the farmer turns to attack him again only for the man to fall dead. Fergus stands and walks back seeing a different man standing with a bloody knife. “Who are you?” he asks in shock and fear. “I’m your father, now hurry home boy.”

As the man, his father, walks away and just for a second Fergus swears the man had yellow eyes.

………………….

Crowley

I sat in my throne listening to yet another nobody demon go on pissing about nothing when someone I actually care about enters. I stand and fling the demon across the room before kneeling and scratching Juliet behind the ear. “Hey sweetie, daddy’s here. What do you need, my good girl?” She barks and licks my cheek. Chuckling, I stand and pet her before vanishing to the nearest PetSmart.

Grabbing a cart I trek through the aisle looking for my girl's favorite food brand, though still planning on stopping at the butchers to spoil her with some fresh steaks. I hesitate in front of the toys, picking up some of the rawhides  and chew-toys, shaking my head muttering about how she doesn’t need more toys while promptly filling the cart. “Spoiled bitch.” I mutter affectionately before continuing to push the cart ahead. I pause seeing a stuffed animal ahead and pick up the black dog thinking about the kid and add it to the cart heading to checkout.

As I take the bags back to hell I whistle for Juliet who bounds forward happily biting into her food bag as I look at the plush and sigh. Why would the kid want something from a demon Screw that, why would the kid want something from HIM? He was probably the most unlovable person that kid knew and it sounded like he’d met god. Sinking to the ground I conjure a bottle of scotch and chug it before chucking the stuffed animal into his fireplace and coaxing Juliet over with a bone “There’s my girl. You….you need me. That’s why you stay and I know that but……Do you love me?” I hug her neck sighing as she lets out a soft woof that I just hope is a yes.

……………………….

Donna

It’s was a week before Our big day in May 2000. The girls and I had scheduled the last fitting of my gown and shopping first their gowns. Everyone was in the wedding so all the ladies and I made our way to the dress shop. Alex was truly excited, and we chatted the whole way to the shop and as we walked in the store! Jody asked about details of the wedding as we walk.

Shopping through the racks with the ladies getting soft flowing dresses for our country circle of love from heaven wedding. Each lady found a perfect dress soon. Very soon, it was time for my final fitting, getting dressed it was odd how quiet the store got…. I step out of the room and step up to the mirror. Alex gasps, saying how perfect it is and Jody fixes the back of the train and finishes lacing up the back! “Is it just me, or did they place get really quiet?” I ask looking back a Jody.

But before Jody can respond, the answer comes from the closed front door. “It’s not you!” the leader of the vampire nest stands there flanked by many of her nest.  

Other vampires come from the back rooms, teeth bared. Instantly Jo attacks cracking a chair over one’s head. And Jody round house kicks the the nearest one to her! I break the nose of nearby vamp, doing my best not to damage my wedding dress. Alex dives into a changing room and called the boys. Us ladies do our best hold out the boys, but none of us had a blade big enough to behead a vamp or dead man’s blood!

I pray to my love from a chocking gasp from the huge vamp! And in a flash he appears, killing the vamp holding me, and helping us ladies. His eyes closed knowing I was around, i kiss him and rub to get changed really fast! The boys soon arrive, and help us kill the rest of the nest. No need to pay for the dresses we head back to the bunker, thankful the full team works so well together.

………………..

Gabe

Heaven. What can you say about heaven? It’s paradise, it’s home, it’s perfection, in a word, Heaven, but when it’s all you’ve ever known, for we angels, archangels and even dad, it became stagnant.

The arguing, the factions, the orders, the holy wars. I mean same thing day after day after day, it can get old. Believe it or not like any child, I wanted to leave home, branch out, be my own being.

When dad created humans the uproar was, magnificent! The hatred the love the, you guessed it, war, based on these small little creatures was immense!  Like any good son I stayed out of it. I love my family but it made Jerry springer look like the Brady bunch.

I have to admit that I was curious what all the fuss was about. I’d seen it all, or so I thought. The creation of light, the earth, mountains rising from the sea. The garden, the animals, it was majestic, I really thought at the time that dad had it all figured out .

Side note about the garden. TOTAL SNOOZE FEST. Really no different then heaven, and for humans it was, but between you and I, the best thing that could have ever happened for humans was Eve eating the apple. Up until then it was like dad created wooless sheep on two legs. When kicked from the garden, that’s when the fun began, but that’s a story for another time.

For centuries I walked the earth, and fell in love with the human race. Well the majority of it. Those who thought themselves better than others or hurt others, I was forced to step in. Protecting the weak and the down trodden is what I do, we’ll that and I happen to be dads messages boy. You know Moses, Mary, etc. Again stories for another time.

As I traveled the earth I watched as these humans created from nothing , created homes, tribes, clothing, farming, fishing, language, and trade, among so many mind blowing other things.

Watching trade develops was extraordinary. In heaven we had everything we could ever need. Everything was a thought, a word, a snap of our fingers away. Here, the humans couldn’t do that. I watched it develop between tribes around 9000 BC. Excess for excess need for need humans helping each other in ways that seemed improbable. When dad turned his back on his creation the thought was it would over time fade away, die off. I didn’t want fat and I helped where I could but instead of turning tail and fading away the humans, some even unaware of each others existence (the world was much bigger then than it is today, continents divided the humans by this time )  banded together and THRIVED. Growing, learning, adapting a sight like you couldn’t even imagine!

Along the way trade became more advanced and eventually, a bigger evil than Lucifer himself emerged: MONEY.

Using it these civilizations hit some of their biggest down falls. Instead of helping each other they delegated each other in to classes. Forgetting what was important and what was not. Money ruled them with people willing to kill each other over a few shekels. Tiny amounts, grams, 11 to be exact, of  so-called “precious“ metals.  These trinkets were so important to some that they put it above human life even then.

It was evident in Mesopotamia in 3,000 BC.

I was walking through the city speaking with a group of dads followers when I noticed a building that I’d never seen before. Asking around I heard it was called a store and “sold” goods to those who both needed and could afford them. Anything from pottery and linens to grains, breads and fruits.

The division of classes was never more obvious. Those with the most shekels would where the finest linens and gorge themselves on meats, fruits and wines, while those with little to no shekels wore thread bear clothing boards ring on tattered loin cloths and scrambled for waste from the rich.

As I watched the creation of commerce I was both amazed and disgusted. I remember standing in the store looking at all the incredible goods from far and wide, and seeing a small girl, maybe around six years old trying to sneak in to the store and as the shop keeper tended to others the small girl hurriedly trying to shove tiny handfuls of grain and rice into her pockets. I’ll never forget the overwhelming sadness I felt. The hope and the soulful look in her eyes, or the terror when the shop keeper caught her.

Grabbing her arm he screamed words that shall never be appropriate to be used on children. Telling her he was going to dole out the punishment for thieves. As he did the other patrons horrified but to afraid to step in, ran from the store. I watched disgusted and as I turned back I saw the shop keeper, a tall muscular bearded man with long braided hair and todo many tattoos it would make a biker blush, draw his sword. The child crying, terrified explaining that her family was starving but the shop keeper didn’t care. As he brought his sword downward I stepped in grabbing his arm. I don’t know who was more astonished, the shop keeper or the child. I can tell you it was me when he turned and shoved me to the ground. Shocked that the shop keeper had dared lay his hands on an archangel, I held my cool as the little girl scrambled and ran the shop keeper going after her. I quickly jumped to me feet and grabbed him tossing him against the back wall of his shop, the wares clattering to the floor.

Remember these were hard working people, and violence a part of their everyday lives. Letting the shop keeper go he brought his sword around and I can still remember the feel of the cold steel piercing my chest, and the shock in his eyes when I neither cried out or fell to the ground.

Taking the sword from my chest I tossed it away a wry smile on my face and I could feel the fire burning in my eyes, I could feel them burning and the prayers to my father from the man’s lips. Snapping I closed the flaps on his store and we’ll I won’t get into the gory details, the screams and the glow coming from the tent could be heard and seen for miles around.

Did I want to end him? It’s not my proudest moment to say the least, but I did. Did I do it? No. When we emerged from his store he was a changed man. Instead of attacking the poor he defended them, defended the farmers, helped those in need. Singing the praises of heaven and in helping one another.

Leaving Mesopotamia that night, I checked on the girl and her family leaving them droves of shekels with one simple lessons, to give to others as they received and to help the needy, to never forget where they came from and to always be a helping hand.

From that day forward I knew that from I would forever be a bastion of light for the down trodden. I was more than an archangel, more than a messenger of god, more than a celestial being, I was first and foremost a protector of the innocent.

…………………

[bistevethor]

Steve Rogers Fanfiction Recommendations

Happy birthday, Steve!

I know that there are some (a lot?) of steve fans who sometimes struggle to find fics focused on him, so I am here now putting a list of Steve fics. I was going to fics that I haven't seen recommended a lot and most of the ones on this post have less than 200 kudos only, but I end up putting everything (it's probably easier to put my bookmarks as public but well...). It's a massive list (over 100 fics?), so it's will be separated into several posts/reblogs.

Not all of them are from Steve's POV or even have him as the main 'main' character, but rest assured he played an important role and is featured heavily. Lots of these are friendship-focused but I categorized them. The shippy ones are mostly samsteve, thundershield, and some rare pairings because I don't venture to other ships a lot and when I did it's to the rare ones instead lol. Hopefully, any of you can find some gems from this list and these are as enjoyable or as good as I remembered. I'll continue to update it, hopefully, every time I find new ones.

Fics are under read more.

General

The Rocket's Red Glare

Steve was born on the Fourth of July (no joke), so a party is in order! Unfortunately, PTSD decides to rear its ugly head. Fortunately, Steve's got an entire team at his back to help him through it. And screaming goats.

an entry in the scrapbook of absurdity

In which Steve turns into a baby and bites people.

Baby Steve Adventures

Captain America gets hit by a spell during a battle. The rest of the Avengers look after him.

Do You Remember Being Happy? ('Cause I Sure Don't)

"Dragr," Thor called them. "Demons" Clint had said. "Thieves" is what Steve labels them as. AKA, the one where Steve is captured by creatures that feed off of happy memories, and the team is left to pick up the pieces. Post-Avengers.

In Search of (Bucky, Family, Home)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson

A week following the events of CATWS, Steve recruits Natasha and Sam to help find Bucky.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Do we need to recap again? You were shot three times, beaten near to death by an enhanced super soldier with a metal arm and then almost drowned. Yeah, your ass is going to need a few more days of healing time.”

The Truth When Captains Meet

Steve Rogers wakes up on an alien’s space ship being carried bridal style by Carol Danvers. As far as first meetings go, it’s memorable.

Irish Coffee

Pairings: Jessica Jones & Steve Rogers

Jessica runs into an incognito Cap at a cafe. They form an unlikely friendship of sorts.

The Lifetimes of Steve Rogers (Series)

What happens when Steve Rogers steps onto the quantum platform to return the Stones? Where does he go? What challenges does he find? Who does he meet? How many lifetimes can one man have?

Fifty-Two Pickup

Less than a week after the fall of the Triskelion, Steve Rogers is released from the hospital. Although his physical wounds are almost fully healed, other injuries need a bit more time, and some help from friends.

little kids get big so fast

Steve ends up having to take care of the deaged Defenders.

Grampa Steve's Bedtime Stories

If Mommy was away for work, then Morgan’s Grampa Steve came over to stay with her. He’d tuck her in, let her give Mommy a kiss on video chat, then hand her the picture of Daddy for his kiss. Once Daddy’s picture was back on the bookshelf, Grampa Steve would turn off the bedside lamp so that Miss Friday could cover the ceiling with stars, and ask Morgan what story she wanted to hear.

“Captain Steve, Grampa! Tell me Captain Steve!”

Grampa Steve sometimes read to her from books and other times watched a movie with her, but her favorite by far was when he told her Captain Steve’s Adventures Through the Multiverse.

On Camping Trips

Sam is more Hermione than Natasha is, and Steve doesn't want to be Harry.

Powerful

Steve loses the advantages of the super-soldier serum. This is not a tragedy.

His Dream

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

As if on cue, Steve cut him off with a loud sneeze.

"Yeah. Like that." Sam nodded. "And please sneeze into your elbow next time, dude. You could've just started an epidemic."

"Sorry. Allergies." Steve excused, and Sam raised an eyebrow.

"How do you know it's allergies?" Sam asked, and Steve sighed, putting the ingredients together and solving the mystery of what the gas had actually done.

The answer wasn't ideal. "It feels like the seasonal allergies I had before. Before the serum- and I haven't had them since the serum."

Realization clicked in Sam's head.

"The gas de-serumed you."

Steve swallowed and nodded reluctantly.

OR: Steve gets temporarily de-serumed, with his height and stature staying the same but his immune system being as bad as it was before, and has to stay in the hospital to prevent a severe allergic reaction or illness. Sam stays with him the whole time, making sure he's not alone.

A Strange Encounter

Things have gone awry and Strange is injured. With no other options, he's called for assistance from Captain America and his team.

even if we're apart, i'll always be with you

Steve finds a dirty toy bear at an abandoned gas station, on the way back from a school trip. He brings him home.

As Long as You’re Not Tired Yet of Talking

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

When Steve Rogers tells her, “Don’t be a stranger,” as they’re all going their own ways after New York, it makes her want to laugh.

Draw/Breath

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Natasha like knowing what makes people tick. She likes knowing things, about her teammates and her coworkers and herself. Oddly enough, sometimes other people like knowing her too.

AKA: Natasha wants to know why Steve isn’t drawing anymore, and takes the long way round to get her answer. Because why not.

With Magic We Do Fly

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers

In Civil War we see Wanda fling Steve into the air with her magic. They must have practiced that, right?

Que Wanda throwing Steve against a wall. Many times.

Just Like We Practiced

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers

Steve had said, in the movie when he asked Wanda to lift him into the building, "Just like we practiced." But just how did they come up with the idea of her lifting people with her powers, and putting them up somewhere like an escalator? Perhaps it was because Wanda accidentally sent a certain tall, blond Avenger face-first into the floor once and he decided he would help her learn to utilize this as a confidence building exercise. Natasha keeps an eye, Thor and Sam help build the training grounds, and Wanda has found her new home. Takes place between AGE OF ULTRON and CIVIL WAR.

Black and White but Red and Blue

They're watching black and white film reels, but Steve sees them in colour.

"My shield may be black and white but it was red and blue. Just like the blue sky under which red blood was spilled. Like Bucky's blue eyes and Peggy's red lips..."

The Road Warriors

Characters: Sam Wilson (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff

It wasn't pretty, but somehow the four of them managed to make it through two years on the run.

We'll Fix It

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Steve has a hard time after his battle with The Winter Soldier and isn't sure what to do with himself. After not seeing him for a week, Natasha finally shows up to his apartment unannounced to figure out how they can get back to work. There is some crying involved.

From Here On Out

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

The Accords, the search for Bucky, the fight at the airport ... In a world where nothing will ever be the same, sometimes the road to rebuilding trust and friendship is a little rockier than it should be.

AKA, the story of Steve & Natasha and how they got to where they are.

Set post-Civil War but pre-Infinity War.

I have this breath and I hold it tight

Parings: Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Vision

Steve finally goes to Wanda’s tiny room and taps on the doorframe, although it’s hardly necessary, with the slightly warped floorboards creaking under his feet. “Hey,” he says. “Got a minute?”

Wanda's been a little withdrawn since Steve broke everyone out of the Raft. She's had a lot to think about.

to you.

Pairings: Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff & Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff & Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff & Tony Stark

It's Wanda's birthday today. She's not sure how to feel.

New Love

Pairings: Diana (Wonder Woman) & Steve Rogers

Near the end of World War II, Diana Prince finds herself attempting to reconnect to her long-gone, beloved Steve Trevor. However, she comes across Steve Rogers instead.

Sharing Life (And Canned Green Beans)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

It’s Thanksgiving, and Steve is hiding in the second living room on the 8th floor of the penthouse apartments with a can of green beans.

I'm Fine

Steve slowly began to realize that the problem with being a national icon, a hero, and a role model, is that somehow, he became more than human. He become a symbol, not a person. So when he becomes increasingly unhappy, deeply depressed, and utterly adrift in a world where he doesn't belong, the loneliness and isolation are unbearable. How could anyone believe that an iconic hero like himself was really just an ordinary kid from Brooklyn, dying inside because everything he'd gained still wasn't enough to replace everything he'd lost? How could he possibly bring himself to bleed on the ones he loves? So he tells himself the same lie over and over, hoping one day, he'll believe it.

dogpile

"My dog ate my mission report" An injured Steve remembers something he has to do. Unabashed Steve and dogs fluff. "Didn't peg you for a pet guy." "Allergies."

Alone In This World (Together)

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Sam Wilson

“We’re fugitives,” Steve said finally. “It might never get better.”

“The world’s always going to need saving," Sam replied. "We’re still Avengers. No one can take that away from us.” Then, like they hadn't been having an entire conversation before, “So when do we leave?”

“Once night falls.”

Do we have any idea where she is?”

“No.” Steve took a sip of his coffee. “But I know where she’ll be.”

it gets the worst at night

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov

Here's how it goes: Natasha sometimes shares a bed with Steve. It's not what it sounds like.

(In which there are Colombian drug lords, awkward boners, cuddly super-soldiers and the Avengers are all giant dorks.)

Shelter

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

Sam and Steve, right after the fall of SHIELD.

Princely Bickering

Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Jane Foster, Steve Rogers & Thor

Steve allows Sam to lean up and inspect his head for bruises and blood. He then checks out Steve’s eyes. ‘Do you know where you are?’ Steve rolls his eyes. ‘Don’t be an ass, Cap, apparently you can break.’ ‘London, England, chasing apparently useless Hydra intel despite having about five hundred international arrest warrants out for us because we’re just that stupid,’ says Steve. Sam pats him - gently - on the shoulder. Life on the run isn't easy, especially not after an injury. Fortunately Steve still has a few allies left.

And The Seconds Tick Down

AU of Civil War. How the world ended in twenty steps when Steve died.

"Grant" and "Francis" Go Shopping

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

Steve and Clint both have holiday shopping to do for their family of choice, so they make a day trip to an outlet mall, have a few heart to hearts, use some coupons, buy a bunch of presents, and eventually get through their shopping lists.

A Tune Without Words

Pairings: Jane Foster/Thor, Steve Rogers & Thor, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

As he and Sam prepare to begin searching for Bucky, Steve gets various offers of help—some more unexpected than others.

Purpose

Tony Stark wins the fight in Siberia completely by accident.

Steve Rogers does not resist his arrest as he is taken to the Raft.

Sam Wilson, T'Challa, and Pepper Potts pick up the pieces.

Full of Wounds and Still Standing on my Feet

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff

The five times Steve looked out for Wanda, and one time Wanda decided someone needed to look out for Steve.

Three Awakenings

The first three times that Steve Rogers woke up during his first twenty-four hours in the twenty-first century.

Making Your Own Future

Characters: Steve Rogers, Diana Prince, Steve Trevor Five times -- plus one -- that Diana Prince and Steve Rogers encountered one another.

Better Living Through Pizza

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

Steve takes some time off from soldiering and Avengering to get his head on straight, and Clint is assigned to keep an eye on him, because apparently SHIELD believes in the blind leading the blind. Steve really needs a hobby, since modern television shows baffle him, but Clint keeps bringing him DVDs and pizza.

Five Times Clint Barton Spoke with Steve Rogers about Growing Old and the One Time He Didn't.

Pairings: Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

When Steve Rogers reappeared from the past as an old man, there was a lot of catching up to do. Clint Barton made sure nobody got left behind.

Hammer's Totally Heavy-Handed and Incompetent Revenge

"So, at the end of IM2, Justin Hammer swears revenge on Pepper. He waits until Tony and Rhodey are halfway across the world to launch his attack.

Unfortunately for him, thanks to SHIELD, Iron Man and War Machine aren't the only superheroes in Pepper's rolladex. Steve thinks Pepper's just swell and doesn't take too kindly to somebody trying to hurt her."

Cue badass!Steve and competent!Pepper

Fan Mail

Steve starts getting his fan mail and receives an invitation to the prom. Written for a prompt at the Avengers kink meme. It was a great prompt, and so much fun to write and get feedback for!

Prom. Steve 'Grandpa Iceberg' Rogers at a 21st-century high school prom. "This isn't happening. This whole conversation is just an elaborate practical joke. Bruce really just has orders for widgets or something."

Bruce waved the printouts at him. "Fraid not. I don't really do practical jokes. Messing with other people's moods just seems. I don't know. Karmically unwise."

Mascot

Steve runs. People see Steve run. Steve gets adopted by the neighbourhood he runs through every week day morning. He finds this confusing. Tony finds it amusing.

Locks Not Replaced

Tony angsts back at Avengers' HQ, Ross is a bully and Steve makes sure he doesn't get away with it. In other words, there is much regret, a bit on the philosophy of locks, adventure and far too many Robin Hood metaphors.

woof

For a prompt on the avengers kinkmeme: "...something different happens when Steve gets Dr Erskine's serum plus the Vita ray treatment... Steve does get taller and stronger, but when the first full moon hits, he turns into a big friendly looking dog. Yes, he's a weredog, not a werewolf."

Mission: Baby

Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

The Asset finds himself in charge of the care of a small baby, but somehow he knows—he has to protect the baby from all harm, whatever the cost.

14 Tracks

Pairings: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Avengers Team 14 tracks from Steve's iPod and how they got on there.

Life Will Rattle Your Bones

Pairings: Erik Lehnsherr & Steve Rogers

Captain America and the Howling Commandos find Schmidt sooner than they thought... wait, what do you mean this is a *different* Schmidt?

In war-torn Germany, the paths of Steve Rogers and Erik Lehnsherr cross, part, and cross again.

come build me up

Pairings: Sharon Carter & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

“Do you ever feel like -- like you joined up because you wanted to do good. You wanted to do the right thing but somewhere along the way, you just lost the whole fucking plot.”

“All of the time.”

Or: the one where Captain America and Agent 13 give long distance friendship a whirl.

Down in the Worn Out Place Again

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Wanda Maximoff

“You don't look a day over 85, Captain,” Wanda says.

Natasha smiles, just barely, and nudges Steve with her elbow. “She makes jokes now.”

(Post AoU, stories about friendship.)

Satellites

Characters: Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Nick Fury Pairings: Natasha Romanov & Steve Rogers, Minor Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

In the immediate aftermath of SHIELD's collapse and Steve's plunge into the Potomac, Natasha considers her place in the world. Also the fact that Steve is depressing.

Timeless Classics

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Avengers Team Five An undetermined number of times (six, apparently) Steve unexpectedly got the reference (sort of), and one time everyone discovered something new together.

you just wait and see

Pairings: Rocket Raccoon & Steve Rogers

“Thor said you’re the captain.” Rogers says, his voice distant, sad smile growing into a sadder grin. “Tough job.”

The Small Hours

Pairings: Steve Rogers & T'Challa, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

"I'm not getting him back, am I." The words were flatly delivered – not a question so much as fatigued resignation. "We will do everything we can to help him," T'Challa quietly replied, but he wouldn't lie, not about this. Not to a fellow warrior he respected on and off the field of battle. "The possibility does exist, however, that the triggers are permanent."

The Man We All Remember From the Newsreels

Still getting used to the twenty-first century, Steve comforts himself with memories of long-gone friends. But Howard Stark, the man Steve remembers, is nothing like the man he sees in the newsreels.

we're all choir boys at best

Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm

You are totally getting laid tonight. "Please stop talking." You hijacked my brain first, this is totally not my fault.

Epistaxis

Steve doesn't worry the first time he gets a bloody nose that won't quit. But when it happens a second, third, fourth... He, and his teammates, start to get concerned.

You Close Your Eyes and the Glory Fades

His body isn’t his own, he knows that, knew before the procedure that everything would change. That was the easiest thing to wrap his head around, actually, the physical changes. He’s used to his body betraying him, so this is just another thing to learn his way around. But the colors of everything, even the sliver of blue sky he could see, craning his head at the tiny window, look different.

Looking For Answers (From The Great Beyond)

After the Battle of New York is over, and Loki and the tesseract are returned to Asgard, Steve takes a road trip across the country, and tries to figure out what he wants to do next.

Mourning the Future

Steve's ties to the past and the future are pretty tenuous, and the serum ensures he lives in an eternal present state of ever-youthful vigour. When an old war buddy gets handed his last marching orders, Steve has to wonder if everyone will eventually leave.

Riviera Life

Sam and Steve have been traversing Europe looking for Bucky. Not everyone is convinced it isn’t an open invitation road trip.

Voluntary Bros.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Johnny Storm

"Dude, you could be twins, they tested you before they defrosted you to see if you were a clone or something, or if he was a clone," Clint said.

"I want to talk to him, I think. I mean, a girl threw her latte at me last week for not calling her back and this dude felt me up at an art gallery yesterday," Steve said.

Two Brooklynites and One Big Apple

Pairings: Miles Morales & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

“You did good out there today,” Captain America said, brushing a layer of detritus from his unfathomably broad shoulder. “I’ll see you around.”

“Not if I see you first,” replied Miles, fingergunning with one hand as he sent a web rope fwipping off into the distance with the other, catapulting himself away at tremendous speed.

... in which two superheroes battle with bad guys, embark on community art lessons, and a friendship forms along the way.

Battle Fatigue

Steve thought he was doing okay. Things weren't going great, but they were fine, manageable even, and then suddenly they weren't.

We Become New Yorkers (or: Five Times Steve Rogers Looked For Home, and One Time Home Found Him)

New York is a million cities at the same time. This is how Steve found his.

A beautiful day in the neighborhood

In which Steve and Peter learn that the best way to get through a bad situation is together. And to avoid collapsing buildings. And that concussions are terrible, terrible things.

Leviticus 25

"You want to save Bucky Barnes? You are going to have to put your own house in order first because he is going to need a rock to cling to. You are not ready to be that rock for him. You owe it to him -- and more importantly, you owe it to yourself -- to figure things out, figure out how you can be happy in this time and place, whether or not Barnes is with you."

Strike

Sometimes the road to recovery involves bowling. Conveniently, so does the one to the Grand Canyon.

Conversation in Wakanda

“I have been told that you had the privilege to share a training session with some of our Dora Milaje,” T’Challa says. “May I ask how it went?”

“Well,” the Captain huffs. “There’s no polite way to say it: I had my ass handed to me. Repeatedly.”

He sounds and looks utterly delighted.

Contact Light

Everyone thought computers would be the thing that really blew Steve's mind about the 21st century. They were wrong. When he finds out that he missed the moon landing, it's the start of an ongoing obsession with space that maybe involves Neil deGrasse Tyson, Twitter, and Star Trek marathons.

Twenty-Two

“This is Lucky,” Clint said when a dog got between him and Natasha. Lucky’s vest was bright, like desert mornings and night explosions.

“Does he help?” Natasha asked.

Clint pressed his hands flat on the counter behind him. “He saved my life.”

Natasha looked at Steve, her expression fierce. Steve resisted the urge to yank down his sleeves. Instead, he dug his nails into the puckered skin on his forearms.

AKA An AU in which Steve is a veteran just trying to survive (or not).

Gray

Peter doesn't expect Steve to show up at his house one night when he gets home from school. He also doesn't expect to have a long conversation with him, and choose to be on his side instead.

We're Happy, Free, Confused, and Lonely at the Same Time.

"Tony isn't sure, but he *thinks* Steve Rogers is going to try and argue with him about not being a kid, while wrapped up in a fluffy blanket and plaid pyjama pants watching a Disney movie. Tony really hopes that is the case. The Captain America voice looses all affect when wrapped up in that blanket and Tony can't wait to inform him as such." - The one where Tony realises that Captain America and Steve Rogers are not the same person, and Steve is so much younger then he thought.

This Isn't A Love Song, This Isn't A Fable

Steve's not OK with people's perception of Captain America, no matter what he says or how much he pretends otherwise. It's like no one in this time period realizes that there's more to him than a spangly outfit. And yes, he's including the Avengers in that. ... or, the one where everything's all right, until it's not.

it's safe here in our new world

Post TWS. In which Natasha and Steve go shopping, have Thursday night movie nights, and learn that Natasha loves to platonically kiss Steve. Which is good, because Steve loves being platonically kissed by Natasha.

Shadowboxing

Pairings: Matt Murdock & Steve Rogers

It doesn’t matter how many times you fall – what matters most is how many times you get back up. Steve Rogers knew this lesson far too well and it was one Matt Murdock had endured all his life. With both men at their lowest, could a chance friendship bring each of them to their feet again?

Everybody Eats When They Come to My House

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

“You’ll ruin your dinner,” Sam says, gesturing with Steve with his spatula.

i fear for the calendar; its days are numbered

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

Before she goes off the grid, Natasha gives Steve her phone number. He’s honored that he’s the only one to be trusted with it, but quickly learns that she spends most of her free time texting him Dad jokes.

Status Quo Ante

Pairings: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers

A tale in which Sam suspects he should be used to this by now, for values of 'this' that involve certain folks he hangs out with and situations he finds himself in, Team Cap becomes Team Ex-Cap becomes TBD, and nobody but Clint really wants to know what happened to Scott Lang's GI Joes. (Sam Wilson from the final scene to the mid-credits scene.)

The Glass Parade

Pairings: Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

Steve thinks that he’s seen Natasha be at least three different people in the short time he’s known her, and he isn’t sure which one is real.

In which the most confusing part of the future is how much Steve has in common with Natasha, and the fact that she seems dead-set on being his friend.

Still Life

Steve Rogers and a very modern form of art therapy. (The one where Steve draws himself out of despair and into some notoriety when his cartoons hit the internet, but he's still not allowed to look at Tumblr without an okay from Pepper.)

Selective Service

The serum's given Steve a lot, but it hasn't taken anything away from him. Not even the things he never wanted in the first place.

I'm a Hustler, Baby

Steve Rogers has a talent for pool--and for making others believe he's terrible at it.

The Healing Properties of Felt-Tip Pens

Rapid healing has worked wonders on Steve Rogers' body, but occasionally it really screws with his head. In the aftermath of torture, Bruce Banner helps Steve to reconcile mind and body.

If I Die Before I Wake

It's his job, as their leader, to endure the sadistic focus of their captor, and that is the one thought that carries Steve through.

Even Gods Do

Captain America doesn't have a good relationship with sleep anymore. Also, he's not a toy.

Under My Skin

Written for a prompt on avengerkink: I want to see something where, for whatever reason, Steve's accelerated healing turns out to be a bad thing. Something where the faster healing is making things worse. I would prefer something other than the standard, super-healing allows for more torture without death. “He's lucky – to have the serum, to have you all.” Tony wasn't sure about that first part. When one faced death and destruction every day on the job, there were many advantages to having a healing factor...and a great many disadvantages as well.

A Glossary of the 21st Century

Pairings: pre-Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov

Steve's sick of not understanding what's going on, and the team are not all that helpful, so he starts keeping an illustrated notebook for further research. With the help of wiki, google and Logan he starts to settle in and find his place in the twenty-first century.

Blanket Gift Policy

“You didn’t,” Bucky said, with no real hope of being contradicted. Clint shrugged helplessly and passed him the large, soft bundle wrapped in shiny purple foil.

“Sorry.” Tony covered his eyes with one hand.

“I’m getting a migraine.”

“So,” Bruce said wearily, “counting Clint, me, Bucky, Tony, and Sam, that brings it up to five.”

“Excuse you, mine’s not a blanket,” Sam said. “Mine’s a slanket. Big difference.”

Bucky resisted the urge to throw the whole heap of parcels at Sam’s head. “Because it has sleeves? It’s still a blanket, Wilson. They’re all blankets. Even Thor’s direct-from-Asgard raven gift delivery was a cloak, which just means it’s a blanket with a strap. We all got Steve a goddamn blanket.”

One Tin Soldier

Written for a prompt at avengerkink: Because really, under any other circumstances, why would they follow him when he's some guy who's younger than the rest of them (time as a Capsicle aside), who goes around wearing that spangly outfit, who's not even used to the modern world? Why Steve Rogers, rather than a Norse god or the CEO of Stark Industries or anyone else?

“Love is for children,” she'd said, but respect knew no such bounds. The five times the Avengers accepted Steve as their leader, and the one time they followed without question.

and if there's life we'll see it

Steve is instantly taken with this idea of having the picture of the person calling you flash on your screen when they ring your cell.

Secure Your Own Oxygen Mask (Before Assisting Others)

Steve keeps going, because they need him. Being Captain America - having the serum - is a responsibility and a privilege he takes seriously, and he won't waste it by sitting around resting in the middle of a crisis. But then the work is over, and the original victims of the crisis aren't the only ones needing looking after.

Way of the Eagle

Clint introduces Steve to kung-fu movies. Things escalate quickly.

Walking Wounded

In the aftermath of the battle against the Chitauri, Steve's doing just fine. Until he's not. Fortunately, Thor is a perfect mother-hen, Tony makes decent back-up, JARVIS is a genius, and Soap Operas are life-changing. (Or, Post-Shawarma Feels.)

[shih-coulda-had-it]

#10 for the first list, afohiko if you’re still taking prompts

anon, there's four number 10s on that list, so i took the liberty of choosing which.

10. hiding their face in the other's neck | afohiko | wc: 805

a/n: honestly, you could read this as an alternate scene from dfohiko verse set during the years Toshinori was off in the States. tw for mentions of human trafficking and off-screen abuse of a captive?

//

The disapproving click of a tongue has Sorahiko stirring from his half-conscious state. He knows that sound; he associates it with long-distant memories about running the nascent League of Villains for an asshole he used to call husband. When a base-level villain inevitably overstepped or showed delusions of grandeur, Sorahiko heard that little ‘tsk’ and arranged for a body-drop.

“Sensei!” cries an eager, youthful voice. “I’m so honored you came!”

“Well,” says All for One silkily, “how could I resist the offer of a flight Quirk?”

Sorahiko tries to calculate how long he’d been held captive. There’d been four of them, all equipped with Quirks tailored for capture: netting, some kind of knockout gas, magnetism, and an aerial ace in the hole that Gran Torino had mistaken for a landlocked racer.

He’s woken up sitting in this coffin of a closet… twice now.

Accessories confiscated, limbs bound, and after he’d mouthed off (and gotten unceremoniously roughed up for it), gagged--Sorahiko still can’t consider this a professional attempt at Quirk trafficking. It used to be so much more violent. More humiliating too, since they’ve left him in his jumpsuit.

Kids.

“It’s an old-timer,” says the magnetism guy, who seems to be aiming for a clinical tone. They always want to impress All for One with a calm and collected face. “Dressed like a pro-hero, but we didn’t see him on any media outlets.”

“Hits like a bastard, though.” Voice number three. Sorahiko doesn’t recognize it, and he can’t make a guess as to which idiot it belongs to. His head hurts. His ribs hurt. They’ve somehow missed the fact that Jet pumps the air out of his lungs via the plates on his shins; Sorahiko can feel that air circulating.

“Did anyone in this clever group find out his name?”

Voice number four. “He had that belt buckle…” A quick snapping of ungloved fingers. “That English letter! ‘G’! For, uh… [gramps], maybe?”

“Maybe you’d prefer to take a look for yourself, sensei?” asks the first voice. Footsteps. Sorahiko braces himself, shoulders against the closet’s walls. The metal click of a padlock undone, the rattle of a chain--

“Such a spectacle made for one inconsequential--”

As the doors open, All for One’s dry comment disappears altogether. The flood of white fluorescent light has Sorahiko slamming his eyes shut, his breath hitching in pain, a rolling wave of it that elicits a pathetic Jet. He’s grateful that Toshinori is blissfully ignorant and happy in the States right now.

One of them ought to be.

All for One says, soft, “Well, now.”

“It’s a strong Quirk,” the first voice tempts. “Worth a lot, right?”

Footsteps. The sense of a shadow falling over Sorahiko, possibly blocking out the room’s light. He flinches at the careful touch to his cheek, fingers skimming a bruise, but All for One--and it has to be All for One--simply slides his hand to the nape of Sorahiko’s neck.

He cracks a bleary eye open.

All for One’s red eyes gleam with something like triumph. He says, not to Sorahiko, “A priceless catch. Tell me something… Which Quirks were essential to catching him?”

There is a tense silence. Sorahiko wonders if the wannabe villains understand what’s at stake here. How close are they? Will they sell each other out, or volunteer themselves like fools, thinking they can earn All for One’s favor?

“It was a group effort,” voice number three tests, and Sorahiko lets his vision go dark again, sighing through the gag. Morons.

“How inefficient,” says All for One, and squeezes Sorahiko’s neck in reassurance before letting go. A rustle of fabric as his husband straightens to his full height. “I remember none of your Quirks are capable of dealing physical harm. There’s no reward for damaged goods.”

He moves swiftly. There are certainly times when All for One makes a show of gifting or retrieving Quirks, but when time is of the essence, it only takes a sweep of the palm.

Choked-off screams. Thumps of limp bodies hitting the floor.

And after all of it, the return of All for One’s hand on Sorahiko’s neck ushering him forward, gentle, until his face is pressed up against All for One’s neck. It’s warm. Enticingly so. Sorahiko stutters on an exhale and feels first the gag loosening, then himself being carefully scooped up into a bridal carry.

“My things,” he rasps.

“Easily replaceable.”

Sorahiko snorts. “By you? Unlikely.”

“I’m a generous man,” All for One says, faking hurt. “And what could they cost? They’re hardly top-of-the-line products, Gran Torino.”

Fine. Why not pull out his trump card. This is already a hellish situation. Sorahiko pretends that he isn’t hiding his face by shoving it further against All for One’s neck, and he mutters, “They took my ring.”

“... I’ll make sure the cleaners comb this safehouse thoroughly.”

[marvel-sluts]

Sherlock Holmes

request: Loki x Lab Assistant reader

29. movie marathon (request what movies)

36. first kisses.

Where reader loves watching Sherlock Holmes (BBC) and introduced them to Loki and started watching the series with him.

- @tom-hlover

prompt list

pairing: Loki x reader

warnings: swearing, fluff.

summary: you are a lab assistant at Stark towers who has started dating Loki. you have been trying to help him adjust to midgaurdian technology so you try introducing him to Sherlock Holmes in hopes that he might like the TV show as much as you do.

a/n: sorry this is so short but I hope you like it! enjoy loves.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

you worked at the lab at Stark towers, often encountering odd bits of aliens and wierd artifacts that the avengers find on their missions. because of this your work life was often very hectic but you wouldn't change it for the world. you had made some great friends in the avengers, not to mention the fact that you were dating the God of Mischief.

you had taken it upon yourself to help Loki with all the technology that he didn't have back on Asgard, but that was a lot harder than it sounds. a lot of the time it ends in him getting very annoyed and huffing something along the lines of "bloody midgaurdian technology" but refusing to give up because he didn't want to disappoint you.

you had the idea awhile back to slowly introduce more technology into his everyday life. at first you started off small, like showing him videos on your phone and getting him to use things like a toaster more often. but today you were going to try to get him to watch a TV show with you.

»»————-　♡　————-««

"what are you watching darling?" Loki asked, plopping himself onto the sofa next to you.

"Sherlock Holmes." you replied, hitting pause on the show and offering him your bowl of popcorn.

"I think I've read that, is this one of those movies?" Loki asked, taking a handful of popcorn and munching on it loudly.

"this is a TV show, it's similar to a movie but there are different episodes. sort of like chapters in a book." you said. "do you want to watch?"

"yes, alright. it can't be too bad." he replied, as you curled up to him and wrapped a blanket around the both of you. "what's happened so far?" he asked, taking another handful of popcorn.

"well in this episode there is a hound on the loose thats killing people, you might have read the book of this episode though. have you ever read the Hound of the Baskavilles?"

"no I haven't, although I might after this." he said, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer as you pressed play.

a little while later a very loud Norse God strolled into the room.

"what are you watching brother?" Thor asked, causing you to press pause on the show for the second time.

"Sherlock Holmes." Loki replied, grabbing another handful of popcorn.

"is it one of those midgaurdian TV shows? Lady Natasha told me about them." Thor boomed.

"yeah it is." you said, "do you want to watch with us?"

"thank you Lady y/n, but I have to train with Man of Iron." Thor said, before grabbing Mjölnir from the table and heading off to the gym.

you chuckled slightly before pressing play and taking the popcorn bowl off of Loki making him glare playfully at you.

»»————-　♡　————-««

"that was brilliant" Loki said once the titles had started rolling.

"yeah it was, I loved how Sherlock figured it out before anyone else and the gas in the forest just made it so much better" you said, before realising you were rambling and stopping. "sorry" you muttered.

"what for darling?" Loki asked, tucking a loose hair behind your ear.

"for rambling." you said, looking down.

"never apologise for something you are passionate about. I like listening to you." he said.

"really?" you asked, looking up at him through your lashes.

"yes."

"I love you Loki." you said, leaning towards him.

"I love you too y/n." he replied, leaning forward and kissing you softly. your hands found their way into his hair, deepening the kiss and pulling him closer to you. he wrapped his arms around your waist, wanting to be as close to you as possible. you pulled away, gasping for air as a wide smile took over your face.

"you are so beautiful." Loki said, running his fingers through your hair.

"so are you." you mutter, kissing him again quickly, making him smirk.

"come on darling, we have to watch the next episode." Loki said, hitting the play button and pulling you into his side again. you smirked against his side, you had a feeling that you would be kissing Loki a lot more often from now on.

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

It's Delicate: PART I

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Summary: Spencer Reid finds himself at a gas station at 2:00 am, thinking he’s only leaving with a cup of crappy coffee. But something taped to the door catches his eye. Spencer leaves the gas station with more than he intended: the chance at a friend, and maybe something more along the way.

Word Count: 2.8 K

Content Warnings: Mention of NA meeting, some case talk, mild language

Author's Note: This is my first chapter fic! I've only written one shots before, so bear with me. I truly do appreciate all reblogs, likes, and comments. Thank you!!

It's Delicate

Spencer doesn’t really care for gas station coffee, but at 2:00 am it’s the only thing that’s open. He pulls into the parking spot and turns off his Volvo. The check engine light is on, he needs to get into a mechanic, but between his NA meetings and work, it’s difficult to even catch his breath.

So that’s what Spencer does. In the middle of the gas station parking lot at 2:00 am, Spencer sits in his blue Volvo and breathes. He takes deep breaths, the ones that he uses when he has to calm down victims when they’re rescued. It’s grounding, breathing like this he thinks. It’s the kind of breath that Spencer takes when his head is fuzzy from sleeplessness and the only thing that can keep his eyes from drooping is a steady stream of coffee.

He unbuckles his seat belt and gets out of his car. Shutting the door, Spencer surveys the rest of the parking lot. He sees a couple other cars in the lot, he supposes it’s the gas station attendants, but he feels his shoulders tense at the thought of trouble. The bell attached to the door rings as Spencer opens the door. It's a small convenience store, one that Spencer has been frequently at odd hours after the BAU’s jet lands. He’s grown to know the owner, Jeff, who for the past 4 years hasn’t been around all too often.

“I’ll take a regular coffee,” Spencer asks the young man behind the counter. He doesn’t say anything in return, but nods his head in understanding as Spencer hands him a $5 bill and tells him to keep the change.

“Night,” Spencer tells the man, who he’s never seen before, when he hands him his coffee. Again, the young man doesn’t answer. Spencer tries to salvage the awkward encounter by chalking up the man’s coldness by it being so late.

As Spencer pushes against the door with the sleeve covered part of his arm, a poster that’s eye level catches his eye. It’s one of those posters where you can rip off the phone number and contact the person. But instead of a 20-something looking for a roommate, it’s a book club advertisement.

Spencer, quickly for a normal person, but slowly for himself, reads over the sign. The book club is hosted at the local bookstore, Hooked on Books, that Spencer has always meant to check out. From what he can gather, the list of numbers are from people looking for what the poster refers to as “book buddies”. Spencer’s eyes scan the list. There aren't any names attached to the numbers, Spencer supposes that the idea behind that is so bias won’t come into play.

It almost seems like the perfect trap: rip off one of these little pieces of paper with a phone number and call that person with the intention of being their book buddy. It’s something that Spencer knows deep in his bones he’s meant to avoid. But it’s like there’s an invisible string pulling at him to rip the third piece of paper from the group and stuff it carefully into the safety of his wallet.

--

It’s been five days since Spencer visited the cold man at the gas station and took the number from the poster. In those five days, Spencer slept for two and was back on plane to the middle of Montana for the next three.

After a long day in the sun, Spencer relishes in the cold water from the hotel shower. Even though he had to crouch slightly, Spencer still appreciated the way the chilly water seems to wash him anew. He never sleeps well when the team is on a case, it’s like his mind can’t rest. Well, his mind can never really rest, since it’s technically always growing and changing, especially during sleep.

Spencer’s thoughts travel from his messed up circadian rhythm to the piece of paper that burns a hole in his wallet. He steps out of the shower and dresses in his pajamas. It’s cold in the hotel run, as JJ likes to sleep in the coldest temperature humanly possible. Spencer knows that she finds the weight of blankets comforting. He makes a mental note to put some of his pillows on JJ’s bed, so she can pretend it’s her boys and Will in the bed with her. Spencer can’t help but wonder what’s like to have a child or a partner that misses you. It must be so bittersweet: the promise of coming home, but the threat of having to leave them all behind at moments notice.

Letting his hair air dry, Spencer unlocks the door and enters his and JJ’s hotel room. Out of the whole team, Spencer likes sharing with JJ the best. She’s the most organized and usually, they’ll spend the night on FaceTime with the boys and Will watching a movie, depending on the time.

“You’re all good, JJ. Thanks for letting me get in first,” Spencer says, flopping down on his bed. He shuts off his light, essentially telling JJ that he doesn’t want to talk about the case, or Henry, or anything really.

“Good night, Spence,” JJ says, before shutting off the rest of the lights and heading into the bathroom.

For a couple of minutes, Spencer lays in the all consuming dark. He tries the breathing exercise that’s scientifically proven to make you fall asleep. He counts, one, two, three, four breaths in and holds for one, two, three, four, five, six, seven and let's go for one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

He tries it for a couple of rounds, but suspects thinking about numbers makes him think about the phone number. Spencer can’t exactly pinpoint why he’s nervous to reach out to the number. Maybe it’s his constant fear of judgement or fear of not being enough, he can’t tell.

Knowing that sleep is probably not coming anytime soon, Spencer rolls on his side so he faces the window overlooking the hotel parking lot. He can’t stop thinking about the case. The way the victim’s mother and father walk around the precinct with a lifeless look in their eyes, staying villgiant no matter how many times JJ tells them to go home and rest.

Spencer doesn’t want to think about the case, so his mind flits to another subject: Hooked on Books Book Buddies. He can’t really pinpoint why he didn’t reach out to his book buddy. But laying there in the bed, Spencer feels strongly compelled to do anything to get his mind off the case, so he climbs out of bed to reach for his phone.

It’s tucked away neatly in his go bag, unlike JJ, Spencer doesn’t have anyone that’s waiting for him at home. Sure he has his mother, but if she needed him, the home would wait until 8 am to call Spencer. He unlocks it and the blue light illuminates the room. Somehow, Garcia had convinced him to get an updated phone. Spencer hardly uses it, but does appreciate being able to get pictures of JJ’s boys and his mother.

He memorized the number in the ten seconds or so it took him to rip the little slip of paper from the poster and put it away in his wallet. Spencer punches the numbers into a new contact, but hesitates when he’s prompted to give a name. He doesn’t know the first thing about this person. Seriously, this is like FBI 101 on the do not listen, he thinks.

Spencer pushes the thoughts of serial killers, for what feels like the first time in ten years, from his mind when he hits the button to message his mysterious book buddy. He types out a message a couple of times, but ends up deleting them because he sounds so incredibly stupid.

Spencer: Hello. I do apologize for my late message. I work odd hours, but I came across your number at the gas station on the corner of Richmond Street and Connor Avenue in Woodbridge. If you are interested, perhaps we can have a conversation about Hooked on Books’ Book Club?

Spencer, realizing that the message he wrote is going to be as good as it gets, hits the little arrow for “send”. He watches as his message turns blue and the little gray delivered pops up. He doesn’t expect the person to send a message back yet. He’s all the way in Montana and they’re in Woodbridge, Virginia, presumably. If it’s 2:30 am in Montana, it’s 4:30 back at home. That’s a little too late for someone with a normal 9 to 5 to be up for work and a little too late for a person that’s joining a book club to haven’t gone to sleep yet.

Don’t profile them, Spencer.

“What’s got you glued to the phone, Reid?” JJ says, with a smirk as she walks out from the bathroom and climbs into her bed. She came in so quietly, or rather, Spencer was staring so intensely at his phone that he didn’t realize.

“Something with my mother, JJ,” he lies, and he doesn’t even know what he can’t tell her the truth.

“Okay, Spence. I just want to make sure you’re all good,” JJ says quietly, her back must be facing Spencer because her voice is muffled a little bit.

“Thanks, JJ, uh good night, now,” Spencer says, effectively ending the conversation.

JJ doesn’t say anything after that, perhaps she just understands that Spencer doesn’t want to talk. Spencer rests flat on his back and tries a couple more rounds of the breathing exercise, but nothing seems to make his brain shut off. Despite the way his eyelids droop and the way it’s almost painful to continue to think, Spencer can’t seem to fall asleep.

He thinks about his Book Buddy, whoever they might be. Spencer hopes that they are around his age. He can’t remember a time that he had a friend his age that wasn’t through work. He has people. JJ is the closest thing to a sister that he’ll ever get and he knows that Derek loves him like a brother, despite his teasing. Emily and Penelope are Spencer’s rock. And then there’s Tara, Matt, and Luke, though Spencer has really gotten a chance to know them all too well, he knows that they’re a team.

But Spencer has always dreamt of having a friend. As a little kid, he used to make up imaginary friends that would listen to his science facts and perform chemistry experiments from him. When he got to high school, his dreams were occupied by someone who’d reach for his hand after he’d been beaten down or strung to a football post. Sure he had Ethan, but that was something charged and electric that left Spencer longing for someone again.

Spencer hadn’t had dreams about a friend in a long time, but tonight he dreamt of coffee and books in a small café and a faceless stranger that would listen to him and laugh with him.

--

Even though he fell asleep relatively shortly after thinking about his Book Buddy, Spencer did not feel well rested. He turns around in his bed and notices that JJ’s bed is already neatly made. The bathroom is empty, so Spencer reckons that JJ and Emily must already be at the police station.

He wants to savor the last couple of minutes in bed, maybe chase a dream or two of strangers swapping books and making memories over expensive coffee and scones. But reality calls him back home. Spencer checks his phones for work updates (and maybe a message or two from his Book Buddy), but the only notifications on his phone is a Forbes article and a couple emails from Georgetown.

Spencer, heading to the bathroom, gets interrupted by a loud and persistent knock on his hotel room door. He opens the door, revealing an equally tired looking Luke. He waves Spencer good morning before slumping down in the desk chair in the corner of the hotel room.

“I’ve been sent by JJ to get you, she thinks you’re acting weird,” Luke says, expecting Spencer to explain himself.

Awkwardly, Spencer makes something in between a grimace and a frown. He rolls his eyes, but plays along with what he thinks Luke’s little game.

“Well I’m always weird, it would be weird if I wasn’t being weird,” Spencer says, heading into the bathroom with a pile of work clothes. He shuts the door, both literally on Luke and metaphorically on their conversation.

In the bathroom, Spencer dresses out of his pajamas and into a pair of well worn pants and a light purple button up. He forgot his contacts at his apartment, but luckily had a back up pair of glasses in his go bag. Spencer, looking in the mirror, never particularly carried for the reflection that looks back at him. It always seems like his hair is too messy, or his collar is all twisted, or his eyebags are too prominent.

At least the glasses can kind of cover up his eye bags, Spencer thinks as he shuts off the light and closes the bathroom door behind him. Luke, who still is slouched in the chair, looks at his phone.

“Waiting for Penelope to send you a picture of Sergio or something?” Spencer asks, the snark in his voice isn’t missed by Luke.

“You’re one to talk, JJ was telling me how you’re being kind of secretive for the last couple of weeks,” Luke counters.

“Yeah, that’s my work mandated therapist, Luke. You know from the time I was in jail,” Spencer shoots back a little harder than he intended. The look that Luke gives him is something akin to a hurt puppy and Spencer can’t help but feel a little bad for snapping at Luke’s teasing.

“Sorry, man,” Luke says, putting a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, “I get it, and you know I’m here for you, Reid. We might not be as close as you and Penny or you and JJ, but I’m here to listen to you,” Luke says, his hand on Spencer, who’s usually so hesitant to touch, is something Spencer never thought he would find comforting.

“Thank you,” is all Spencer can manage and somehow, Luke just gets it. They walk quietly to the parking lot where the SUVs are. The silence continues as they drive to the police station.

It’s still early, only 7:13 am. Spencer can only hope that they catch the unsub in the next couple of hours, so they can file the paperwork and be on their way to Quantico by 8:00 pm. Luke’s steady driving threatens to lull Spencer to sleep. His quiet presence, however, is interrupted with a buzz. Luke’s eyes dart to his phone that navigates them to the police station. He refuses to take direction from Spencer, who has a habit of being a terrible co-pilot.

“Check that for me,” Luke says, “it’s probably Penelope,”

Spencer raises his eyebrows and attempts to suppress a smirk at Luke’s blatant transparency.

“You know with updates about the case and whatnot,” Luke says, brushing Spencer’s teasing off and putting his attention back to the road.

“It’s not Garcia and for what it’s worth, Luke, I don’t see how she’d say no,” Spencer offers, genuinely wanting to see his two friends, who are so perfect for each other it’s almost ridiculous, get together.

Luke shuffles in his seat uncomfortably and pulls into the station. He shoots Spencer a lot, as if to say drop it. The last thing Luke wants is Tara and Matt to get wind of his excitement at Penelope texting him.

Spencer, who’s phone lights up alerting him that he has an unread message, feels a sudden surge in his heart. He’s so used to only getting messages from JJ about the cases or pictures of her boys, that a text not related to his work or his family leaves a smile to his face.

Spencer tries to not profile the message, but to just read it like a normal friend would.

Book Buddy (Y/N): Hey there😊! I can’t believe someone actually grabbed my number...I’m glad you’re interested in this. I’m Y/N and I don’t think you mentioned your name, I don’t make it a habit to meet up with strangers before not knowing their name.

Reading the message twice to make sure he can recite without any hesitation, Spencer’s face falls as he realizes that he forgot to tell them his own name. How could you be so clueless, Spencer, he thinks.

Quickly, because he knows that the rest of the team is waiting inside the police station, that is like a portal to the past, Spencer types out another message.

Spencer: My name is Spencer.

Spencer: I tend to be away for work quite often, so I do apologize for the late message. And for hiding my identity-- not that that was on purpose. Is it okay if we plan something when I get back to Virginia?

Spencer doesn’t expect a message right away, but he can tell that there’s going to be something Pavlovian about the way that little swoosh sound makes his fingers reach for his phone.

--

Thank You!! I love and appreciate all and every comments, likes, and reblogs. I love knowing what you think!!

--Taglist--

@shemarmooresfedora

@april-14-blog

@willowrose99

@calm-and-doctor

@spideygenius

@nomajdetective

[drmmyrs]

Remember Me (Becca x MC) Part 2

Hiii I’m back. Sorry again for the delay 😬I had such a hard time writing the ending so thank you so much @samanthadalton for all your help 😘Also, a big thanks to M anon for their suggestions and song request which I used some of.

tag list: @samanthadalton @crazzyplays @uselesslesbianfr @baexpoppy @alexroyard @alexlabhont @veenast @noixngn @sillyandcutewizardstuffs @doey-eyes8 @itszdavenport (If you wanna be added or removed or just prefer a certain ship just let me know ❤️)

Read Part 1

Pairing: Becca x MC (Emily)

Warnings: some swearing

Word Count: 2289

It's been an hour since Emily last came into my room to remind me of my doctor's appointment. And it's been about thirty minutes since I've been ready to go, physically at least. Naturally, I tried to get Chris to come with me instead because he's my boyfriend, right? Ughh fine, ex-boyfriend. But can you blame me, though? How am I suppose to move on when I literally have no memory of some sort of breakup or closure? I stare at the dull beige-colored ceiling, a view which has me panicking in the mornings right after I wake up, before I remember that I don't live at the sorority house anymore. I then close my eyes and get comfort in the memories I have left, my only anchor on the reality I knew, away from this freakish place with the people I don't even give a shit about.

After a couple more minutes, I begrudgingly get up with a groan and trudge downstairs, finding Emily waiting on the couch. She smiles upon seeing me, but I don't return the gesture, being genuinely annoyed at the prospect of having to spend an incessant amount of time with her. So instead, I walk past her towards the door, my heels clattering on the wooden surface. Emily then follows behind me from a distance, careful not to invade my space. Once outside, I walk straight towards the passenger door of Emily's junk of a car, grabbing the handle as I glare at Emily impatiently, waiting for her to unlock it. As soon as unlocked, I sink into the seat, slamming the door close harder than I intended. Emily, though, takes a second before going in, eyeing the seat suspiciously as if it might shatter anytime. Once seated, she places her hand on the gear stick, slightly trembling. And then it dawns on me, I may have forgotten about the accident, but it's probably still fresh from her memory, terrorizing her at every reminder. All this time, I've been complaining about how unfair everything is for me, not once considering how it may have affected her.

"Who was driving?" I ask. It may not be the best thing to talk about right now, but I have to know.

I see Emily flinch at the question, and before she even opens her mouth, I know. She looks out the windshield, her voice cracking when she replies, "I was."

I nod. My mom told me it was a drunk driver running a red light that hit us, so I don't blame her at all, not anymore.

"Is it–" The words come out sharp, so I stop and soften my voice. "Is it the first time you drove since?"

Emily doesn't reply immediately; instead, she shifts the gear and steps on the gas pedal as we begin to make our way towards the hospital. She grips the steering wheel tightly, anxiously looking at the road, her eyes obsessively sweeping for any oncoming traffic at every intersection.

"No. No it's not but..." Emily trails off, her knuckles turning white as her grip on the steering wheel tightens.

But it's her first time to drive with me in the car. I turn my head to look out the window, knowing full well I can't ease her fears. How can I when I'm the living reminder of everything she lost?

---------

I immediately regret my outfit choice as soon as we get into the waiting room, the frigid temperature biting at my skin, sending sharp pains like that of a needle across my exposed skin. I try to play it cool, but a shiver escapes my body, desperate for any source of heat. A few seconds later, a jacket appears in front of me, held by Emily who is wearing an annoyingly cute little smile on her face. I mumble thanks and take the jacket, placing it over my shoulders, smelling the scent of lavender as I bask in the comfort of heat.

I take out my phone and browse my socials, catching up on all the events I missed–or forgotten–while ignoring the get well soon messages from both people I know and don't know that have been piling up ever since the accident. A few minutes later, the doctor calls my name, and as I stand up, Emily does as well but then sits back down almost immediately, clearly unsure if her company is welcome.

I roll my eyes. "Come on."

---------

After a useless consultation–apparently, they can't do much to help me regain my memories–Emily suggests we stop by an ice cream parlor not far from here. I assent, but only because I need the comfort of a sugary snack right now, and it's been ages since I had one, or at least I think so.

We reach a store I don't recognize, replacing an office space that, while I never paid attention to before, was a pleasant fixture in my reality, not this... eyesore. I shake my head; I can't keep living in the past. I follow Emily into the store, reminding myself that this is my reality now.

Inside, the floor is patterned with alternating pink and black tiles, and the walls are coated with somewhat fresh pink paint adorned with decors that scream ice cream as if one might stumble into the shop looking for lunch or something.

"Welcome t–ah Emily and Becca! I haven't seen you girls in a while."

I turn around to see a guy, probably in his mid-twenties– smiling at us like...  I shoot Emily a side-eye. She, of course, fails to mention that the guy working here is buddy-buddy with me. So, is this the kind of couple we were? Those who frequent an ice cream parlor enough to be on a first-name basis with the ice cream guy? I internally groan in disgust at the thought.

"–Becca." I'm pulled out of my thoughts when I hear my name. Emily and the ice cream guy are looking at me expectantly.

"Sorry I didn't hear," I mumble.

"You'll be having strawberry, your usual, correct?" says the guy with a wide smile.

I do want strawberry, but I shake my head and say, "Vanilla," just to spite him, annoyed how some stranger knows my favorite ice cream flavor.

"Ooh, trying something new today, are we? One rocky road and vanilla coming right up," he announces in an annoyingly high pitch voice. I struggle not to roll my eyes.

"Where's the bathroom?" I ask, which is met by a look of confusion followed by a laugh.

"You know wh–" 

Emily quickly interjects, "The bathroom's there, Becca," pointing at a door at the back of the store.

I excuse myself and go to the bathroom, heading straight towards the mirror. I stare at my reflection, nitpicking every tiny detail that has changed throughout the years, changes I don't recognize at all. A tear rolls down my cheek, but I quickly wipe it away. I'm Rebecca fucking Davenport; I don't cry. I grip the sink tightly, overcome with a new resolution. I know who I am; they don't, convincing myself more than anyone else.

Once finishing up in the bathroom, I head back outside, noticing a different aura in the room. Emily is holding our orders with an apologetic look while the ice cream guy regards me with pity, something I've grown used to in the past few weeks. I take my ice cream from Emily, not meeting her gaze, and walk out of the store, striding ahead of her towards the car, not once looking back.

--------

On the ride home, silence weighs heavily between us as Emily bites at her lower lip, either contemplating what to say or waiting for me to go off on her. After an awkward amount of time, Emily finally breaks the silence.

"I'm sorry I–"

"Forget about it," I cut her off, too exhausted to engage with her. I think about the previous encounter, wondering if that would be my norm. Unfamiliar people coming up to me, sharing inside jokes and anecdotes while I stare blankly at them, wondering if I should explain my situation or just ignore them, being the bitch I know I am. I stare out the window, seeing all the changes in the city, musing about the memories I may have had alongside them, memories that I may or may not recover. It's as if an impostor had been living my life for the past two years, and now I'm forced to follow in their footsteps. It's obvious I had changed a lot during those years, my previous enemies becoming my closest friends, my greatest rival supposedly becoming the love of my life. Was she the love of my life? Was I happy with Emily?

It's already dark outside when we arrive home. I notice a few cars parked down the road, something unusual considering this is the only house for at least a couple of blocks. What do I know, though, it's not like I remember much about this place. I turn my attention back to the house; the lights inside are turned off, leaving a lone street lamp and the car's headlights as the primary sources of light, accentuating the jagged grey bricks of the house, almost giving an appearance of something sinister. This is ridiculous; I chide myself for being scared of a stupid house. 

Emily walks ahead towards the door while I follow a few steps behind. As soon as I walk inside, the light turns on, and I'm greeted by a chorus of surprise echoing throughout the house, coming from people whom I only recognize half of. I stare at them blankly, unimpressed but just mostly confused. My mother walks over to me and gives me a big hug.

"Happy birthday, sweetie."

Birthday? I inconspicuously look at my phone. Huh. I could've sworn I've seen the date today at least a few times. A few moments later, Emily steps forward with a cake in her hands.

"Happy birthday babe," she says, immediately followed by a look of horror. "Becca. Sorry."

Of course Emily had planned this. It doesn't really matter if I wanted to have a stupid party. She had to go ahead and decide for me.

"Go ahead and blow out the candles," my mom urges.

I blow out the candles, faking a smile for my mom. As much as I want to storm into my room, I'm not about to break my mom's heart by causing some unnecessary drama.

--------

Just a few moments into the party, and I'm already exhausted–people lining up to greet me, asking how I've been doing since the accident. I realize that most people here don't know about my condition, which means I have had to engage in quite a few conversations about the things I've supposedly been doing for the past few years, things I have no recollection of, to which I gave vague answers to avoid having to explain everything. 

I down my fourth glass of virgin cuba libre, eyeing the display of alcohol with contempt, resentful that I can’t drink because of the medicine I took earlier, when Zack drags me across the room to play some truth or dare with a bunch of people, some of whom I don't recognize. Thankfully, if there was one thing the sorority has taught me, it's that you don't have to know someone to ask the right questions or expertly avoid the common ones. That is of course until someone asks you the most unexpected question.

"Do you have a date for the wedding yet?"

I stare at them blankly, fumbling for words. Wedding? 

"I–I–"

But before I can make up an answer, Kaitlyn arrives with Emily in tow, and that's when I notice it, the ring on Emily's finger. I gasp for breath, feeling like the air is taken out of my lungs. And I almost don't notice it when Kaitlyn takes out her guitar and starts singing, joined by the others.

When all the tears are rolling down your face And it feels like yours was the only heart to break When you come back home and all the lights are out And you're getting used to no one else being around

Oh, oh, I'll be there

I look at the unfamiliar faces, singing their hearts out, gazing at me fondly. I then turn my gaze to Emily's ring finger, and sitting on it is a small but glistening diamond and part of me chastises myself for not noticing earlier. I feel the entire room’s eyes on me and suddenly, it becomes too much for me to withstand. I stand up, scrabbling to go to my room, footsteps following behind me. Once I got on the stairs, Emily shouts my name from behind, and I stop at the sound of her voice, turning around.

"We were engaged? Why didn't you tell me?" My voice comes out harsher than expected and it seems to take Emily by surprise too because she just stands there motionless, speechless. “Marriage is a big thing Emily, that’s not something you can just conveniently not tell me.” I let out a frustrated groan, momentarily letting the anger wash all over me before I’m left with a bitter feeling in the pit of my stomach. “I’m sick of having random people tell me things about my life which I can’t even remember when my own fianc–” I stop, not even being able to say the word, shaking my head as the agony brought by my predicament proves to be too much. “I can’t do this. I'm sorry," I croak before running towards my room, slamming the door behind me. I then curl myself in bed as the tears fall freely.