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#ready for comics or really want to do those
arceespinkgun · 2 days
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I'm sorry for this since I do hate how overrated he is in general, but I really wanted to make a post getting out my love for Prowl in the TF UK comics. He is just so clearly the best, most definitive version of the character in my opinion! Somehow, so many of the funniest moments from this continuity are Prowl-related and many of his quotes live rent-free in my head?! From jumping on a missile, to yelling at Jetfire in one of the Christmas specials ("You almost break the world record... FOR STANDING STILL!"), to thinking Jazz saying something will be "a piece of cake" is literal, that one time he yelled "SHUT UP!!!" at the Autobots and Decepticons and then added a tiny "please" afterward...!
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And in my opinion the funniest panel in all of the comics is a Prowl panel where he thinks Grimlock is dumb as a brick and imagines a literal brick!
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IIRC Prowl's introduction to the comics showed him trying to suggest other options than suicide when the Ark gets attacked only for Optimus to immediately ignore him, which really sets the tone for that dynamic. I was pretty surprised to see that Optimus (and later Grimlock, who is generally hilariously awful) are incredibly unstable leaders and that in almost every case I took Prowl's side in his arguments with them...?
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When I say "unstable," I really mean it
He isn't perfect, but he seemed to just want to the War to end and then stay ended from what I could tell. I kind of get the sense that a fandom in-joke about Prowl being a prick may have gotten overstated and led to Prowl actually being extremely obnoxious and immoral in things like IDW, since to me here he really came across more like a character who's justified in being irritated by how other people, normally his superiors, are acting because they're endangering others. Near the end of the comics, I really didn't like that Prowl was very much treated as being wrong for trying to get it through Grimlock's thick metal skull that Decepticons are people too? This isn't going to make sense for people who haven't read these issues, but to me it felt like Grimlock was shirking his duties as a leader and then setting Prowl up to fail to teach him a lesson the hard way, and it felt pretty cruel are overly edgy to me and not in-line with how Autobot and Decepticon dynamics were portrayed earlier. I know I'm biased, but I personally thought it was brave that Prowl stood up to Grimlock, the way Blaster had much earlier on.
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Going into these comics, I was really expecting to see a precursor to IDW Prowl or something, and I feel like I was misled! This version of the character feels almost like what IDW Prowl thought he was like. In the final annual story of this continuity, when Optimus actually apologizes for brushing Prowl off and explains that he's just been struggling emotionally (there's even a moment where it says, "Prowl gaped. Not only was he getting an apology, he was also getting an explanation," which really shows what kind of character Prowl is) and Optimus then says it's an honor to work with Prowl, I think I said "awww" out loud!!! And I thought it was hilarious that Prowl was so moved that he imagined a lump in his throat LMAO
"There's a ship fuelled and ready to life off, the assault team and medical crew are aboard. Prowl, I would be… honoured if you would join us," said Prime." And with that he extended a hand for Prowl to shake. There was a frozen moment or two before Prowl grabbed the proffered hand, pumping it. So charged with emotion was the moment, Prowl actually imagined a lump in a throat that he didn't possess!
I also thought Prowl was just as badass as he was hilarious: I loved it when Galvatron targeted Autobots including Prowl for having "mental flaws" by trying to use those to brainwash them into serving him and then Prowl's response was to just attack him and be like, "You forgot that we Autobots REPRESS our feelings!!!" Prowl was one of only three Autobots who ended up alive in the AU story "Rhythms of Darkness!" And he also once went back in time and had to relive his own destruction in order to stop Megatron, who he knocked out with a punch to the face:
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(It's Megatron possessing Snap Trap's body). This "Prime?!" "Nope—Prowl!" *punches him in the face* is such an iconic moment to me
Prowl also has a great backstory and was even a veteran before Optimus Prime was ever leader! You can read about that in my Jazz analysis post since they share a backstory. Prowl led a team who went around freeing Decepticon-controlled territories early in the War, and was one of the most dreaded Autobots! Not this is what I like—Prowl being a "terrorist" only in the eyes of the oppressors, not a civil terrorist in peacetime like in IDW! I think it's pretty likely that Prowl's type-A personality and intense sense of responsibility was probably informed a lot by his trauma on one of those early missions going so horribly wrong, since he seems to have behaved differently back then:
Prowl leaned over to Jazz. "Did we do okay?" he asked uncertainly, hoping Jazz wouldn't interpret this as weakness. As team leader, Prowl worried constantly that he would foul up, make some decision that would end up costing lives: theirs as well as others.
I think I'm not the only one who thinks sometimes having a favorite transformer who's really popular but it's only a couple of iterations that you're not interested in (nothing against TFA Prowl at all, I like him, I'm just very neutral on TFA the show), while almost nobody seems to know about the iteration you like and what you like about the character, can sometimes feel like a bit of a curse lol That's why I felt like sharing all of this!
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I was the one who's struggling to going through y6 but the realization I had when I realized you're my fav MineDai author a while back made my brain blue screen heuwje
Honestly thank you for the good food in both mediums ‼️‼️
OHH YOU'VE ALSO READ MY MINEDAI FICS??? mortifying BUT i'm so glad you enjoy my stuff hi ^^ !!
#snap chats#i love makin stuff for em.. they make my brain happy#also hi :) hope Y6 is A Game for you#ik a lot of people squint at it. i am one of those people#its not a terrible game it's just reaaaally mid imo and the plot's not saving it#but w/e we can talk bout that when you finish it i hope you're able to find more joy out of it than the typical player !#O BTW I SAY MORTIFYING CAUSE IM REALLY INSECURE ABOUT MY WRITING ☠️☠️#'snap why post then' because i have an agenda and i want to Not be an insecure baby about my writing#i do love writing when i get the ball rolling because with writing i feel like i can better explore why i love these charcters#i can only do so much with comics and all and sometimes comics just cant fully convey what im trying to say#but UGH minedai... i love writing them the most No Shit but i just do#their dynamic is so fun and interesting and i dont really see it portrayed in a way that tickles me#not saying how other people do it is bad or wrong obvi its just that there are aspects of it i dont see touched on too much#it makes me really happy when people say they like my writing because of that tho#cause i truly dont expect people to- sometimes i feel like i portray them wrong or just not in a way people like#so yeah im glad you like my fics ! def gives me motivation to keep writing :)#but yeah sorry for the prattle- again thank you for reading ^^#i hope to have more minedai stuff done. i just gotta think of stuff first..#too busy being ill over my cringe and writing fics for that- which i have a new one ready i just have to look it over again
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figmentforms · 8 months
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Part 247 of  “A Tale of Two Rulers” (Jan 24, 2024)
I managed to finish something!!! ᕙ(⊙ᴗ⊙')ᕗ
Thank yo all so much for your usual patience and kindness! Next update will be in about two months. Hopefully sooner.
I won't be able to go do conventions for a while since getting sick right now would be very very very bad timing with my medical situation, so I took on a big commission and a kickstarter to supplement my income a bit, so that will slow me down. If you happen to like Mothman or/or ita bags, you may like the upcoming KS. I will make a post when it's ready, but I promise I won't spam about it.
(Also, comic will be looking a little different like this from now on because my old set up broke and i had to switch to another one. ^_^')
★ Webtoon-  https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/a-tale-of-two-rulers/list?title_no=292453 ★ - I’m still building up this archive.
★Patreon- https://www.patreon.com/LorIllustration ★
★Store - www.etsy.com/shop/FigmentForms
for those that wonder how the medical stuff is going, I'll put that below the cut so anyone who doesn't want to see it can skip it easier:
Yay for not having cancer! A nice relief there! I'm now taking the various medications required to start my first embryo transfer. I'm really excited but also nervous. It will happen in just a few weeks and i'm really praying that the lil' guy lives and gets to be born. lol, now to enjoy the impossible task of trying to NOT be STRESSED as HARD AS I CAN.
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alpaca-clouds · 11 months
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Why the media CEOs will always learn the wrong lessons
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Yesterday a friend and I talked about how the entire (AAA) game industrie looked at BG3 being as popular as it is and going: "Oh, we need to produce 100+ hour games, I guess! Those sell!" Which... obviously is not why it is popular. The game is not popular because it has 100+ hours of gameplay, but because it has engaging characters, that are well-acted and that work as good hooks for the players. Like, let's face it: The reason why I so far have sunken 160 hours into this game is, because I wanna spend time with these characters - and because I wanna give them their happy endings.
But the same has happened too, just a bit earlier this year, right? When Barbie broke the 1 billion and every Hollywood CEO went: "Oh, so the people want movies based on toy franchises! Got it!" To which the internet at large replied: "... How is that the lesson you learned from this?"
Well, let me explain to you, why this is the lesson they learn: It is because the CEOs and the boards of directors at large are not artists or even engaged with the medium they produce. They mostly are economists. And their dry little hearts do not understand stuff more complex than numbers and spread sheets.
That sounds evil, I know, but... It is sadly the truth. When they look at a successful movie/series/game/book/comic, they look at it as a product, not a piece of art or narrative. It is just a product that has very clear metrics.
To them Barbie is not a movie with interesting stylistic choices that stand out from the majority of high budget action blockbusters. It is a toy movie with mildly feminist themes.
Or Oppenheimer is not a movie to them with a strong visual language and good acting direction. No, it is a historical blockbuster.
And this is true for basically every form of media. I mean, books are actually a fairly good example. In my life I do remember the big book fads that happened. When Harry Potter was a success, there was at least a dozen other "magical school" book series being released. When Twilight was a big success there was suddenly an endless number of "teen girl falls in love with bad boy, who is [magical creature]" YA. When the Hunger Games was a success, there were hundreds of "YA dystopia" books. Meanwhile in adult reading, we had the big "next Game of Throne" fad.
Of course, the irony is, that within each of those fads there might have been one or two somewhat successful series - but never even one that came even close to whatever started the fad.
Or with movies, we have seen it, too. When Avengers broke the 1 billion (which up to this point only few movies did) the studios went: "Ooooooh, so we need shared universe film series" - and then all went to try and fail to create their own cinematic universe.
Because the people, who call the shots, are just immensely desinterested in the thing they are selling. They do not really care about the content. All they care about is having a supposedly easy avenue of selling it. Just as they do not care about the consumer. All they care about is that the consumer buys it. Why he buys it... Well, they do not care. They could not care less, in fact.
So, yeah, get ready for a 20 overproduced games with a bloated 100+ hours of empty gameplay, but without the engaging characters. And for like at least 15 more moves based on some toy franchise, that nobody actually cares about.
And then get ready for all the CEOs to do the surprised Pikachu face, when all of that ends up not financially successful.
Really, I read some interviews yesterday from some AAA-studio CEOs and their blatant shock and missing understanding on why BG3 works for so many people.
Because, yeah... capitalism does not appreciate art. Capitalism does not understand art. It only understands spread sheets.
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I found out Bruce substituted as Nightwing and I know there's an explanation in the comics and I've seen the picture and yes, it looks like when your mom to dad tries on one of your outfits to prove they can fit whatever size they wore at your age, but Christ I love to imagine the actual scenario as to how this happened. Dick Grayson in my head got badly injured on patrol and his one leg and one arm got broken, he made the decision, right as the morphine hit him:
Dick Grayson: I have to patrol, I am Nightwing the protector of Bludhaven and uh-- Tim, when did you get a twin?
Tim: What? Where?
Tim looks at Damian, who shrugs.
Dick Grayson laughs as he looks at his non-broken hand.
Dick Grayson: I have two hands?!
Jason: Those pain meds are kicking in.
Dick Grayson: I feel so good... I wanna lay here forever.
Dick Grayson chuckles, relaxing in the hospital bed.
Bruce: Dick, who do you want to patrol while you're in the hospital?
Dick: What's patrol?
Dick chuckles.
Dick: Patrol. Funny word hahaha
Jason raises his hand.
Jason Todd: I can be Nightwing again. I don't mind.
Tim: No.
Bruce: No.
Damien: I would've said to do it, but they won't listen.
Dick Grayson: No, no, not after last time.
Jason Todd: Oh God, the guy walked after a few months of physical therapy.
Dick Grayson: No! My sub will beeeeeeee... Eenie, miney...
Tim steps closer to Dick Grayson's hospital bed, ready to be picked.
Dick Grayson: Can you move my hand up, Tim?
Tim: Sure, to who, me?
Dick Grayson: No, that man! Batman!
Points to Batman!
Bruce Wayne: Really, me? Aww, Richard, you compliment me so well, but I couldn't.
Jason bursts into laughter: That's so stupid! He thinks you can be the Nightwing hahahahaha! He really is loopy!
Tim chuckles.
Damian covers his mouth, so his father won't see his smile.
Dick is distracted by Tim's hand and counting the digits.
Bruce Wayne: You know what, I will do it! I will prove you all wrong!
Bruce Wayne storms out.
Tim: Wait, Bruce we were joking! The guy is hopped on pain medicine, he doesn't know what's going on!
Tim runs after Bruce. Damian follows him.
Jason walks to his brother.
Jason: Well, kiddo, you got a replacement. This is going to be great... For laughs, but great.
Dick Grayson: Thanks flying spaghetti monster. I sleep now.
Dick Grayson falls asleep. Jason pats his head and then dials a number.
Jason Todd: Roy, you won't believe this!
A few hours later after the morphine has worn off and Dick wakes up from his nap. He calls Barbara.
Dick Grayson: Oh God, please tell me that when I picked Bruce to be Nightwing that was a dream.
Barbara: Nope.
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Okay but I'm so glad they adapted possibly my favorite scene from all of the comics, which I wasn't surprised about but was still grateful for. By which I mean, the scene where Nick communicates that he's not ready for sex and even after they agree on wanting to but not being ready, Charlie tells him he'd only want to have sex if Nick did and would never want to do it if Nick never wanted to. Even while knowing he wants to have sex with Nick one day, he won't hesitate to give up that idea if it's not mutually desired, because it's about intimacy with Nick and not sex for the sake of itself.
The first time I read that scene in the comics, my ace heart sang. It's one of those moments where Alice Oseman being aroace really shines through, because for allos sex is just a given and the lack thereof would beba deal breaker. I'm not saying someone would be wrong for wanting sex in a monogamous relationship, but it feels refreshing and safe to me as an ace person to see two people who feel the attraction but still prioritize each other and their relationship and normalize the presence of sex as a discussion and not an assumption.
This sort of thing is exactly why I desperately want more romance written by aspec people across the spectrum.
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lunatic-pudge · 5 months
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Mercs Being Jealous
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(Requested by menenthusiast900069)
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Aight, so let's make a quick list of most to least jealous, just so you get an idea of my very bias beliefs, I am semi willing to debate this.
1.) Sniper
2.) Demo
3.) Scout
4.) Medic
5.) Pyro
6.) Soldier
7.) Engie
8.) Spy
9.) Heavy
Now, onto the headcanons!
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Scout:
-Such a jealous baby, he can't help it
-A lot of it comes from his insecurities and also being the youngest of eight. He's used to being "the runt" of the group, even with the mercs. So he feels like he has to compete with them for your affection, even if you two are dating
-Like, someone could stand just a little too close to you and he's already starting the side eyes
-Scout, chill, for real for real
-He will attach himself to you once the jealousy kicks in. Arms wrapped around you, nuzzling up against you, it's that inner dog in him
-He will get mouthy with whoever is causing the jealousy. Talks a lot of smack for someone who is built like a damn twig. So it goes from him loving on you, to you having to prevent a fight from happening. Yes, depending on who it is, he can win the fight, he's a mercenary afterall. But when it comes to guys who have a big build like Heavy, then you'll really need to stop him
Soldier:
-Isn't really the jealous type, surprisingly. I think it comes from an oblivious stand point. Like, you need to point it out that someone's flirting with you for him to get even an increment of jealousy
-He really feels like he has nothing to worry about (which he's right). He's more than confident that you're loyal to him cause he is with you
-I feel like when you do say someone is flirting with you, he isn't gonna be violent, moreso he will make a big name and shame thing out of it (he basically did that to Miss Pauling in the comics)
-Like, "Who do you think you are flirting with MY GIRL, maggot! You are a disgrace to this country! Now drop and give me 100!"
-But that don't mean he isn't ready to throw hands. Cause he will. Homie's down to break a few necks. But if you don't want him doing that then you're gonna have to remove him from the situation
Pyro:
-I feel like they're kinda like Solider is the more oblivious aspect, but not as much. Like, they can tell when someone's flirting with you, but whether they truly care or not is up for debate
-I don't really see Pyro as a violent type when jealous. Why waste their energy on someone so insignificant to them?
-If anything, Pyro will just resort to loving all over you, more than usual. All the while giving the offending person a death stare
-It's a very effective form of intimidation
-Cause think about it, are you gonna want to fight a person wearing a flame proof suit, that isn't speaking, and is just giving you the thousand yard stare? No, you wouldn't
Demoman:
-Poor baby can be quite insecure. I feel so bad for him
-Constantly worries about not being good enough. He's so used to being beat down by the people around him that he doesn't have good self-esteem
-He will stand nearby you, waiting for you to notice him, looking like a sad and lost puppy
-Once you finally notice him, you'll have to pry him open to find out what's wrong. He doesn't like burdening you with his problems so he tends to sit and stew about everything til he bursts
-He will need to to reassure him that you aren't going anywhere and that you love him. He needs a lot of verbal reassuring cause he's a worrying lad
Heavy:
-Heavy? Jealous? Where?
-While Scout, Demo, and Sniper might be the top three most jealous, Heavy, Engie, and Spy are the least jealous
-Heavy is this big, strong bear, why would you ever wanna settle for less? Like, frfr, you'd have to have an IQ less than an orange to stoop to such lengths
-But let's play along and say that he did get jealous. One of those very rare times it happens. He knows he doesn't have to do much to make the offender leave, all he has to do is stand there
-And stare.
-And stare..
-And stare...
-He's got that resting angry face so he just has to stand behind you and exist to make people leave you alone. It's kinda funny to think about it. He'll gently take your hand and leave after that
-Why be around people when you two can be locked away in a quite room with a good book?
Engineer:
-Again, not a jealous person. But he does have his moments sometimes
-He's a confident boy and knows you wouldn't do anything. Plus have you seen him? He's an intelligent man, got such a nice voice and accent, and can build a machine to keep you safe
-When he jealous, he's passive aggressive. He doesn't like to be hostile, especially so up front, so he'll do little things to help get his point across
(Would give examples but I'm not passive agressive, I'm just aggressive, oops)
-He'd come up to you, slide an arm around you, give you a kiss on the cheek, and say how he was looking for ya while side eyeing the offender
-THAT MAN COULD USE HIS VOICE TO SEDUCE YOU ALL OVER AGAIN, FIGHT ME
-Weirdly enough, I can see him as someone who will look into the offender, find all the person's info and hand it over to Medic, basically saying "Here's someone you can harvest organs from. Have fun, Pookie."
-Then Medic and Engie proceed to make out and get married. The end
Medic:
-Medic's an interesting fellow. I feel like he's like Pyro where it all depends on his mood. Somdays, he doesn't give a shit, and other days, HE'S FUMING
-He will NOT tolerate the disrespect  >:(
-Cue sassy Medic. This man will verbally murder a bitch and I'm here for it
-Will get "handsy" with you (he'll just throw himself on top of you, maybe even make you hold him bridal style if you're strong enough)
-Will be loving all over you while verbally berating the offender. Everything is getting called out. EVERYTHING. He wants to ensure his point is made
-Buuuut, this can also be a chance to score some fresh, new organs. He's always in the market for that stuff so he can easily kidnap the offender and harvest the goods. And no, you can't talk him out of it. Once his mind is made up, nothing can stop him
Sniper:
-Oh my poor baby boy. Where do I even begin with you?
-Sniper can't help but get so jealous so easily. He's never been one to have relationships with people so when he is in one, he gets so insecure at times
-Worries he's not good enough at times. He know he's a "quirky" individual, so he worries you'll want to be with someone who's more "normal"
-Will stand nearby, giving the offender dirty looks. They can feel the daggers that Sniper is giving them, it's enough to make them leave
-Afterwards, he'll pull you away from everyone and be all over you
-While Demo needs verbal reassurance, Sniper needs physical reassurance. So please love on him and tell him it's gonna be okay and that you love him and only him
-But I can also see him needing to prove that he's better than any guy through "fun" means (Medic would too but I forgot to add it. They both horny jealous people)
Spy:
-Again, not a jealous person, and rightfully so
-We all know how suave this man is. He can pull anyone and everyone without even trying
-But I'm sure even Spy has his own moments when he feels a slight bit of jealousy
- He'd be so pissy with the offender. Like, fuck you, pal. That's MY partner
-Welp, time to go over there and seduce you all over again, which isn't hard for him to do. He's got that magic in him, ya know? He;s a man who knows what words to say and what moves to make. He'd make the offender jealous that they couldn't be with Spy
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welldrawnfish · 10 months
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So these last few days has been.. Turbulent. DIFFERENT
I think I may be a System? Infact I KNOW I am a system at this point, but Im also not ready to accept that. Well a part of me isnt, and the other parts of me are like… uh duh of course you are. 
*A system in this context refers to the collective consciousness under the DID / OSDD Umbrella, I dont know the correct terminology in all of this, so im so sorry If i I mess up. I don’t necessarily want to give myself a label, there's .. brain scans and stuff I can get to prove it. And I need those, thats the only way I know this is real. But for now, for my own mental health I am treating it as if it were.. “real “ And I dont really know… what to expect…? I want to find something, ANYTHING, on I guess.. Systems waking up? But I cant find it. So I’ll just do this here Im gonna dump out all our thoughts onto some comic pages and we will figure it out.  I had a bit of an awakening roughly.. 5 days ago, and for the sake of convenience gonna use Plural/System terminology - There are alters, I have met them, the have names and personalities and some of them are really fuckin annoying i just want to punch him in his TEETH
Anyways, since the alter awakening moment, my brain has been in TURMOIL parts of me accept this, parts of me dont, i keep feeling like my face is like shifted 2 inches to the right and everything gets fuzzy in the real world. Not that these alters have names like.. Files are getting sorted  into these proper figures and everything is getting explained and figured out. And its making me feel like I'm not me anymore?
Like I always would argue and barter and fight with my own thoughts, but that's the thing, they wer thoughts, voices in my head with just like, distinct personalities. I just saw it as a different part of me?? Figured that was normal.
But now they are.. stronger ? OR maybe because i'm more aware of them and the personalities I can tell whos out now and like.. Obviously they are happy to get some facetime with the world properly?? But like.. Am *I* just aware of it, aware of them now, aware that it is not just *I* but *We* and so noticing it more, I'm resisting even harder? We feel more fractured than ever.
I have a good friend helping me out, another system, I owe them everything, maybe my life. (PLEASE FOLLOW @transpanda-1 BTW THEY DESERVE IT) They had a few amazing tips, but I cant keep bugging them about every anxiety on my mind thats not fair, so I’ll ask the whole community.
I guess what I want to know is.. Like is this normal? Do all systems go through this? What should I expect in the future and how do I make this more streamlined and stop.. Fighting it? I guess?
I thought I finally had myself figured out, just be the girl who makes the funny relatable trans comics… it was simple.
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jayke0 · 6 months
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A Pleasant Surprise
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Pairing: Steven Grant x fem reader
Summary: Steven has had something on his mind for a while now, and finally he divulges his fantasy to you; degrading was certainly not on your playing cards.
Rating: nsfw, smut
Warnings/Content: sub!Steven, dom!reader, “mommy” title, degrading, grinding, cumming in pants, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).
Word count: 1,441
Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.
………......................…………………………………….
When Steven had come to you with a “fun idea”, you'd expected something along the lines of ”naive uni teacher gets fucked by his student”, but this was so much better.
“Love? I have a, uh…suggestion,” Steven calls from the bathroom between brushing his teeth. “Well, it's more of a proposal, really.”
“Yeah? Go on.” You're sitting in your bedroom reading some gruesome crime novel that Marc seems to have a real distaste for.
You hear the water running briefly before your boyfriend joins you in the room, warm morning sun streaming in through the cracked curtains and casting a soft glow over his face. “I mean, we don't have to do it now of course. I know you're reading and all that, and I have to get to work in a bit–.”
You close your book and pat the edge of the bed, making him instantly respond to your gesture by placing himself down. “I'm all ears, sweetheart, lay it on me.”
Blood rushes to Steven's face as he actually thinks about saying it outloud, feet shuffling a little on the creaky floorboards. The words feel stuck in his throat now that he has to speak them, despite the fact he'd thought about the whole image on numerous occasions... and in great detail.
“Heeyy c’mon,” your hand brushes his arm, and you move closer to him to wrap your arms fully around his, crinkling his blue floral shirt. “You know I can't read your mind, Steven… Though I wish I could, that'd be super fucking helpful, then the other two couldn't lie to me.”
His chuckle makes you smile and you feel him draw in a long breath.
”I wanna like… grind against you… and I want you to mock me for it, u-until I cum… in my trousers…”
The pauses between his words are almost comical, but you look up at his face and see that he's completely serious, looking at you with wide eyes and waiting for an answer.
“Oh! Right.”
“Ah, Gods! No no... no no no no no, forget it–.” He frantically shakes his head, his hands doing the same as his face scrunches. “It's weird, I'm sorry, pretend I never said anything. Me and my big bloody mouth.”
“Steven,” you say between giggles, hand resting on his soft face to pull his gaze towards you. “It's not weird, silly! I just didn't expect you to be the one that's into degrading.” Careful not to fall back off of the bed, you climb onto his lap, thighs either side of his as you examine his expression, how gorgeous he looks with his brows knitted together and his unruly curls that Marc would definitely be gluing down with copious amounts of gel right about now.
His chest deflates as he lets out a soft sigh, resting his head on your chest out of embarrassment while you link your arms around his neck to run your fingers through the long curls at the back of his head. You feel his hands graze up your back, gliding under your night shirt and making you shiver with the warmth.
“Are you sniffing me?”
“No! Well…” he pauses, “yeah, but not in a creepy way.” The man lifts his head and looks up at you with those big doe eyes, and you watch them close as you start rolling your hips down on him slowly. You're only in your underwear underneath that shirt, but Steven is fully clothed and ready for work… or at least he would be, if his eyes weren't fluttering shut and arousal wasn't growing in his tummy.
“I promise you, darling, I like your idea.” You reassure him with your hips drawing slow circles against the material of his trousers, creating a delicious friction. “As long as you tell me if it's too much, alright?”
The bed creaks a little with your grinding before he looks up at you, nodding with a kind of desperation in his eyes that lights a fire in your gut.
“You promise?”
“Yeah love, yeah I promise.” He says, his voice a little more whiny.
You don't bother yourself with working out the psychological reasons for why your boyfriend enjoys being degraded about how long he can last, chalking it up to his masculinity, despite your reassurances that he's just as much of a man as his other two alters.
“You've got 10 minutes, think you can do that?”
Steven groans at your question, since both of you know all too well that 10 minutes is more than enough time. Still, he nods, big puppy dog eyes looking up at you and begging you to divulge in his vision.
A smirk creeps across your face when you see those glassy eyes, your gaze trailing down to the blush dusting his cheeks and the straining muscles in his neck.
“God Steven, I love the way you look at me. Look at those big soft eyes, all for mommy, aren't they?”
He lets out a whimper with the use of that title, his cock stirring in his trousers and reminding you of the thin barrier that's stopping you from grinding on the rough material of his slacks all together. The man doesn't take his gaze off of you; he drinks in every one of your features as if he's seeing you for the first time.
Rocking his hips up, he pants.
“Yes mommy, all for you, I'm all for you.”
“That's right, sweetheart, those desperate eyes are for me. that dumb little face is mine.” You lean forward and nip his bottom lip, soothing it afterwards with your tongue as he gasps and bucks his hips.
“I can feel you twitching, baby. You just can't help it, can you? Always getting so worked up and hard when I'm around, maybe I should put this pretty cock in a cage, what do you think?”
Steven's shoulders drop as he leans forward into your neck, biting and sucking any skin he can get his mouth on while his hot breath and whimpers raise goosebumps over your skin.
The suction he had in your neck is broken as his head is suddenly jerked backwards, your grip tight in his hair and making him whimper pathetically.
“I asked you a question, sweetheart.”
His adam's apple bobs in his throat as he tries to suppress his moans, his head nodding wildly. “Yes mommy, I'd– agh–I'd love that.” His hips buck again.
“Mhm.. then you'd at least last longer than 5 minutes, you'd actually be able to fuck me properly.”
Steven's mouth hangs agape, his eyes now squeezed shut as his grip on your hips tighten and he guides your hips down on him harder, wanting more, anything.
“Sh–it… Ah- Feels so good.” His eyebrows knit together in a beautifully strained way. “More, gimme more–.”
You tut with a small smirk on your lips, rocking back and forth to coat his trousers in your own arousal that's seeped through your underwear.
“Oh, look at you, you gonna cum in your pants, baby? Gonna prove how pathetic you are to mommy?” You feel the muscles in his shoulders and back tighten. “C'mon sweetheart, cum for me, ruin those pants.”
Sweet moans and whimpers tumble from the man's rosy lips as he finally lets go, staining his boxers enough that you feel the wetness as it soaks a spot on his trouser leg.
His grip on your hips loosens, but he doesn't stop whimpering, soft babbles and huffs escaping his throat as he calms down. You stroke his head, combing your fingers through his hair as your hips slow. “Good boy, you're such a good boy, Steven.” You smile brightly at him, despite the fact his eyes are still shut.
They only flutter open when he feels your hand stroking his cheek and tilting his head down.
“Are you ok, baby? How do you feel?”
His cheeks are flushed bright red still, beads of sweat sitting on his forehead from the warmth of his button-up shirt. A smile cracks across his face as he nods shyly, “I'm ok– great, yeah.. I'm great, actually.”
“You sure? I didn't hurt your feelings, did I?”
He shakes his head and tilts face to kiss your palm. “No, you didn't, love. I promise.”
His eyes drift down to the wet patch on his trousers, your eyes following as you chuckle softly.
“Should probably change…” He mumbles while resting his head on your shoulder.
“Yeah, that's probably a good idea.” You place a kiss on his neck as you embrace him, ignoring the fact that he will most definitely be late to work… again.
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Tags 🖤: @boredzillenial @cowboymarcs @chichimisaki @faretheeoscar @fanofstuffidk @minigirl87 @marisferasiop @red-hydra @summonthesoups @steven-grants-world @queerponcho @ominoose @mynamesstevenwithav @rinverse @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mooksmouse @cupidysm
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m0nsterqzzz · 6 months
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Something Stupid
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pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader
summary: and then she goes and spoils it all by saying something stupid like...."I love you."
content: absolute teeth rotting fluff. pining for each other but wandas is much more intense? tiniest bit of blackhill if you squint.
a/n: had this idea for a while, and I actually kinda like it??? idk. first time for everything. reader is referred to as "sweets" like twice just because I love the nickname. it's what my boyfriend calls me. anyway. love yall!!
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Wanda Maximoff loves you.
She’s known that for years.
She’s known it since she first became an avenger and felt a strange urge to gain your forgiveness over everyone else's after what her and her late-brother Pietro did during the battle against Ultron.
She knew it when you became her best friend, teaching her how to control her magic and really just how to enjoy life.
She knew it when she had to watch as you got ready for dates with people that would never live up to your standards. Not she thought she would live up to your standards- no, she knew she couldn't- but she did know she treat you better then any of those no good pigs who are just looking for a fuck buddy ever good. The witch wouldn’t go up against your suitors though, just standing on the sidelines as her heart slowly breaks faster and faster the more you don’t see her in the same light you do them.
Little she did she know, she was the only one you truly wanted.
So finally, Wanda worked up the courage to ask you out so she no longer had to cry into her pillow while you were out sucking face with someone else.
Surprisingly, you agreed easily. The only thing you had to say was that she had to promise it wouldn’t change anything between you guys for the worse. If it didn’t work, you guys couldn’t become like Natasha and Maria. (those girls can’t be in the same room as each other for more than 2 seconds without making a backhanded comment about their four week long situationship)
The Maximoff girl agreed, eagerly setting up a dinner date.
It had quickly gone wrong.
The reservation was somehow not in the book despite the fact that Wanda called the fancy dinner place with insane prices about six times in the hour-long drive there. So you told her it was fine, that you’d be happy with some food from the delicious Thai place down the road as long as you were with her. But they were out of your favorite and Wanda ate so much that she felt ready to barf as you guys walked out of the restaurant- that was before she actually did barf in the parking lot. 
Finally, you guys headed to a bar near the Avengers tower for a quick nightcap, but that quickly turned into you both downing two drinks each before stumbling onto the dance floor.
A sweet looking old man who’s been reading a comic book in the corner sees you two and decides to put his own change in the jukebox and press play on a slow, but peaceful song. He sends you guys a smile, winking Wanda's way before he continues to read about some cool looking superheroes.
Wanda’s hands fall to your waist, gently gripping them as you both sway. Your head falls to lay on her shoulder, arms wrapped around the back of her neck as the music fills your ears. Her breath is on the back of your neck, warm, but it doesn’t even begin to compare to the feeling of her lips as she places a gentle kiss in that same spot. 
Then she goes and spoils it all by saying something stupid like, “I love you, sweets.”
You roll your eyes, thinking back to how many times people have told you that during first dates just to get in your pants. Though you will admit that when you hear Wanda say it, it brings a small, warm, fluttering feeling to your chest, and you manage to let out a small giggle before you say, “No you don't. You don’t love me Wanda. You like me. There’s a difference.”
She fights the urge to tell you that she knows there is a difference between love and like. She knows that because she’s felt both those ways towards you. Why can’t you just understand that so she doesn’t have to find a way to put it into words?
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After a few days of her saying the same thing and you never believing her, the witch realizes she has to put it in words. Nothing else is capable of explaining how she feels about you. How she’s felt for so long.
So she recruits Natasha and Clint for help, and they spend the day working on some speeches. By 2pm, she has this;
“Are you from Tennessee? Cuz you’re the only ten-I-see.” - A line from Natasha which she used on Maria who was passing by at that moment just to prove to Wanda it works. (Natasha left and was found leaving the agents room an hour later. Apparently that’s back on)
“I love you.” - Clint Barton, the stupidest man on earth. There is a reason people call him bird brain. They were there because the three words are not enough to describe what she feels towards you. Did he even read what was on the brunch invitation? It clearly stated; “fixing Wanda's love life; no I love you’s, no magic town in which she controls so she can make Sweets fall in love with her against their will.”
“Hey, do you have wifi? Cuz I’m really feeling a connection.” - Natasha. She once again used it on Maria and was gone for another two hours. Can someone please address this?
“Start listing facts about the baby turtles you saved. Always gets the ladies.” - from Tony, who was walking by the living room and decided now was the best time to interrupt. He has never once gotten close enough to endangered animals to be able to ‘save’ them, but we can pretend if he wants too.
“Are you a beaver? Cuz dam.” - Natasha. (someone needs to restrain Maria from jumping the redheads bones. She is literally needed at this meeting.)
So, as we can see, no one is any help. 
She decides after that to just go with her gut, and her gut is telling her that you’ll know when the time is right, and hopefully will send her a sign.
Maybe the sign is sooner rather than later.
The witch spends about an hour in her bedroom in front of her mirror, trying on every outfit from sweats and a t-shirt to the 10,000 dollar dress Tony bought her for her birthday. Which clothes would draw your attention to her? She thinks about that alot, which is why she wears different outfits everyday simply in hopes of you sending her a small compliment. She always spends countless amounts of time planning the perfect outfit just to hear you say, “You look pretty Wans.”
Why is this happening to her?
It’s when she sets up a cute little picnic under the stars with all your favorite foods and snacks and a makeshift tv screen with a projector to watch your favorite film do you realize that you are deeply and utterly in love with Wanda Maximoff.
She’s sweet, and pretty. She can always make you laugh when you truly think you no longer can.
And besides all that, she’s your best friend. The one that will stick with you through thick and thin simply because she wants to be beside you.
You can’t help but feel your cheeks beginning to heat up every single time she even glances in your direction, let alone actually speak to you. You can feel your stomach flutter with a mix of excitement and nerves as she just… exists.
You don’t tell her that though, afraid of getting your feelings hurt.
You just sit down on the nice thick blanket with her, grabbing some grapes to give a few to her and a few to herself as she presses play on the movie. It’s silent other than the sound of the movie, but she can hear your thoughts louder than any film. It’s not like she’s trying to read your mind. The witch vowed to herself to never use her magic on you unless it was necessary or life saving. That includes mind reading. Your thoughts are too loud though, and even with the amount of control she has over her powers, they still fill her head as she tries to focus on the movie.
“I love her.”
“She says she loves you.”
“She doesn’t mean it.”
“Yes she does.”
“No she doesn’t.”
“It doesn’t matter. I love her.”
Your internal battle on if she truly does love you or not breaks her heart into a million pieces, though she doesn’t want to call you out on it and make you feel uncomfortable. So you guys continue silently watching the movie. She doesn’t mention your loud thoughts, and you don’t mention that you can feel her eyes burning into the side of your face as she stares.
When the movie is over and the projector turns off, you guys sit in the darkness of the night. There are stars dressing the night sky, so you silently look at them as Wanda turns on her side so she can gently pull you closer to her. 
The moment is perfect; looking up at the stars in each other's warm embrace, your back pressed against her front and she moves around until she snuggles her head into the crook of your neck, so close to you that your perfume fills her senses and puts her into a peaceful bliss. Your truly happy as is she, and this time, as she says the tree words, you find yourself believing her;
“I love you.”
She doesn’t regret it or cringe out of embarrassment when she says it like she did last time. The witch just lets the words hang in the air. If you choose to say them back, you do. If not, at least you'll understand how much she truly means it.
“I love you.” You whisper back with new found confidence, and her chest fills with warmth and pure happiness. You finally believe her. Her words sounded so sincere and simple, not like the drunk words she said a few days ago. It’s the only reason you feel okay telling her the truth. You love Wanda Maximoff.
“I love you.” She mumbles, leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek.
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
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darthannie · 8 months
Text
like real people do
pairing: Astarion x reader
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word count: 788 warnings: fluff, kissing, cuddling a/n: For my first Astarion fic I really wanted to explore what other type of intimacy he could receive because dear god I just want him to feel loved and cared for. And that can happen through sex, but I didn’t want to include that in this one. 
You were sore and wanted nothing more than a warm, relaxing bath. You’d come by an inn where you and your traveling companions could have a proper rest and a proper bath. However, you hadn’t expected to find Astarion sitting in the very bath you had your sights set on.
You immediately shielded your eyes with a sharp gasp, as if there was a need for modesty. As if you and Astarion hadn’t shared many nights together, exploring each other and all your capabilities.
“Oh come on, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” he said with a grin. You sighed and smiled, removing your hand from in front of your eyes. “Need something?”, he asked. He looked gorgeous. His skin glowed. The tips of his hair were wet from the steamy bath. He seemed relaxed. 
You took him in as you responded, “Yes, I just… I thought the room was empty and I wanted to take a bath.”
He lifted his arm with a flourish, “Well, don’t let me stop you.”
Your weight shifted from one side to the other as you said, “You quite literally are stopping me.”
“Come on, there’s more than enough room for two. Don’t get shy on me now.”
You stood there for a moment, deep in thought until you relented. 
You walked towards the tub and you removed your shirt, pants, and undergarments. Astarion’s eyes followed your movements as you got into the tub. “See, that wasn’t so hard.” 
He could sense your hesitation. “Darling, relax. It’s just me.” He reached out for your hand and you laid it in his. He smiled at you before he decided he wanted more.
He propped himself up onto his knees and settled himself over you. He braced himself on the side of the tub while he grabbed your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. He gave you a chaste kiss. He was unsure what a kiss would lead to at this moment, but he figured he’d rather find out.
He kissed you again, this time deeply. Lovingly. Your arm hooked over his shoulder and pulled him in closer. Your mouth opened slightly and you felt his tongue on your bottom lip. You opened your mouth wider to let him in. The kiss turned sloppy before you pulled away. You suspected that if you didn’t stop then one thing would lead to another, and you didn’t just want to fulfill some expectation. You didn’t want it to go that way. You loved it when Astarion was passionate, but you didn’t always want that type of intimacy. And if he was honest with himself, neither did he. 
He cleared his throat as he started moving toward his side of the tub. The air was thick with steam and apprehension. “Wait,” you said, speaking before you were ready to. He froze. 
“Can we try something different?”
“Oh, darling, I like the sound of that.” His all too familiar sultry tone took over. 
“Come here.” You matched his energy.
“What for?” Thrown off by your command, he became cautious, unsure what he was in for. 
“Just trust me.” Trust. It was something he had been working on. This was one of those moments where he thought he could practice it. He looked at you, quizzically. 
“Alright, fine.” He got back up as if to kiss you but you put your hand on his chest. 
“No, face away from me and come close.” You smiled at him and his eyebrows furrowed. He sat back down and moved towards you until his back was against your chest. You wrapped your arms around him and he let out an almost comical sigh of relief. 
“This is… nice.” 
You held him as close as you could to your own body. You could feel the scars on his back. You thought about all that Astarion had told you and your mind turned to your own past. He interlaced his fingers with yours under the water. You squeezed his hand as the thoughts started to take over. He squeezed your hand. Focusing on his presence brought you back. 
His voice soothed you, “I like this,” he laid his head on your shoulder to face you, “I like us.”
“I like us, too.” You kissed his forehead. He hummed contently and kissed your cheek.
His head laid on your shoulder and you saw the bite marks on his neck. You felt so protective of him. So in love with him. You wanted to shield him from the world. You closed your eyes tight, promising to yourself, and him, that one day you could both live in peace. But until then, you were safe and he was in your arms til the water turned cold. 
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vlrspace · 6 months
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there was never a time where the atmosphere was this thick with tension, gojo thinks, never with you at least.
his slender fingers dug tightly into the leather covered wheel, white brows meeting in the middle of his forehead as his cerulean eyes focus on the road ahead. how comical, of course it’s raining outside, accompanied with purple and white strikes appearing across the sky.
gojo gazes at you from the corner of his eyes, he’s desperately trying to ignore the churn of his heart at the sight of you. soft arms wrapped around your frame, fully embracing yourself and seeking comfort in a pair of arms that aren’t his. streaks of maskara coating the red apples of your cheeks, as you lean your head against the window.
he can’t decide what’s worse; the fact that you haven’t even spoke, let alone look at him ever since you two left or that he can’t find anyone else to blame, but himself.
truly, he hadn’t known about the invitation of his ex girlfriend by his parents. a vicious move on their end, just to taunt you with the thought that gojo could always do better than you.
his ex, who is a true golden girl, the definition of a perfect woman every parent desire their children to be with. however, she was far from the ideal partner, with her cunning and self absorbed nature. sure, she’s beautiful and comes from a wealthy family, like gojo, but she only ever cared about putting up a good show for the world. everything with her were non existent, unlike with you.
gojo is aware of how, unfortunately, his parents aren’t particularly fond of you and frankly, he doesn’t care.
the familiar silhouette of your home is visible in the distance and the white haired male tries to calm down his thoughts, to centralise them about making you stay with him. gojo thinks that it’s ridiculous how tied to you he really feels, how dependent he is on you and in such short time as well. six months were enough to make him obsessed with you, it’s utterly pathetic.
the buzzing of the engine comes to a stop and you get yourself ready to exit the car, but gojo locks the car before you even could reach the handle. the action makes you turn towards him, confused and nervous as you wait for him to talk.
“i’m so sorry” his sentence comes out shaky and breathless, his body wholly facing you, blue gaze never wavering away from yours. “i’m so fucking sorry” his shoulders are shaking, pools of tears leaking from the corner of his eyes.
with quiet sobs, he reaches for you, his hands carefully placing themselves on your waist, softly cradling you closer to him. the action makes your eyes widen, you’ve never seen gojo so vulnerable before. he threw his tie on the backseat the second you two entered the vehicle, along with his suit and his button up is halfway undone.
“you deserve so much better” his words are barely audible between the hiccups, his forehead gently pressing against yours as a hand comes up to wipe your tears away. “so much better than me”
gojo blames himself for the way his parents treated you at the dinner party, you realise, belittling you and throwing snarky remarks in front of everyone when his ex arrived. even though gojo stood up for you and got into an argument with his family, those words still hurt you.
“but i don’t ever want to let you go, you’re my everything. i didn’t know what home felt like till i met you, what love really was. i don’t have to pretend to be someone else when i’m with you and you make me feel whole” the desperation of his voice makes your heart break, you can feel his hold on you a little unsteady. “it’s you that i want, you make feel a better man and i love you so much it makes my heart hurt” he stutters out, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips, before pulling away from you.
“i don’t care what they think, i belong with you” your breath hitches in your throat as his words hit you with full force. not only that, but there is no hesitation in his voice and his face is full of seriousness.
“satoru..” you whisper out finally and reach for your seatbelt. swiftly unlocking it, you throw yourself at him, lips pressing against each other feverishly.
your hands curl around his neck, fingers disappearing in his white hair and you feel him wrap around your waist and move you into his lap. gojo’s tongue pushes into your mouth, salvaging every inch he touches. one of his hands cradles your cheek, thumb gently stroking your soft skin and you feel his other hand slowly moving you against him.
you’re the first one to pull away, just barely a few inches between you, gojo’s hips thrusting upwards to meet yours in the middle. both of your breaths are heavy and the atmosphere is now filled with a different type of tension. the sound of rain sounds distant, you can’t seem to care about the on going storm outside anymore. all you care about is gojo, the love of your life.
“i love you so much” your words are whispered against his lips as he leans up to capture yours in a kiss again.
if gojo wasn’t so occupied with you right now, he would laugh at his parents’ poor attempt to break you two apart. he knows his parent finally realised, how much you mean to him and the growing fear within them taken over.
satoru would do anything for you, even if it meant abandoning the great gojo empire just to be with you.
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@/vrlspace, 2024
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hazshit-hotel-hater · 27 days
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“Excuse me sir! There must someone you’ve confused me for!”
Having Angel withdrawal again sorry guys :/ its time for some uhh… prologue stuff?? I think thats right. Anyway! As I mentioned in this lovely post, when sinners die the time it takes for them to wake up in hell and where they wake up depends on how they died. So for Angels case his body was formed in hell in a hospital bed cause thats where he died so theres like fibres and metal in his body from being formed around a hospital bed! This is also going to go into how regenerating and how injuries work so get ready! Basically whatever your body was originally formed and made out of regenerates eventually, you can have scars if theyre really big (uncommon since the injury usually kills you) but if you die again in hell they go away. Angel gets injured quite a lot and none of these injuries are permanent. That isn’t to say you can heal by killing yourself though! If you do die while injured there may actually be lasting complications since bodies in hell are typically made to regenerate while gravely wounded. Its kind of like a fucked up computer so if you have a broken leg and die by say snapping your neck the body may get confused and regenerate bones and such incorrectly. Or it may not! Its hell who knows! Ill likely figure out a more concrete plan and way that it works but at the moment I enjoy this aspect of hell to not have a random cheat code and instead include some body horror. Its hell so like some stuff is probably confusing right??
Back to Angel, later on around season 1 in the rewrite he also has throat surgery to remove his deformed inner fangs and those DO actually stay gone because certain hospitals in hell (usually expensive ones) have tools from sloth that have been permitted by Lucifer. Similar to how Stolas got that lust portal gem or whatever. Angels body wasn’t supposed to form like that and this is a common thing to happen with sinners that die “long-term” and that sounds confusing but it really just means sinners that die in comatose-esque ways like Angel. His body was dying over the course of months (December to March to be exact) so parts of his body formed over complicated or were underdeveloped like the aforementioned fangs (that were originally meant to form inside of his mouth and not his throat) that would randomly bare themselves and stab his own throat, paralyzing Angel temporarily. Other examples would be parts of his legs and smaller stomach.
This is the surgery Angel got by the way (expenses covered by Velvette but thats a whole other plot line)
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On top of this I also wanted to draw Angel’s old markings (at least one of them). Prior to Valentino, Angel looked much similar marking-wise to his original comic designs where he was more purple and yellow with all the fun skulls and stripes. Though, with how contracts work in my rewrite, Angel loses the markings and they change into hearts after his contract and cannot return to normal after his contract is terminated. The same is true for Husker and Niffty. This whole piece is really just supposed to capture to horror of waking up after being comatose and you’re suddenly not yourself anymore and also not where you were for the past months and your entire anatomy is changed. Can you imagine waking up without bones??? In 1947??? Id have a breakdown personally!
I also wanted to use green for that sick gross feeling. Kind of the dread you feel before throwing up, but also to represent Angel’s later feelings of envy that I was unable to present in his design. I really like pink characters in green atmospheres if you can’t tell. If I think of more stuff to add to this post I will, but for now it’s just a lot of lore. Hopefully you all enjoy it!
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1-marigold-1 · 9 months
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An AU thingy that umm, please listen to my ramble I beg you :[
Hello!!! Had this AU in mind for a bit too long decided to dump it all here :] sorry if it's all a bit messy I'm bad at organising those stuff hghghgghg <-- delusional (explanation and story below the images)
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So:
I call it the FMN AU [Forget-Me-Not] and it's set in a fantasy world of course, in a great Empire of Heremitaran.
Because of how big the Empire is, it's divided in two, with two rulers: Ren The King of the North known for his bravery, plenty of victories, feared by those outside of his Empire , and the other one in the Sout is ... well... Mumbo.. (yes he's a king because his father died, he sucks at it tho, can't help but be that wet poor cat and not knowing what to do).
And that's when we come in with Grian and Scar.
There's a crown, to be specific, called the Vacivus Halo which is safely kept in Ren's vault , away from the rest of the world. It's the most powerful thing ever known, and Watchers are ready to fight for it against Listeners, who are worshipped by most of north people and Ren himself. The war those two spiecies of angel-gods started over a crown has been going for many centuries and now when Listeners has had it for themselves for so long, Watchers start to fear that they might use it against them to finally get rid of the enemy.
The crown has been under Watchers' control for some time too, that's when they tasked Mumbo's father with protecting it, but he died at war, crown got stolen, landed in Ren's hands and now all they got is Mumbo... They quickly realized that he's definetely not... well.. worthy? So they give the task of getting it back to an orphan living near the palace. He's a poor chicken keeper until he meets one of The Watchers disguised as a snake, asking him for help, the snake promises him everything he wants. So he agrees.
He gets powers such as:
Manipulating others' minds [putting images and memories that never existed before into anyone's head ]. It's his most powerful ability that he uses by just looking into their eyes, yet there's one thing about it: he can't make people forget the things he puts in their heads.
Flight, he has a cape that turns into wings when needed.
He can see what his snake sees whenever he wants, so he can use it to spy on people.
With those abilities he fools everyone at the palace into believing he's Mumbo's new guard and personal assasin, so he can be always close to the ruler who should be visiting the North very soon... he also makes friends with the young king, they get along pretty well.
Meanwhile Scar has a simmiliar story, though he was an assasin and Ren's guard before Listeners chose him. Ren is still in a good shape and probably will still be a good protector of the crown, but they felt like they need more than one If Watchers ever plan on getting the crown back, so they chose Scar by appearing to him as a cat, they wanted to tell him that they are ready to give him anything he wishes for but he was like "KITTY!!!!!!!! HELLO YOU SO CUTE!!" and agreed right away, just to have a scarf that turns into a cat...... he likes cats alright, he's been feeling pretty lonely recently too...
Scar's powers are:
Super speed [he got it with the boots]
Sensitive Hearing
Completely silent walking
He also got his cat [he named it Jellie because it's semi-transparent like a jelly when in not-scarf form lol] that can transform into a tiger like creature sometimes.
Yeah guess what.
They meet. Grian and Scar. They. Meet.
And they uhhh kinda make friends with eachother and don't really think that they might be enemies.
Watchers don't know that Scar is Listeners' servant, and the other way around, Listeners don't know that Grian is Watchers' servant.
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Things escalate from here...... and that's where the story starts!
I have plans on making short comics and stories to tell you the lore piece by piece, but be aware that updates won't be very often, I'll try tho!
ASK ABOUT ANYTHING I WILL ANSWER THE QUESTIONS
Also
Just wanted to add that I made this AU long time ago and Jellie is a fundamental thing in it, very important, as much as she was important to all of us, may she rest in peace <3
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spider-chris06 · 1 year
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Do you know why Spider-Verse Miles is my favorite Spider-Man?
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He, without having a choice, had to do in two days, what took all the other Spider-Sonas in the multiverse weeks, become Spider-Man, all under the unimaginable pressure of being the successor to the previous Spider-Man of his universe, which left the bar too high, having to meet everyone else's expectations, and having to go through a tortuous journey while learning from his mentor.
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Even when the spider-gang not only didn't trust him but even seemed to dislike Miles at first (Except, of course, Gwen and Peter B, who are very special cases)
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And pressing him to see if he was ready and treating him like just a kid (Even Peni).
All so that he then went to his uncle, who was like a second father to him and someone who truly understood Miles, only to find out that he had always been a hitman, going so far as to almost end with the life of his nephew, until he realizes what he was about to do and... well, tragedy happens.
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The death of Uncle Aaron, due to the depth and history behind it, remains the most tragic "death of Uncle Ben" in all of cinema... ever.
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Miles stopped being the same since then, and even when a hurricane of emotions possessed him, he learned that no matter what, Spider-Man always gets up and keeps going, at the same time he learned to take his leap of faith. Before becoming Spider-Man he had a normal and happy life, but after being bitten by that spider his whole life fell apart, but of course, Miles is someone truly strong and full of determination thanks to the people close to him.
In two days, he surpassed almost the entire Spider-gang, and in a year and a half he become almost a professional as Spider-Man, even giving lessons to everyone else, and making it clear to Gwen and the others what truly means being Spider-Man, not standing by crossed arms while someone is in danger, but trying to do everything you can to save everyone, doing both things, even when it seems impossible, Spider-Man should always try, because everything it's possible.
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At the same time that Miles felt stabbed in the back by the same people to whom he wanted to dedicate his entire future just to see them again since he felt alone and sad inside in the world without them, and, specially, without Gwen.
And let me remind something, Miles actually thinks she doesn't even love him and only sees him as a friend, but he still wants to see her
On the ATSV betrayal, he release all that hurricane of emotions that he had to swallow and accumulate inside during ITSV and during that entire year and a half for not having time for ALL those things said before, leading him to have anxiety and panic attacks (Something confirmed in the synopsis of the short "The Spider Within")
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All so that they later reveal to him that he was a mistake, an anomaly, that he should never have been Spider-Man, that he killed the Peter of his universe, causing everything that gave MEANING to his life fell down in just a few minutes, leaving Miles more traumatized, mortified and with more trust issues than he already had before.
He really became one of the most tragic character of all the saga (Along with Peter B and, put it in some way, Miguel O' Hara)
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And just because Miles looks with a cool and chill personality doesn't mean he's any less traumatized and mortified on the inside (An example is Andrew Garfield's Spider-Man).
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Even though in the comics that nickname is only used because that is what his universe is called, in the movies, on the other hand, even though there are people on the internet who deny the fact that he is currently becoming an unstoppable phenomenon that is marking an entire generation and will mark future generations, Miles Morales proved to be, without a doubt, the Ultimate Spider-Man.
As a bonus, even though she always screwed up with everyone around her, both the living and the dead, Gwen showed that she really loves Miles and that he truly is the love of her life, however, needless to say, she has a lot of work to do in her redemption arc to be able to fix things with Miles, which will be very difficult but not impossible, even more so taking into account all the hate she received for everything that happened in ATSV.
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Now she has to PROVE not only to him, but to all of us viewers, that she truly deserves to be with Miles, that they can have a life together by her own merit, and that all the hate towards her after the ATSV release it's truly unfair.
However, I have to be realistic, there are characters like Peni or even Peter B who should not be anything more than simple 'acquaintances' or 'partners' for Miles, since, with what they did, the term "Friend" It's too big for them.
In any case, Miles has the last word.
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roosterforme · 5 months
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Covering the Classics Part 9 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: After Anna joins him for dinner, Bob knows he needs to accept that they really are just friends. Even though her kisses are perfection. Even though he's falling in love. But what's going to stop Anna when she realizes Bob's poems are very familiar to her?
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, Bob in gray sweatpants, eventually 18+
Length: 5700 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)
Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!
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Bob couldn't imagine a world in which he'd go to this much trouble to make the perfect dinner for a woman who he was falling in love with, only to hear her say the words just friends. But apparently it was the world he was living in, because he spent days comparing recipes from both Bradley and Jake, hoping to make something that Anna would find irresistible.
"You should make my lasagna," Jake said for the tenth time at work on Friday morning.
Bradley snorted. "Great idea, as long as you never want to see her again. Make my homemade pasta," he told Bob. "I already gave you the recipe."
Bob just kept nodding and agreeing with whatever they said, hoping they'd eventually be quiet. Anna was coming over tonight, and he still didn't have a solid plan in mind beyond trying to convince her he'd be worth her time. That it was okay to be more than friends.
While the guys argued, Bob got himself ready to get in the air with Phoenix. He must have looked flustered, because she rubbed her thumb gently across the back of his hand when he stood next to her in the hangar. "You seem nervous. Are you still trying to figure out what to make for dinner?"
"Yeah," he replied quietly.
"Oh, Bob. She's not going to care what you make. It could be a grilled cheese sandwich."
"I always burn those," he said with a small smile. "I just feel like this is pointless. I invited her over anyway even though I know she just wants to be friends, but I'm still standing here hoping for more. I shouldn't be doing this, even if we did makeout in her office."
Nat sighed and asked, "Do you want my grandma's recipe for bruschetta chicken? You liked it when you tried it at her house last summer, and it's not that hard to make."
His eyes lit up. "Please." 
He'd only have a little bit of time to himself to prepare the meal and cook it before Anna came over, and he listened as Nat called her grandma and asked her to send it over. Before they were even called out of the hangar to start the day, he had a photo of the handwritten recipe in his phone.
"Nat, you're a lifesaver."
"Just save me some of the leftovers."
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Friday was going so well for Anna, she almost forgot to be nervous about dinner. She met with the dean to discuss how her classes were going, and he even brought up the word tenure which sent her into a giddy spiral where she treated herself to a candy bar from the vending machine which she couldn't really afford. She carried it out to eat lunch in the quad with her friends along with her regular, uninspired sandwich and ginger ale.
She hadn't mentioned a word about going to Bob's house for dinner, but she was absolutely certain both ladies knew about it. She almost found it comical the way they were trying to get her to say something about it, but Jessica was clearly ready to boil over.
"Hi," Anna greeted, biting into her Snickers bar as she settled on the bench between them. Advanced Calculus casually offered her some carrots and hummus while Jessica's cheeks started to grow a furious shade of pink. 
"When were you going to tell us Bob invited you over for dinner tonight?" she exclaimed. 
Anna shrugged and said, "I was probably just going to tell you about it on Monday since it's nothing because we are just friends. It's only as exciting as it would be if I went over to your place for dinner."
"That's exciting, too!" Jessica said. "You should absolutely come over for dinner! But you're wrong, because it's not as exciting as Bob cooking dinner for you!"
"Jess. Chill out," came the voice from Anna's other side. "She'll learn soon enough that dinner cooked by one of the Top Gun boys is essentially a marriage proposal on a plate. A very sexy and delicious marriage proposal. You and he will be sleeping together in no time."
Anna chewed up the last bite of her Snickers and shook her head. "You're both wrong. Bob and I are just friends. The dinner means nothing, and we're not going to sleep together."
"Oh, please!" Jessica was back to practically shouting now. "If you think he's actually okay with all the making out, then you've lost your mind. He doesn't want it to be meaningless. He likes you."
Anna looked at her feet. "I know he does. I like him too."
"Then stop stringing him along! I don't understand what the problem is here, Anna."
She sat quietly now, no longer feeling so great as she picked at her sandwich.
"Hey, I know Jess sounds like an excitable terrier, but maybe you need a little tough love," Advanced Calculus said as she dipped a carrot into the hummus. "You can talk to us, you know. You can tell us what's wrong."
"Nothing's wrong," Anna whispered as her mind flooded with thoughts of Kevin and what he might be up to at the moment. 
Jess took a deep calming breath before she said, "There's just no good reason to put your dream man in the friend zone. And don't even try to lie and say Bob Floyd isn't perfection."
"He is," Anna whispered. Other than her infatuation with Sky Writing, Bob was the closest thing to a dream come true that she'd ever encountered before. But she did have her reasons, and she was too embarrassed to talk about it out loud. She was certain that Jess already knew her current financial state was in ruins, and it might be nice to have her friends understand where she was coming from, but she didn't want them to pity her. That was the last thing she needed right now. "You know what, I think I'm going to get ready for my next lecture."
She was on her feet and rushing away as her friends called after her, but she didn't stop walking until she reached her office. She was not going to cry over this, and she definitely didn't want to cancel on Bob. The only thing she could do to calm down was look at all of the books on her shelves, letting her gaze glide over the colorful spines. Then she read the note from Bob that was tucked in her copy of Papillon.
Freedom would feel like being so in love, you'd willingly let another person lock you to their side.
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Bob had a fully stocked kitchen filled with a nice set of pots and pans and sharp knives and anything else he could possibly want, but right now, it was like he'd never cooked anything before in his life. Nat's grandmother actually had atrocious handwriting, and he could barely make out the measurements in the photo he had to work with.
"Basil," he muttered to himself, grabbing the leafy greens from the cutting board and wondering why it looked like he was supposed to use three cups of them. "I didn't even buy that much!"
He took a deep breath and walked around his kitchen, trying to clear his head. Anna was going to grab an Uber. She would be arriving in about an hour with wine and dessert. He wanted to feed her the most delicious meal he could muster, but right now he was just looking at the chicken breast on the plate in front of him like he'd never seen food before.
And he just knew Jake and Bradley never had to work this hard for a woman in their lives. Jake could rely mostly on his looks if he wanted to, and Bradley was the luckiest person he knew, reuniting with the love of his life after ten years and getting married approximately a day later. "No," he whispered, "that's not fair to them." He knew he was wrong. He knew both of them worked to get where they ended up, and he shouldn't be putting himself down so much. 
He glared at the chicken and picked up a knife. "This is fine. No problem." He had to fudge some of the measurements which made no sense, and he'd suggest to Nat that maybe her grandmother should take an eye exam, but the recipe really wasn't too terribly hard. Soon he had the browned chicken in the oven, and he set to work on the bruschetta topping and started boiling some water for the pasta. He was just adding another tablespoon of balsamic vinegar to the tomatoes and basil when he heard Anna's beautiful laughter.
Bob nearly knocked the bowl to the floor in his haste to get to her. After grabbing a dish towel for his hands, he rushed toward his front door and saw her on his porch. She was wearing a little sundress that he'd seen her in before with her worn out denim jacket over it, and he froze a few feet inside his screen door just so he could look at her. She was juggling a shopping bag and a bottle of wine, and that's when he realized she was talking to Suzanne.
"Oh, no, I'm not in the Navy," she was saying as she tossed her beautiful, red hair over her shoulder. "I'm a professor at San Diego State University. My name's Anna."
She stretched her hand out, and then Bob heard Suzanne's voice. "I'm Suzanne, and that's my cat, Sylvester. I must say, I had no idea Robert got himself a girlfriend. And such a pretty one!"
He desperately wanted to interrupt their conversation before he could hear what Anna's response was going to be, but he just couldn't. She was standing there in the last rays of the setting sun, blushing as she said, "Bob and I are actually just friends. Just good friends."
There was a beat of silence before Suzanne laughed. "Have you seen him? And he's even sweeter than he is handsome!"
Anna was laughing nervously, and Bob's heart was pounding, but he opened the screen door to bail her out anyway. "Hey," he greeted as naturally as he could, and then Anna's apprehensive gaze met his. God, all he wanted to do was drag her inside, push her up against his living room wall and kiss until she realized he wasn't going to hurt her.
"Bob," she whispered, taking a small step in his direction. Her eyes were wide and perceptive, like she could read his every thought on his face. She cleared her throat and said, "I brought wine and some cookies."
Helpless to do much of anything else, he smiled at her. "Dinner's almost ready." Then he leaned further out the door and said, "Hi, Suzanne."
His next door neighbor looked delighted as she glanced between him and Anna. "I was just talking to your charming friend here, Robert. Cooking dinner for someone certainly sounds romantic to me."
Bob was gripping the door frame as he watched Anna's face fill with panic. Then she blurted out, "Why doesn't Suzanne join us?"
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The only thing Anna could think to do was sabotage the dinner she'd been looking forward to all week. She watched Bob's face fall slightly as he realized she invited his next door neighbor to join them for a very platonic dinner. And since Bob was the sweetest man Anna had ever met, he recovered immediately, turned to Suzanne and said, "You're more than welcome."
Ten minutes later, Bob was opening the bottle of cheap wine she'd brought while Anna watched the veins in his hands. He was graceful and lovely, and Suzanne was talking nonstop as he poured three glasses. She had nobody to blame but herself for inviting a third wheel along. The older woman was really more of a safety net. Someone to prevent Anna from kissing Bob. Someone to stop her from falling completely in love with him.
The whole house smelled amazing, and she knew this dinner was supposed to be just for her. She hadn't eaten a real meal like this, other than at the cookout, in months and months. The first bite of chicken, bruschetta and pasta was delicious enough that she moaned softly. Bob watched her take a second bite, and it was incredible. The third bite left her staring at him in wonder.
"You're the best cook in the world," Anna informed him, cutting across Suzanne talking about her cat. She didn't even care if she was being rude, the food was perfect. And it would have somehow been even better if the two of them were alone.
Bob blushed and took a sip of the wine that Anna wished was better than it was. "Thanks. Uh, it was a new recipe. I've never made it before tonight."
Suzanne took a bite and said, "Robert is an excellent cook and a real gentleman. He always makes sure I have groceries, and he picks up a little something for me if he gets dinner on his way home from work."
As Bob's cheeks grew redder, Anna's heart beat faster. "A real gentleman," she echoed, knowing he'd take care of anyone who needed something.
"Yes," Suzanne said. "You don't see many of them around. Never seen many myself."
Neither had Anna, and after she blew her life to bits, she'd probably never see one again. She listened to Bob and Suzanne talk about their favorite game shows, and she cleaned her plate before either of them had finished. All of the toast and sad sandwiches she'd been eating weren't really cutting it, and she knew that. She also didn't want to get another piece of chicken and seem like a mooch.
"Can I get you more?" Bob asked as he stood on the opposite side of the table in his worn jeans and snug white shirt. "There's plenty left."
Anna shook her head, but he reached for her plate anyway. While he was in the kitchen, Suzanne quickly finished eating and downed the rest of her wine. Softly, just for Anna to hear, she said, "He is a very nice man. I hope I see you around here in a less friendly capacity." Then she called out, "Robert? I need to go. I hear Sylvester outside bugging for food. Thanks for dinner, and enjoy your evening."
"Night, Suzanne," he replied, and the older woman bustled off without another word, leaving Anna alone with Bob when he returned with two plates refilled with food. "She's a character."
Anna laughed, but she could tell Bob was hesitant to say too much now. Probably because she'd dashed the mood in the first place. "I'm sorry I suggested she join us," she told him sincerely, shaking her head. "All week long, I'd been looking forward to talking about books with you." 
As she poked at her chicken, afraid of what he was going to say, he said, "Once you finish eating, I could show you my books. I don't have as many as you do, but maybe there's something you'd like to borrow in the mix. And then I'll drive you home."
"I can get an Uber," she insisted, taking another bite of the perfectly cooked dinner. 
"And I can just as easily drive you."
He was a gentleman. She wasn't going to leave here in an Uber no matter what she said. "Alright."
----------------------------
"You have books in every room!" Anna exclaimed as she walked around his house nibbling on a cookie. The wine she brought was kind of terrible, and so were the grocery store cookies, but Bob didn't mind. She ate two full plates of the dinner he cooked, and now that Suzanne was gone, she seemed more herself.
"I have a system," he insisted as she sat down on his living room floor to inspect a stack of paperbacks.
"I'm not buying it," she said, glancing at him over her shoulder.
"Try me. The living room is poetry. The extra bedroom is mysteries. The dining room is true crime."
"What's in your bedroom?" she asked, flipping through a collection by Robert Frost.
Bob wanted to tell her that his bedroom was where he wrote his own poetry. And that they had begun to turn into a collection all about her. "Romance," he said.
She laughed softly, such a pretty sound. "I'm assuming you don't have any Vonnegut? No soul massacring, unhappy endings?"
"None," he promised. "You won't find any of those around here."
She was skimming a page as she muttered, "Good. I've had enough of that anyway." Then she stood and carried the Frost poems to another small pile on his coffee table. She rooted around and pulled out a volume by Walt Whitman before asking, "Could I borrow these two?"
Bob was admiring how perfect she looked in his house when she met his eyes with her pretty brown ones. "Of course," he said, dropping down onto the couch as he finished his own cookie. "Anything you want."
She stood and carried the books over to her purse before sitting down a few feet away from him. "What I want is to help you organize your books for real. Have you ever heard of a bookshelf before?"
"Never," he replied innocently. "What's that?"
She laughed and scooted a little closer. "You know those big, wooden things that were holding all the books when we met at that store in North Park? Remember that day?"
He knew she was just joking around, but as he memorized the pattern of her freckles, he said, "I will never forget that day."
Once again, Anna initiated the kiss, and once again, Bob was helpless to pump the brakes. She leaned in close with her hand on his knee and brushed her lips against his. It was so sweet, he was almost able to ask her to stop. Even though it felt too good, he was nearly able to tell her he couldn't do this. But being tortured was worth it. That was the worst part.
He let her do what she wanted, and her soft hands found their way to his face, knocking his glasses askew on their way into his hair. He wanted to touch her, but he was afraid he'd lose himself in these kisses that meant so much more to him than they did to her. He counted to ten slowly in his mind, savoring every touch and taste, letting Anna settle against his thigh. Then he broke the kiss, leaving her hovering there, surprise on her face.
She pressed her lips together, and turned her face toward his front door. "I'll never forget that day either."
He nodded as her hands fell away from his hair and his face, and he whispered, "Grab the books you want to borrow, and I'll drive you home."
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"He's a gentleman," Anna groaned in her bed on the floor of her tiny apartment the following morning. It was Saturday, and she didn't have much she needed to accomplish today which would leave her plenty of time to think about the drive home in Bob's truck and the way he walked her to her door. She didn't kiss him again, but he always seemed to be close enough that she could feel his body heat in the chilly night air. Even now, when she grabbed at some strands of her hair, she swore she could still smell his fresh scent there.
She needed to get out. She grabbed her phone and took the longest walk imaginable. Her legs were burning by the time she stopped in a corner store for something to eat for lunch, but the sandwich was almost as bad as the ones she had been making for herself. Nothing would be as good as what Bob cooked, and he served it up last night like it was no big deal at all.
As Anna started the long walk back to her apartment, she groaned while she blasted her music. She had invited his elderly neighbor to join them for dinner, and then she had kissed him again. She was so embarrassing. She'd never been like this when she was in New Jersey, never doing the most mortifying things over and over. 
She didn't go home for a long time. She walked through an enormous park and looked at a fountain while she daydreamed about all of her unfinished manuscripts. When that started to hurt too much, she watched the storm clouds that were rolling in from the coast and thought it might be nice to get soaking wet. Then a few fat raindrops started to hit her face as she realized that she wouldn't be able to replace her phone if it got destroyed. 
"Damn it," she muttered, starting to run through the park under the cover of the trees. The sky was quickly getting darker as she tried to stay under awnings and overhangs as much as possible until she reached her apartment building. Her clothing was soaked, but her phone was still in working order when she ran inside, dripping all over the welcome mat in the small entryway.
She desperately wanted to cry, but that wouldn't solve anything, so she took a long shower instead. She washed and braided her hair, and then she painted her nails. When she finally picked up her phone again, she had a new message from Bob.
Bob Floyd: Taking your advice and buying one of those bookshelves? Was that what they were called? Which one do you think is better?
He had attached two screenshots of nice looking shelves from Ikea that she'd never be able to afford at the moment. She smiled as she typed back to him while she heated up a can of soup for dinner.
Yes, they are called bookshelves. Are you sure you know how to use them? I like the navy blue one better.
The flavorless chicken noodle soup went well with Anna's mood as she sat on the floor and watched a show on her phone. Part of her wanted to know what her friends were up to, but she didn't want to have to tell them about last night. She knew Bob and Jess would be going out to play Dungeons & Dragons soon anyway, but she dropped her spoon in the bowl when Bob wrote back again.
Bob Floyd: I think I'll pick it up tomorrow and make it my rainy Sunday project. Feel like helping me build it?
"Oh, Anna. Don't."
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Bob pulled up to Anna's building on Sunday afternoon after stopping to pick up the shelf. It had been pouring rain since last night, and he had to wrap his new furniture box in a tarp to protect it in the bed of his truck. But this would be a great way to spend the afternoon. He could make two cups of tea, and she could help him organize his books. They didn't need to kiss anymore. He would see to it that they didn't. He could handle this whole thing without issue.
He left his truck idling at the curb, and Anna came running outside like she'd been waiting for him. He grabbed his umbrella and met her halfway, shouting, "I was going to walk up and get you!" over the sound of the rain. She joined him under the umbrella, her denim jacket pretty wet as she shrugged.
"The rain's okay. It reminds me of New Jersey."
Once he opened the door and helped her scramble in, he ran around to the other side of the truck. He was barely able to find a dry spot on his shirt so he could wipe off his glasses, and when he yanked the hem up, he could feel Anna's eyes on his body. There was no sense in feeling self conscious about the way he looked now, because nothing else was going to happen. Last night had to be the end of that.
"You ready?" he asked, cranking the key in the ignition when she nodded. His wipers were going full speed as he drove her back to his house for the second visit in one weekend. "Thanks for helping with this. I kind of realized that having everything on one big shelf makes more sense. Especially if I keep borrowing books from you."
Her laugh was soft as she said, "If you don't borrow my books, then nobody will."
"Same goes for mine," he replied easily as he headed toward the beach. "But don't you dare dog ear my pages."
Now she laughed louder. "I read most of Whitman last night before I fell asleep, and there's nary a bent page in sight."
"That's what I like to hear." When he pulled up in front of his house, he handed her the umbrella and his keys. "Go ahead and let yourself in, and I'll unload the box."
She just gaped at him in response and asked, "Don't you need help carrying it?"
"Nah," he replied, popping his door open, "I can get it."
Bob struggled a little bit with the tarp before sliding the massive box closer to the edge of the truck tailgate. Every movement was made slower by the pounding rain in his face, but he managed to tip it into his arms. It was heavy, but not too bad, and his grip on the wet cardboard was good enough for him to get it inside the house. Anna was standing on the porch, holding open his screen door with the umbrella folded up at her feet, and he accidentally brushed against her with his arm as he maneuvered himself through the door.
"Sorry."
"It's okay," she said, her voice a little breathy as she let the screen door close and helped him prop the box against the wall. "This is massive."
"I guess now I can buy more books," he said with his hands on his hips while he dripped all over the place. "I'm going to get changed quickly, and then we can build the shelf and organize it, and then I'll make dinner."
Her eyes lit up. "You'll make dinner again?"
"Yeah. I was going to see if I can attempt a grilled cheese without burning it. I'll be right back." And then he headed upstairs to his bedroom where he had clean undershirts, some sweatpants and all of his favorite books.
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Anna was halfway through unboxing and organizing the shelf pieces on the floor when Bob walked back downstairs. She'd removed her denim jacket, and her leggings and tank top were mostly dry, and she'd settled on the floor with the instruction book. "It looks like we'll need a screwdriver or a drill...." 
Her sentence tapered off when she looked up at Bob just casually standing there in one of his white shirts and a pair of gray sweatpants and neatly combed, damp hair. The ability to speak escaped her.
"I can grab my toolbox," he told her, adjusting the waistband of his sweatpants before disappearing toward the kitchen. She needed to lie down. She stretched out on the floor and stared at the ceiling as rain pelted the window next to her. 
"Oh my god," she whispered before biting down on her lip. She wanted him. She liked every damn thing about him, and then he had to look and smell and sound so good on top of it all. The Walt Whitman poems weren't the only thing she had read last night. Sky Writing's words from her favorite poems were also in her mind, and she couldn't shake them. Anna had just rolled into her side, staring at the instructions without actually seeing them, when he walked back in. 
"Are you okay?"
"Great," she said, voice raspy. She was in fact not great. She was the opposite of great. When Bob handed her the toolbox and said he was going to make two mugs of tea, she took the time to pull herself together. Sweaty palms glided along her leggings, and she read the instructions through. It seemed simple enough, and she had the hardware in order by the time Bob returned with two steaming mugs.
"Thanks," she whispered as he settled onto the floor next to her. She knew this was how good things would be if she could date Bob. Hot tea and homemade meals and someone around who loved books. "You're really sweet."
He didn't say anything as he sipped his tea, so Anna did the same. It was raining so hard, she couldn't tell if what she heard was thunder or not, but inside Bob's house, everything was warm and cozy. "Let's get started," he finally said, leaning in front of her to set his mug on the windowsill.
They spoke quietly, mostly about the shelf, while she handed him hardware and tools. Anna found herself distracted as she watched his hair dry and lighten in color as they worked together. Every bump of his muscular arm against hers felt intentional, but she couldn't tell for sure, and she was too afraid to ruin this friendship beyond repair. Especially after what her friends had told her at lunch on Friday.
"I need the screwdriver," he said, bumping her gently with his elbow as he held two perpendicular pieces of wood in place. 
"I can get it," she replied, finally refocused on the task before her. "I'll screw it in." She tried to reach in front of him, but he was too tall. When he moved his arms a little further apart, she popped up between them so she was standing between his body and the shelf. "I'll only take a second."
She could feel Bob's warm breath against her ear, and all he could think was that she would fit perfectly in his arms if he decided to just drop what he was holding and wrap them around her instead. "Take your time," he murmured, because of course his arms wouldn't get tired in this position. She fumbled the screw. His body was immaculate, and it was all she could think about as he exhaled and tickled her hair.
"I'm trying," she whispered, fumbling the screw again. Finally she had it in place, and Bob released the shelf, but he didn't move away from her.
"Think you can screw the last two in as well? Then we'll be done."
She nodded and decided to go slower, savor this tiny bit of intimacy and pretend he was hers. Then it was done.
"It looks good."
She barely had to turn to look at him over her shoulder. "It's a nice shelf. How do you want to arrange your books?"
He was still standing close as he said, "Poetry on the top? Since it's my favorite?"
"Yeah," she told him with a laugh. "Banish it to the top where nobody but you can reach it."
He cocked his head and leaned in closer. "Are you insulting the poetry or commenting on my height?"
"A bit of both," she replied right away. The living was darker now from the storm and from the time of day, but she could see his smile perfectly. 
"Come on, Anna. We both know you love the poetry. You borrowed two volumes the other day."
She only hummed in response before ducking away from him and reaching for a stack of his books. She handed them to him one at a time, commenting on them like she was giving each a bad review. "Oh, this one is too flowery. Too many words and no substance." She handed him another after he shelved the first one. "This author put all their best works at the beginning of the collection. The second half is terrible."
Bob chuckled as she picked up a book that she knew was a favorite of his. "Hey, you better watch what you say about that one."
She waved it in the air, unable to reach the top shelf, and he snatched it out of her hand. "I'm going to be brutally honest," she said softly, and Bob's hand rested on her back almost like a warning. "I loved it."
He smiled and let his fingers trail along her back as he nodded toward the stairs. "Want to help me tackle the mystery books in the extra bedroom?"
"Sure," she told him, leading the way to the steps. "But first, you have to tell me why you like poetry so much."
"What's not to like?" he replied as she started up. "All of the emotions are there. You're allowed to write about any combination of emotions that you're feeling at any given time. And I think that's pretty cool."
Anna's steps slowed a little as she considered his words. "Write?" she asked, turning to look back at him as he made his way up behind her. "Did you say write?"
"Uh. I did. Yeah."
Truly, she loved reading poetry, but she didn't have much of a knack for writing it. She didn't even think she was good enough for PoetsAmongUs. "What's something you've written?"
Bob laughed, and Anna stumbled on the top step as he said, "Just some amateur gibberish like, 'Devotion woven into every breath I take. Love that knows no boundaries, no end.' Nothing amazing."
She gripped the banister to keep herself upright, and then she spun and sat down hard on the top step. Suddenly she felt like she couldn't breathe. She knew those words intimately. She knew the whole fucking poem by heart. She knew everything else he had written as well, because she'd been reading his poetry for years.
"Bob," she croaked, and he rushed toward her, hands gentle on her ankle and leg.
"Are you okay? Did you twist it?"
"Bob," she gasped, reaching for the front of his undershirt and pulling him closer so he was focused on her face. "You're Sky Writing."
--------------------------
BOB IS SKY WRITING, ANNA. What the hell are you going to do now, babe? Please, make good choices. Thank you @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 10
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