#flash watched this kid snap his own neck

[luveline]

maybe could I ask for miguel seeing spider girl with a bruise on her face and getting protective (when in reality it was just over something dumb) thank youuuu <3

ty for requesting! Finding his Spider-Girl is never easy. He’ll assume you’re wearing your watch and find it forgotten in his room, or under a chair in the cafeteria, or twitching and loosing smoke at the bottom of a garbage can, nowhere near your actual location. 

Today, he checks all your usual haunts and decides he might break up with you if you don’t start leaving him clues as to where to find you. Not that’s he’s your boyfriend (of course he’s your boyfriend), but he’d put an end to your… relationship, should he have to. 

He’s getting annoyed at his own thoughts and, by extension, you, when he finally finds you lying casually across a couch in a common area otherwise abandoned. You’ve projected your phone game onto the ceiling, music leaking from the cans of your headphones, with your socked feet dangling over an armrest, a drinks bottle by your head.

“Where are your shoes?” he asks loudly. 

You glance his way. “Hi, Miguel.” 

“Are you walking around without shoes?” He bends one way and another looking for them. They’re on their sides under the coffee table among a legion of dust bunnies. 

“What?” 

“I said–” He hates playing this game. “Take the headphones off, and then we’ll talk to each other.” 

“I’m gonna take my headphones off,” you say. 

He rolls his eyes. You stop projecting your phone, snapping it closed on your chest and struggling up into a sitting position, legs retrieved from over the armrest and crossed beneath you as your headphones slip around your neck. You’re in sportswear with a jacket too big for you over your shoulders, cute cargo pants he adores and potentially would love to take off of you, and he’s so busy noticing your uncharacteristic outfit that he misses the huge bruise on your face, the yellow, red and purple like a stain under your eye 

He has amazing vision. “What happened?” he asks, practically diving for you, bending down to take your unbruised cheek into his hand. “Who did that to you?” 

You haven’t been on a strike mission in weeks, and your combat training is all but done. 

Someone laid their hands on you. 

Miguel goes into a fugue. “Sweetheart,” he says, his voice flat, almost cold, “who hit you?” 

“Miguel, I’m a superhero–”

“I don’t remember the last time you went home,” he says, immediately brushing this possibility away. You don’t fight crime in your dimension, Spider-Girl a poorly received vigilante. “You haven’t been in training, I didn’t send you on the strike this morning because you didn’t want to go.” He touched you with extreme care, thumb barely pressed to your skin, but he talks with precision. “So I’ll ask again. Who hit you, cariño?” 

“Miguel,” you laugh, pushing his hand off of your face to wrap your arms around his neck. He covers your back instinctively. “I’m fine, what’s wrong with you? You’re acting all macho.” 

“You aren’t answering my question.” 

“Oh my gosh.” You cling to him. He could stand up at full height and be sure you’d come up with him. He’d quite enjoy that, to his secret pleasure, you with your legs wrapped around his hips. You don’t like being carried is the kicker. “Miguel, I hit myself. My hand got caught when I was taking the suit off and I hit myself in the eye, it’s fine.” 

Your back is soft. His hand less so as he rubs your back in surprised, short lines, up and down and up again. “Idiot,” he says, his voice turning to rasp at such a low volume. 

It must hurt, even if you did it to yourself. Miguel peels you away from his neck and stations you gently on the couch. “I’ll take you to the medbay,” he promises, giving your shoulder a little push. “What’s wrong with you? You hit yourself? You’re like a kid.” 

“I am not! It happens to everybody.” 

“Never happens to me.” 

“You cheat. Your suit flashes on and off.”

“It does not.” Miguel decides he is going to carry you whether you like it or not. You aren’t wearing shoes —he doesn’t need you getting any more injured. “Alright, hold on to your phone, my brat.” 

“Your what?” you laugh, though any humour you hold is lost when Miguel grabs you up with ease and cradles your full grown body to his chest in a princess carry, “Miguel! Stop, put me down! You know I hate this.” 

“You might hurt yourself again. I’m taking necessary precautions.” 

You sigh and drop your face into his shoulder. “Well, I guess I’ll allow it. You got so, so mad thinking somebody hit me, I think you deserve to carry me around like a large cantaloupe.” You draw a heart into the base of his neck. “Will you grab my shoes?” 

“I’ll circle back.” 

“Thank you. How’d you even find me? I was hoping I’d be healed the next time we saw one another.”

“At bedtime, you mean?” 

He resists the urge to kiss your cheek, or tell you how he’d found you (mindless combing of the building, seduction of your most likely location, and dumb luck). You don’t need the ammunition. 

[vivwritesfics]

Hungry Like The Wolf

Chapter Eleven

She hadn't seen her best friend, Lando, in years. She didn't run into him the last time she was visiting her father and she doubted she'd see him this time. Things were different now. She wasn't aware of his furry little problem. Just like she wasn't aware of the vampires plaguing the town.

2K

Vampire!Oscar x Reader x Werewolf!Lando

Warnings: Horny (no smut, not yet), negative views of poly relationships (not my own views)

Series Masterlist

Feel free to buy me a coffee ☕☕

"What the hell are you doing?!"

Lando and Oscar had tried to be polite, tried to be normal about things. They went to the front door, knocked, and waited for it to be opened.

He had to make things right, Lando knew. He had to fix things with her before he inevitably made things worse.

While they were waiting for the door to open, they heard a noise. Both boys knew they wouldn't have picked up on it if they weren't... you know. But they both heard it, clear as day. "What the fuck?" Lando hissed as he looked at Oscar.

The front door opened as they disappeared around to the back of the house. "Hello?" They heard Mr Wolff call as he peered out into the night. He muttered something, something that sounded like damned kids.

But neither Lando nor Oscar were too concerned with what Toto Wolff had to say. No, they got to her window and immediately knew what was wrong.

"Seriously, what the fuck!" Lando shouted as they stared up at her, hanging from the window.

She tried to get some sort of grip on the wall, tried to find some sort of crevice to place her foot on, but there was nothing. "Don't worry about it. Can one of you just climb up here and help me?"

In the blink of an eye, Oscar was in her bedroom. Lando climbed up the tree but Oscar wrapped his arms around her and hoisted her up and back into the bedroom. "What on earth were you doing?" He asked as he pulled her inside and gently set her back on her feet. Immediately he had a hold of her hand, checking for any splinters or anything.

She shrugged her shoulders, stepping out of the way for Lando to climb his way in. "You guys disappeared out of the window and I wanted to follow," she mumbled as she folded her arms and sat on her bed.

In defeat, Oscar held his hand up. She was being as stubbornly annoying as Lando, but at least Lando had an excuse.

But Lando was just standing there, hands in his pocket, not saying anything. God, it was so damn exhausting. Oscar released a sigh and threw his head back. If left up to the two of them, nothing was going to get fixed.

"Lando has something he wants to say," he said as he leaned against the desk, arms crossed over his chest.

Lando sucked in a breath. He squeezed his eyes shut, nails digging into his palms. "I..."

The words died on his tongue. I'm sorry. It was so simple, two little words and he would be done. Why wasn't he saying it? The way she was looking at him, so ready to forgive him, but Lando just couldn't see it.

He was so damn infuriating.

Oscar released an exhausted sigh. "Lando probably should explain how the full moon affects people like him. He should probably explain to you that he's dealing with heightened emotions and that is why he snapped earlier. He got scared by the thought of you leaving and..."

The two of them were looking at him, waiting for him to continue. "AND..." He prompted again, eyes flashing at Lando.

"And... I'm sorry," Lando finally repeated. His gaze dropped to his shoes. "The way I lost it was stupid. I mean, we're adults now and we can drive to see each other and now that you've got us, you can't leave for four years at a time."

A laugh left her lips. She unfolded her arms and stood from her bed. "You got that right," she said and strode towards him, arms wrapping around his neck as she pulled him in closer.

Oscar watched as they, quite literally, kissed and made up. "You guys are something else," he mumbled as Lando leaned back, almost tumbling out of the window. But Oscar was behind him in a second, a steadying hand on his back, keeping the two of them safely inside.

But then they were turning towards him, on him in seconds. Thank God he was strong, steady on his feet and not human. The both of them demanded his attention, and Oscar was only happy to give it.

"Promise me you only snapped because of the full moon?" She mumbled as between kissing Oscar's cheek and neck. Kissing a vampires neck, it was a little funny, wasn't it? His puncture wounds had long since disappeared, not marring his skin like the movies made out it would.

Lando let out a hum, pulling away from Oscar's lips. "Promise," he said, fingers threading through her hair and turning her towards him. "All rational thinking goes out of the window when there's a full moon involved."

Don't tell them about the horny phase. Don't tell them about the horny phase.

He kissed her again, hands cupping her face. The whine it pulled from her was so damn sweet, it had Oscar holding back a shudder. And he wasn't even the one pulling those noises from her. He could only begin to guess the affect it was having on Lando.

But Lando pulled away from her, surprising them both. "Should we continue that date?" He asked, looking from her to Oscar.

The three of them climbed onto the bed. Oscar first, shuffling over to the other side and realising he probably should have just climbed in that side. And then her. She was supposed to climb into the middle, to lay between her two boys.

But she left that space free, left it for Lando. He swallowed thickly as he climbed between the two of them, settling down as Oscar put his arm around his shoulders. This was not going to help stave off the horny phase.

She picked the movie. Head on Lando's chest, she scrolled through her streaming services until she found something old. Another movie Oscar had seen in the cinema, this time in the seventies.

They were both tired, Oscar could tell that much. Maybe it was the way their voices were muffled and barely there. Maybe it was the way their eyes started drooping. But it also could have been the onslaught of yawns.

"You can sleep," he said, squeezing Lando's shoulder.

It wasn't permission; they both knew they didn't need permission, but they fell asleep not long after that. The two of them turned towards him, Lando curled against his side, her wrapping herself around Lando's back like a koala on it's mothers back.

Oscar made the great effort of kissing both of their heads and turned his attention back to the movie. He hadn't seen it since the seventies, hadn't cared to watch it for a second time, but he wasn't going to tell them that.

He watched them, watched as they slept. She gripped Lando's shirt so tight, almost as if she was afraid he'd disappear out of the window again if he let go.

But then the bedroom door opened.

If he'd been concentrating, he would have heard Toto coming. It would have given him time to jump out the window, or hide in the closet. Something so this looked normal. Because this wasn't normal, not even by their standards.

Toto stared at him. He stared at Toto. Like a deer caught in headlights, Oscar could do nothing else but stare. Even when Lando made that slightly distressed noise, he couldn't move to give him any sort of comfort (which was fine, because she moved closer, unconsciously pressing her face into his back).

Toto cleared his throat, but it wasn't loud enough to wake either of them. "I've leave you to it, then," he whispered and pulled the door shut.

His words might have seemed hushed and calm, but he certainly wasn't. But that was a conversation he could have with his daughter the next day. Or maybe the day after, the poor man needed time to process.

***

Let me tell you about the horny phase.

It wasn't a fun horny phase, wasn't sudden bursts of passion that overtook Lando, that led to them falling into the bed and messing up the sheets. No, it had him agitated, an itch under his skin that he couldn't quite scratch.

She wasn't helping, but she didn't know. Like that afternoon, when she was picking out an outfit for their café date. "I'm gonna roast in this," she said, changing out of the old man cardigan she had been wearing as Lando and Oscar climbed through the window.

He released an inhuman noise as she stood in front of her wardrobe, trying to pick something new. But that noise soon turned into a whimper as Oscar grabbed his arm, his free hand touching the back of her neck. "Calm yourself," he cooed.

But Lando was fidgeting, squirming in his seat. "Sweetheart, hurry up and pick something," Oscar called.

"One second," she called back, waving them both off without a care in the world.

She didn't know that Oscar had to climb on top of Lando, pinning him to the bed. Lando squirmed beneath him, seemingly enjoying it. "Stop," Oscar commanded and Lando stilled.

His lips, so sharp and so deadly, were so close to his neck. Lando tipped his head to the side, giving him more access.

He'd never tasted werewolf before. Would it be different to human? His teeth were so close to the skin, close enough to pierce. He touched, teeth grazing him, but Oscar pulled back. No, he couldn't. Not now.

"You're killing me, Lan," he mumbled and pressed his face against his shoulder.

Lando bucked his hips up. Well, as much as he could with Oscar pinning him. It was the smallest bit of satisfaction, but it was enough.

But then she turned around. "Oh," she said as she pulled her shirt down over her chest. "What's... what're we doing, guys?" She asked as she sat down beside them on the bed.

Immediately, Lando was reaching for her. His hand touched her hip before Oscar pulled him back. "C'mon," he said, his grip on Lando so damn tight. "Tell her what's going on."

When you looked at the two of them, it came as something rather unexpected, that Oscar was the one taking charge. But Lando was loving. He was loving it. He grinned as he wrapped his legs around Oscar and tucked his head against his neck. An act, one of innocence.

Oscar simply rolled his eyes. "You know how he was... emotional the other day?" He asked and she nodded. "Well, after the emotions comes the arousal," he explained.

Her eyes went wide. "A horny phase?" She asked quietly, fiddling with her fingers in her lap.

Lando giggled. It was that shrieking giggle she'd heard so many times growing up. But it was so damn unexpected, hearing it then, it that... setting. He reached his hand out again and, this time, Oscar let him.

At first, it was sweet, the way he kissed every single one of her fingers. But then he was nosing at her wrist before attempting to pull her into the two of them.

Oscar rolled away, but he kept one leg over Lando, keeping him from jumping at her. But Lando still lunged. He tried to dart towards her, nearly knocking his head into hers. He would have, too, probably would have knocked them both out if it wasn't for the way Oscar was holding him.

"No, no," she said as she settled on top of him as best she could with Oscar on the other side. "Let him go, I wanna see what he does."

"No way," Oscar answered instantly. But, the moment she pushed him, he rolled away, willingly. "What am I gonna do with the two of you?" He mumbled, his smile incredibly fond for the situation.

But neither of them cared as they sank into each other.

Taglist: @biancathecool

@rewmuslupin

@prettiest-at-the-party

@hellowgoodbye

@minseok-smaus

@formulaal

@darleneslane

@hiireadstuff

@urfavnoirette

@goldenharrysworld

@andydrysdalerogers

@llando4norris

@evlkking

@lilymurphy03

@hollie911

@customsbyjcg-blog

@honethatty12

@nikfigueiredo

@not-nyasa

@nurse-sainz

Series taglist (CLOSED): @cmleitora

@booksandflowrs

@evie-119

@annispamz

@neilakk

@ginsengi

@lighttsoutlewis

@charleslecler

@eviethetheatrefreak

@rbv3rstappen

@vicurious28

@val-writes

@lovecarsgoingvroom

@minmira95

@sophia12345678

@forza-dolce

@lindsayjoy444 (can you let me know if you've been tagged pls? Tumblr says you haven't)

@eclipedcherry (can you let me know if you've been tagged pls? Tumblr says you haven't)

@ophleiahome (can you let me know if you've been tagged pls? Tumblr says you haven't)

@cassielikereading (can you let me know if you've been tagged pls? Tumblr says you haven't)

@styl1shl1v (can you let me know if you've been tagged pls? Tumblr says you haven't)

@ln4norizz (can you let me know if you've been tagged pls? Tumblr says you haven't)

[allzelemonz]

Superior Mates: Nolan Grayson X Male Reader

Summertime Prompt: Day 4, Omegaverse AU Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘father’ Primary Sex: AMAB Secondary Sex: Omega Rating: E/Sex, violence, mentioned character death Warnings: Omegaverse, a/o, Viltrumite culture, imperialism, blood, smut, anal sex, breeding, bonding as mates, reader is a Viltrumite, Nolan being an asshole, Debbie mentioned, Mark is dead Summary: Nolan wasted seventeen years playing human, now he wants something from home.

The rush of air hits you before you see him. You had been standing in your kitchen, simply staring at your fridge to decide on a snack but clearly Nolan has a lot more going on. When you shut the door and look up at him you find him covered in blood and panting. His shoulders move up and down with every breath and his bloodshot eyes are full of that familiar Viltrumite rage that reminds you of home.

“What happened?” You ask, unfazed as you wet a towel in the sink.

“Mark.” He says simply, almost growling.

You approach him slowly, putting a hand on his shoulder and feeling his muscles relax under the touch. No doubt he’s calmed by the natural Omega scent. You run the towel over his blood covered face and he closes his eyes to let you.

“Is that who you’re covered in?”

“He refused.”

“Then you did the right thing.”

He sighs. “Waste of my time.”

“Seventeen years is nothing, Nolan.”

He leans into your hand as you run the towel over his cheek. “I want a Viltrumite.”

“Then raise the next one on Viltrum.”

His hand grabs your wrist and squeezes with a force that would’ve broken a human’s bones. “I want a Viltrumite.”

“Your obsession with fatherhood is concerning.”

His grip loosens and he runs his other hand through your hair. “You’ll think the same during your heat.”

You scoff. “I’m not mating with you, Nolan. We have a planet to conquer.”

“And it’d be easier with a few kids to help.” He says softly, rubbing your head. “I’d fuck you over and over until we had our own planet’s worth.”

“You’re assuming I want kids because I’m an Omega?”

He grips your hair. “Because you’re a Viltrumite.”

“Yeah, and I’ll do my duty and have the necessary number.” You sigh. “At some point.”

He shakes his head. “Now.”

You shove him away, turning back to the kitchen. “Go back to your little human toy, Nolan.”

He glares. “She can’t handle what I want to do.”

“Then go home and pick up some Omega bitch there.”

“They wouldn’t be you.” He seethes. “I want the father of my children to be you.”

“And I want to snap your neck, but we don’t always get what we want.”

“They sent us here.” Nolan growls, moving to stand in front of you. “They expect us to mate.”

“If they did, we’d have orders.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder and you look at him. “I need to fuck something that can take what I give it for once.”

You stare at him, watching his eyes turn from a glare to something more honest. “Fine.” You sigh. “Once.”

“All night.” He squeezes your shoulder. “Let me fuck you until the sun rises and we obliterate this rat infested planet.”

“I’m not having your kids.”

“I know.” He moves his hand to cup your cheek. “Not tonight, but eventually.”

You roll your eyes and he wraps an arm around your waist.

“Is there anyone else you’d want to do that to you?” He whispers. “Anyone better suited?”

“Are you going to fuck me or not?”

“Depends. Can I at least pretend I’m fucking Mark’s replacement into you?”

“If you make me cum twice as much as you get to.”

He smiles. “Deal, Omega.”

His lips connect with yours in a hungry kiss, teeth and tongue with so little care but so much desperation. In a flash you’re in your bed and he’s palming you through your pants and his other hand squeezes your ass. His dick presses against your leg, taking over the length of your thigh as he grinds against it.

“I’ve wanted you since we got sent here.” He mutters. “I wanted to fuck you in front of this whole planet of inferiors and show them how perfect a Viltrumite Omega takes it.”

“Then why aren’t you fucking me yet?”

He chuckles. “I was trying to be a gentleman. Human sentiments, they must’ve worn off on me.”

“I didn’t sit through your sob story to not be knotted tonight, Nolan.”

He groans, leaning up to rip his clothes off. “Fuck, I missed Vilturmie Omegas.” He rips your pants off and grips your hips to pull you closer. “You know you’re superior, not whiney like bitched humans.”

“Happy to be of service to the Empire.”

He groans, lining himself up. “Is that what that slick’s for? The Empire?”

You wrap your legs around his waist, encouraging him to press closer. “No. That’s all for my Alpha.”

He stills, timidly running a hand over your taint, hardened dick, and up your stomach to rest on your chest. “Let me mark you.”

You meet his eyes, his scent hitting your nose. “I wanna feel you inside me first.”

He doesn’t hesitate, plunging inside of you and pulling your hips flush against him. His dick fills you completely, the tip pressing so far in that it bulges out your stomach even through your layers of muscle and fat. He holds himself there, leaning over you as he licks at your scent mark.

“Good enough?” He mumbles, kissing the sensitive spot.

Your legs are frozen around him, your body split open and head foggy from the Alpha arousal scent. “Y-Yeah…”

He leans his head up, a hand brushing through your hair. “Who’s your Alpha?”

“You… Alpha.” You shutter as his dick twitches inside of you. “Nolan.”

[simp-ly-writes]

For All Time

Paring: 10th Doctor x Fem! Time Lord!Reader

Summary: Many, Many worlds ago you were married to the Doctor. That was until a war tore your home planet and species apart and you were part of the lucky handful that managed to make your way out into the universe- alive. As you go through many regenerations of yourself, you run into the Master, an old friend of yours that you faintly remember. He tells you of the Doctor, warns you of your spouse and from then on, you are on a mission to never interact with him. Should be easy... right?

Warnings: 3300 words. Angst with no HEA. Themes of death. Depictions of Blood.

A/N: This is my first time writing for Doctor Who and I have only watched 12 hours worth of video essay's on the series. Please be kind and I hope you all enjoy~ :)

Masterlist | Taglist Request | edited.

You were terrified of time lords, the Doctor in particular and as to not be a hypocrite, you were scared of yourself- of everything you could fuck up for all time- that you already did fuck up for all time as the Master had already reported to you all those regenerations ago.

He told you of the horrors you made, the inconsequential decisions you thought to be just so now added up to a few hundred deaths on your hands as universe's threatened to collapse and the possible elimination of dozens of species painted your hands in guilt. Your finger nails pressing into your palms as you shook your head, trying to wring the statistics out of your head. But in the sliver of a smile, his dark eyes filled your thoughts as he placed a hand on your shoulder and leaned closer to your face, tears began to well up in your eyes.

You felt his breath on your neck as he brushed your hair away from your face, drinking up your tears while whispering in your ear, "But you haven't done the worst, love." He emits a small chuckle, his head knocking slighting against your own as you lean further back into the wall for support. "It is the Doctor that damned us all and yet we are the one's to be blamed, for everything, for all time, now and forever. He has killed millions, and nearly every little lover he calls companions he takes on his tyrannical adventures."

Your voice meek, throat clogged with tears as you sniffle for air, "I thought I was the only one, old friend... I thought that- that-"

"From what I know..." he cuts you off, taking a step back, allowing you room to breath as your legs give out from underneath yourself, your back falling against the wall before you are sat on the floor. Your fingers picking away at the grout between the tiles as you count the tiles of the room, doing your best to blink away the tears. "... its just the three of us and if I can offer you a tidbit of advice form one friend to another..."

He stand at full height, leaning down to lift your chin, that sliver now a toothy grin as his fingers dig into your cheeks, pressing your lips together, his eyes flash over to them before continuing his eye contact as you wince at the force he handles you with. "...continue to run away from us all." He drops your head, as if your skin burned his own and by the time you gain the momentum to look up once more, there are no traces he ever was here- he ever exist, a mere fragment of your imagination. You pick yourself up the floor and take his advice to heart.

--

So thats how you found yourself, sat underneath an umbrella in early spring within France. You and your Tardis concluded the time to be the mid two-thousands as you tried not to let the everlasting smell of piss on the streets keep you from enjoying an early brunch.

You watched as various tourists rolled themselves out onto the streets, snapping hundreds of pictures with their digital cameras, kids pointing at various things in storefronts, leading their parents chasing after them. A small smile casted upon your features as you listened to their little feet run across the cobbled streets, cheering loudly at the sweets in the window.

The Sun begins to peek out from between the clouds as you cast your gaze down to escape its shinning rays sneaking underneath your cover. Taking a sip of your now ice-cold coffee, you jolt in your seat, unaware that it was yourself who clattered the cup to the plate, trying to set your drink down. Dropping your shoulders down, your cheeks warm as the kids from earlier snap their heads towards the noise as you begin to pat your pants dry from the spilled coffee.

You swear lightly underneath your breath, your book-ruined and the liquid threatening to ruin your pants as well. Taking a napkin from the holder, you pat yourself down before opening the book in your lap, trying to air out the pages.

But soon the book and outfit become the last of your worries as your ear twitch to the familiar mechanical wizzing sound of what could only be a Tardis. Sweat instantly forms in your palms, your eyes dart around the streets, looking, watching, waiting for his arrival. You hate to admit that the panic holds yourself still, strapped to this very chair to witness the horror about to be unleashed yet all these humans appear none-the-wiser to their upcoming demise.

And when you think all those tears you shed were now buried away yet new ones burn your vision blurry as you grip the table in wait. What of the children, the families, the lives of them all? Your brain presses, kicking into hyperdrive, asking yourself if you are ready to die. But what will he do if he finds me? And your mind goes blank, incapable of thinking of what tortures you would endure.

So you present yourself human, plastering a fake smile, bright eyes as silent tears run rivers down your cheeks. Your breathing staggered just like your hearts, threatening to exit your body and make a life for themselves. It would be better to die, you convince yourself, the words echoing through your soul, it is better to die, die, die.

--

It feels like lifetimes move as you await his presence, eyes casting down the various alleyways, ears pointed for the sounds of agony and screams in his pleasure for universal domination. "He's killed millions," the Master's voice whispers into your ear with the breeze following by the sound of two beating hearts.

It was hard to miss the way your heart slowed, matching the breaths in between his own. His steps organized in the crowd surrounding him as a woman follows just behind his every step. His hair caught you first, its frazzled appearance as if he dragged his hands through the roots a few hundred times yet no stress coated his features, not a single wrinkle or crinkle besides a smile that has you loosening your grip on the table.

His direction leads him closer towards the coffee shop you sit in front of as a child runs across his front, stepping on one of his sneakers, an involuntary gasp escapes between your painted lips yet the Doctor takes no attention nor comment to them, simply continuing his way through the crowd. You hear his voice above all the afternoon commotion, his accent catching you off guard, "Say Donna, have you ever seen Paris or the South of France? I must say that this tower of theres is nothing in comparison to some of the future civilizations I've seen, I should, I will take you to one in the future or well, when we are done here."

The woman nods along to what he says, biting her lip, a knowing smile growing across her features as if she is cooking up a line to fire back, "Well the last time I was here was with you but we didn't really get to have a getaway besides running from those martians trying to KILL US! This is much better, oh!- did you see that woman's sandwich! How about lunch?"

Your eyes are wide as she tilts her head in your direction. You embody the appearance of a deer in headlights before swiftly unfolding the newspaper on the table, doing your best to read the various headlines with plausible interest.

The Doctor hums thoughtfully, looking to where Donna's eyes had landed, his eyes narrow in of the outrageously large paper that covers your face as he leans closer to Donna, "is that newspaper big, or is the woman just small?"

Donna laughs, knocking her shoulder with the Doctor as he shuffles back, head tipped down into a playful glare. "Well, spaceman. In comparison to you, anything appears larger than life."

"Do you want that sandwich or not?" The Doctor responds, eyes already bored and looking at the various other shops and people on the street, subconsciously looking for a threat to ruin the day.

"Well, yes-"

"Then lets get you that sandwich," and with that the Doctor is taking large strides up to your table. Curiosity brimming with excitement to uncover whoever was behind that paper. His heart rate began to climb, the walk now a light job as Donna wondered whatever has gotten into the Doctor.

--

You tense in preparation, saying your grievances underneath your breath as the man reaches forward, ripping the newspaper that had gradually been pressed closer to your face as he leaned closer to you. You pick up the book in your lap, spreading the pages wide open. Wincing once your fingers trace up the spine, finding a new crack upon its surface- that too is torn out of your hands.

In a childish effort- you close your eyes, hands racing across the tables surface before feeling the soft material of a serviette. Your plate clatters against the wooden table as you rip the cloth from underneath, waving it in the air to unfold it and subsequently into his face as he audibly complains. Swiftly opening your eyes, you look through the thin material, tracing over his blurry outline and hard-to-reach features while leaning back as far as your chair allows you too. Your feet hooking under the tables legs as only two chair legs hold you from toppling over.

The man huffs, his chair scraping against the pavement in a horrifying screech as your tableware clatters to the floor, bits and pieces of porcelain scraping across your leather shoes and socks. He peers over your napkin, eyebrow raised, brown-eyes peering to see your wide ones. You watch as his other eyebrow races to match the other, a small gasp escapes between his parting lips with fingers brushing against your own. He steals away the last of your cover, casting it aside to a nearby empty table.

The Doctor leans closer to listen to your hearts beating rapidly in your chest as he casts a hand down to feel his own. By the time he looks back up at you, a charming smile has one threatening to spread across your face but the Master's words make it fall the next moment as the Doctor gently clasps your hand between his own, taking the seat behind himself, pulling you forwards to sit level.

"Hello, darling," he whispers out, unsure if you are truly you as he awaits your answer. He squeezes your hand, ushering you to respond. You hate the way the pet-name makes you feel, the memories that flood your mind and all the time in between. A moment passes between you both before an approaching fiery-headed woman shifts your attention away from one another.

"DOCTOR? DOCTOR! What in the hells do you think you're doing?! Harassing this poor woman- oh I apologize dear, I have no idea what gotten into him today. I don't want that Sandwich in particular, just any sandwich!" Donna shouts out in the Doctors face. You wait for her to take him by the ear like a tired mom yet she smacks him on the back of his head as he drops your hand to ease the oncoming bruise.

With this distraction you quickly stand, throwing an unknown amount of currency on the table before darting down the crowded Paris streets. The Doctor curses underneath his breath lightly, "You don't understand, Donna!"

"What don't I understand? You going after some random human, is she a past companion or something?" Donna asks, eyes casting towards your empty seat that the Doctor glares at.

"Thats my wife!" The Doctor outbursts, grabbing your book and paper in hand before darting off after you, Donna running swiftly after the spaceman. "YOUR WHAT?!" Donna screams out between breaths.

"MY WIFE!"

"Don't you have five of those already?" She teases but the tone is peaked with genuine curiosity.

"Well yes- no. I don't know, they were the first!" The Doctor stumbles the words out, mind a fumbled mess at the sudden shock of you.

"The first, wait. Are they..." Donna's steps come to a halt as the Doctor casts his head back, steps slowing as they regain their breath, he hands your book and newspaper to Donna who holds onto the materials tightly. "...a time lord?"

"Yes..." the Doctor says in a remorseful tone. "....Yes, they are."

--

You lost where you last parked your Tardis as you turn down road after road, cars honking as you interrupt the traffic in your maddened dash. You keep your ears peaked for the two intruders to your centuries of peace. Your mind running a mile a minute for a plan that you assure yourself to be thinking of on the fly as you take another sharp turn, flying into someones arms.

They grip you still, smelling of aftershave and coffee with a dash of honey. You take in a deeper breath, curious to find the undertones before a chuckle has you pulling away, blinking rapidly as they hold onto your elbows and pull you into an empty shop under construction. You curse when seeing those familiar brown eyes, your hands drifting over the soft fabric of his jacket, feeling the small rips and seams before pulling away. Dusting your hands off on your pants, he moves his touch up to your shoulders, giving them a light shake.

"Why are you running, is there an emergency? A planet being overtaken, a universe about to explode?" He rattles off various answers for your selection yet you chose to remain silent. Ripping yourself away from his touch, you watch as his hands flex, itching to hold onto something, to someone, before he reaches into his jacket pocket as you do the same.

Two sonic screwdrivers are presented, shoving the glowing end into one another's presences. The door slams open and shut once more as Donna casts her arms wide and behind herself, blocking any potential escape. "Alright, lets gets things settled here, we don't need to me shoving our sonic screwdrivers at each other now!" Donna announces.

You wait for the Doctor to drop his first, eyes following as his hand open, his movements slow as he guides the technology back into his coat. He nods towards you, beckoning for you to do the same, your hands shake as you press it into your pant pocket for easier access. The Doctor raises a brow to this, looking back at Donna who's sights are set on you with pity.

The Doctor takes a step forwards, you shake your head, hands raised, your voice cracking, "You. Are. A. Monster! A Monster that has destroyed lives! You are in the midst of ruining another just now. If you would PLEASE just let me walk away I can promise you that I will do nothing- a personal moral of mine-"

The Doctors eyes gloss over, memories flash over himself. His arms feel heavy, shoulders slumping forwards as he remembers holding what he thought to be the second-to-last time lord in his arms, the Master as he died- unwilling to regenerate. "But here's the thing, I don't want to just 'let you walk away,' not with how I lost the last one- not when I am so close again to what could be," the Doctor pleads sincerity, his heart shattering at your words he knows a part to be true. But to hear them coming from who he surly believes to be you, it cuts him wounds him as you continuously step away from him as he nears.

The pain, the fear in your eyes, dictating your speech, he wishes to comfort you, hand raising to capture your outstretched one yet you quickly press your hands back into your chest. Right above your heart as it covering it for an attack. Donna sternly voices the Doctors name causing the man to pause in motion. Feet posed for another step, hand outstretched in a welcoming fashion, palm stretching outwards.

"Exactly. What COULD be. Couldn't have said it better myself, Doctor," you spit his name out, copying the Master's tone. "I'd say it even makes things easier on the both of us. Now please, let. me. go. Or better yet- kill me! Kill me right here, right now! I know you want to so just DO IT!" you scream out, words chocking on tears as you cough, hunching your form over. You feel so small, so hopeless as you look over to his companion, silently asking for her to convince him.

"No," the Doctor states firmly, hands now gripped into fists as he struggles to articulate his next words, looking over at Donna for support.

"Then I am sorry," you hush out softly before jumping up with all your strength as you cast a right hook across his nose. Blood pours over your knuckles as you fling your hand to remove the bodily fluid form your skin, making a mad dash towards the door.

You shout an apology to the human companion, having to shove 'Donna' you remember her name to be, out of the way and make your way back onto the streets. The Tardis had to be close, you think to yourself- the feeling in your gut starting to swell alongside your knuckles as you hissed through the pain, flinging yourself back towards your on-the-go home and pressing towards a random position. Pleading towards the console, anywhere but here, but now, with him- please.

--

"Wa-" The Doctor began to say before gripping his noise, casting his head upwards to try and stop the onslaught of blood. Tears cascaded down his features, creating a mess across his face as the liquids dropped down to his collard shirt and suit, staining the material for good.

Donna watched your escape through the window, you paid no mind to turn around, to take one last look no matter how hard your shoulders tensed or your neck tilted until you were out of sight. Shaking her head she walks over to the Doctor, reaching around in her pockets for a napkin as she presents the thin cloth to him.

The Doctor mumbles a thanks, beginning to wipe away at his face from his reflection in the glass. The air in the room is depleting as the Time Lord struggles to choke down air from the weight heaving in his chest. Donna rubs his back, watching as his back tenses before settling yet he refuses to look at her, only looking at the direction you fled in.

A few moments passes and the Doctor and Donna had yet to move form their positions, in a light tone, nervous to cut through the heavy silence too swiftly, Donna softly speaks, "You alright?"

The Doctor stands to full height, tissue dropping to the dirty floors beneath as he kicks away a loose bunch of screws. "I'm always alright." The Doctor nods- as if hyping himself up. He begins to make his way towards the door, looking back with a hand outstretched once more.

Donnas heartbreaks then and there as the spaceman smiles at her. She can see the pain in his eyes, the remnants of tears still in the corner of his eyes and the small sniffles he does his best to hide. She softly grasps his hand, giving it a squeeze. She listens to the breath he lets out shakily before leading them back out the door and in the opposite direction of you.

↳ A/N: what did you think? :)

[solarsa1nt]

𐚁֙࿐ TRAINING MISHAPS

ryōmen sukuna & itadori yuuji x fem!reader

Tags — fluff , sparring , noncon biting

Notes — none

With a quick swing of her leg, a startled yelp tears from Itadori's throat, stumbling backward as he makes a futile attempt to catch his balance before ultimately falling onto his back.

"Got you!" Y/N calls playfully, extending a hand out to the boy as she stands over him. "You really need to work on your reaction time, Itadori."

"Senpai..." Itadori pouts, but still accepts her hand without hesitation as he hoists himself up.

"Don't look at me like that, you'll make me feel bad." Y/N jokingly complains, looking away from the boy as she spares a look upwards at the sky— noting how the sun was starting to sink beneath the horizon.

"Hmm~" Y/N hums to herself in consideration, not noticing how Itadori watches her in confusion.

Honey eyes glance to the side to find whatever she's looking at only to find nothing other than the warm canvas of colors peering over the rustling trees.

"All right! One more round— if you can beat me this time, I'll owe you a favor, 'kay?" Y/N declares excitedly, moving her gaze back to Itadori with a competitive glint in her eyes.

Itadori blinks in surprise, mildly taken aback before he matches her grin with one of his own, "You're on!"

Unfortunately for Itadori, he ended up in the same position as every other time, thrown onto the floor with Y/N standing over him, a smug yet not quite mocking look on her face.

"You did really well for a beginner, y'know?" Y/N offers as an attempt at comfort, helping Itadori back to his feet once again. "You've only been here for like, what, a month?"

"Thanks, Y/N-senpai..." Itadori sighs, offering a weak smile to her.

"Ah, well now I feel bad!" Y/N complains, the boy's expression looking no better than a kicked puppy's would.

"Just get some rest, okay? I'll help you train again tomorrow, promise!" Y/N raises her hand to pet the boy's head affectionately.

Itadori looks away in embarrassment, face burning as he quickly nods. "Alri—"

She startles as Itadori's eyes droop shut, knees buckling as his body falls forward— knocking against Y/N's as the two tumble down to the ground.

E/C eyes blink open and shut in surprise, staring up at the sky above her in confusion as she feels light puffs of breath against her neck, lips only inches above the skin.

"Itadori?" Even as the words left her mouth, Y/N couldn't help but feel they were wrong.

What's the deal with this kid again...? Y/N wonders, eyebrows furrowing in thought as she tries to remember what Gojo told her.

He's... ah, right, a vessel... or something like that. Y/N recalls, although the reminder doesn't prove to be of much use as she doesn't know how to get Itadori to switch back.

What even prompted the change? Y/N wonders, vaguely noting how the curse on top of her still doesn't do anything other than hover.

"...If you're not gonna do anything, at least give control back to Ita—" Y/N cuts herself off, mouth snapping shut with a 'click' as she feels sharp teeth— fangs, would be more accurate, in all honesty —dig into her neck.

Y/N blinks in stunned silence, unsure how to react as a tongue laps over the wound, soothing the mild pain that came from it.

She isn't sure how long she stayed stunned into silence— it felt like hours as she attempted to process what just happened, although it was likely only a couple of seconds —before the curse finally raised his head.

Blood stains his teeth as he runs his tongue over them, four red eyes narrowed as he stares down at her, searching for something within her confused expression. Whatever it is, he seems to find it, because only a moment later a satisfied grin curls across his face.

Y/N doesn't get the chance to even open her mouth and ask why before his eyes widen— the top set flashing back to yellow as the bottom set unwillingly closes once again.

"Senpai! I, uh, sorry!" Itadori quickly backs away, scurrying off the girl as he bows his head till it touches the ground.

"...Well," Y/N starts with an ever-confused look, sitting up as one hand rubs at the bite mark on her neck absentmindedly, relieved to feel that it was no longer bleeding.

"Maybe focus on getting better control over... whoever your curse is before any more training." Y/N suggests, Itadori nodding along hurriedly as he raises his head.

Itadori's face turns red at the sight of the bite mark as he ducks his head down again, both as an apology and to hide his fluster. "I'm sorry!"

"Ah, don't... uh, don't worry about it." Y/N offers, although her words aren't convincing to even herself as she shakes her head.

"Just go get some rest, okay? I won't tell anyone about the switch today, just try not to let it happen again." Y/N sighs, not wanting to bother with reporting this— it's not like it's his fault, after all.

Besides, the curse didn't actually harm anyone, so she supposes it's fine to let it slide this once.

"A-Alright! Thank you!" Itadori agrees, quickly rising to his feet, bowing once more as an apology before quickly running past her.

Hearing a faint whisper as Itadori passes her, Y/N glances back at Itadori over her shoulder, confused to find the quickly hitting the side of his face before whispering insults to the back of his hand.

Huh... Y/N stares at the boy owlishly as he walks back into the school, standing in silence for a moment.

She should probably tell Gojo about this...

Y/N pauses at the thought, considering it for a passing moment before shrugging to herself. Oh well, no harm no foul.

Although she should probably find Ieiri and get her to heal the bite on her neck...

© 𝓢OLARSAINT 2024 ─── all of my works belong me alone! do not copy, steal, plagiarize, or spread any of my works in any other social media platform. these have only been reloaded on my own accounts on ao3 and wattpad

[rustys-lodge]

Hiii could u possibly write something about a little sister reader with sam and Dean? Maybe reader graduated highschool and the brothers are just so proud. When they called the readers name they screamed the loudest

Warnings : none, except if you're scared of pure fluff. And being lifted in the air by a loving father figure.

A/N : We're going to call this character Lily, alright ? We can't be your naming her all the time. Also can we talk about this perfect gif ?

----

"Come on, it's our turn."

With trembling feet, you stood up from your seat and followed your friend over to the stand, along with your other classmates, where stood 5 of your teachers as well as the director of your school.

You glanced over at the crowd, taking in the smiles and the claps of your best friends. And the sudden frantic claps of your idiot brothers. You would gasp, but you were standing in front of hundreds of people. And even though you could not control the sudden white wash that flooded your face, you tried your best to keep looking normal and collected.

"Lily Winchester."

Once it was your turn, your name erupted through the speakers. And sudden shouts of happiness filled the space.

"GO LILLYYY"

"WOO"

Oh my god....You knew this was going to happen...Of course they wouldn't listen to you.

As your face reddenned a deeper color, you quickened your pace walking down the stand, pursing your lips as to not spit out the most forbidden words at your joyfull looking brothers.

"You..idiots had to embar-"

Your scolding was interrupted by a sudden embrace, and you found yourself watching people fly by as you were swinging in the air.

"You did it, you annoying little monkey."

A set of lips jabbed your cheek before you're fully let go. And you couldn't stop yourself from smiling. But you still rolled your eyes at him.

"Whatever."

With a deep breath in, you turned around to take in the scene, watching as applause filled the room once again. Good energy roamed around. Specifically around y-

A tap on your shoulder snapped you back to life. You turned around to find yourself, yet again embraced tightly.

"I'm so proud of you, sweetheart. You did it." Sam whispered in your ear. And you kissed his neck in response, wrapping your arms around his back.

As flashbacks of the past few months rushed back, your fingers reflexively gripped Sam's back tighter. It's been hard. Really hard, on all of you, having to stay in the same place while being enemies with a lot of people around.

Sam and Dean having to leave you multiple times to go on weekly trips.

And most importantly, being a hunter/apprentice who had to wake up at 7am to get ready for school, and go home as late as 3am after a hunt.

Yeah. It's been hard.

You pulled away from Sam, flashing him a reassuring smile as you noticed a change in his own mood.

"Alright. Let's go home now."

"Uh..." You spun around, your eyes pivoting from Sam to Dean and then once again to Sam.

You were supposed to go out with your friends. How-why would he suddenly change his mind ?You pleadingly frowned your eyebrows, causing a chuckle to escape Sam's lips.

"He's just playing with you, sweetheart." Your shoulders slouched. Go."

Your shoulders slouched forward in annoyance.

He always gets you.

"Alright, i'll see you later, Sammy."

The latter chuckled lightly. "Have fuun."

As you turned on your heels, you glanced back over your shoulder, flashing Dean an eye-squinting dramatic glare.

"Home by 11, kid."

-----

Is there a remedy agaisnt one's own cringy endings ? Not sure. Anyways, hope yall enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it. Xoxo ❤️❤️❤️⚘️⚘️⚘️

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 73

Part 1 Part 72

Steve clutches Eddie and Will tighter to him. He can feel the warmth of their skin beneath their clothes, so warm against the November air that it burns. He clutches them tighter still, hoping he can immolate himself on their warmth, let that golden light in.

The kids are all yelling behind him, asking questions he doesn’t have answers to. Their faces blur together, as do their names, consumed slowly by the thing he can feel in the back of his head. It’s an ice pick through his brain. He wants to lean into it, even as he rubs his cheek into Eddie’s chest, the zipper biting roughly into his jaw.

“It got me,” he murmurs, words buzzing through Eddie’s heartbeat.

Eddie runs his fingers through Steve’s hair, pulls his face up by a fistfull of it to meet his eye. It stings. Steve wants to rub against it like an affection-starved cat. “What was that, sweetheart?”

Steve looks into his deep, brown eyes, and tries to keep them in his mind past the cold all around. “I can feel it,” he says. “It got me.”

Eddie’s biting his lip, blanching it white around his teeth. Without thought, Steve reaches out his pointer finger and pulls it down until it springs free. Eddie swallows audibly, Adam's apple bobbing with the movement. Steve sort of wants to bite it until he tastes blood.

“Should we go to Dr. Owens?” Will asks.

Steve whips his head to the side quick enough that Will lurches back a bit, falling out of the pile their bodies make and into the grass. Steve wants to reach out and drag him back. The through-line between them feels frozen, made brittle by the cold. Like if he pulled just a little too hard the whole thing would snap with catastrophic blowback for them both. But–

“I’m not going to a doctor,” he says. So vehement that it barely sounds like his voice at all.

Will shuffles back a little farther, hands outstretched and empty.

Eddie sits up, holding Steve beneath the armpits like he’s a toddler being carried. He sets him down right in front of Eddie and grabs his bare hand. It’s so scorching, it burns. Steve clutches on, watching tight-lipped as Eddie reaches his open hand out for Will’s own, making a fucked up little circle full of fucked up little people.

Whatever moment Eddie’s trying to create pops when one of the kids surrounding them opens her mouth.

“You should go to the doctor,” she says, clutching a skateboard to her chest when everyone turns to look at her. “What? That wasn’t normal!”

Steve looks at her, tries to make the lines of her face resolve into a memory, any memory at all. It doesn’t work. “Who are you?” he asks.

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, random girl, I get it,” she says, throwing her hands in the air as she storms away, throwing a biting, “leave me out of your freaky shit, then. What do I care!”

Once she’s on the sidewalk in front of the school, she drops her skateboard to the ground, jumps on it and skates away, jumping showily over the split on the sidewalk, big enough to lose a quarter in.

“So cool,” one of the kids mutters, the curly-haired one. Dustin? He has a brief flash of the kid sitting at the edge of a bed with white sheets, bouncing in excitement, before it fades back.

“She’s right, though,” another kid says, crossing his arms and glaring down at Steve haughtily. He’s like a judgemental raincloud, and Steve would know, he can feel one pushing him out of his head right now. “You need to go to the doctor.”

Something unfurls in Steve’s head. He wants to reach his hands out and wrap around the kid’s neck like a snake. He wants to squeeze and squeeze and squeeze. But Eddie’s still holding his hand, skin so hot that it hurts. So he doesn’t.

“I’m not going,” he says, standing up, his grip on Eddie’s hand pulling him up as well, leaving Will to scramble up behind them, hanging on tightly to Eddie’s hand as Steve leads the procession away from the kids and back toward the high school.

“Where are we going?” Will asks, voice small and frightened.

Steve squeezes Eddie’s hand like Will can feel it. Eddie squeezes back. “I’m going home.”

No one says anything as they walk up the sidewalk, as they reach the school, as Eddie presses Steve into the passenger seat, and Will into the back before climbing into the driver’s side.

He drives them all home.

The heat in the van’s been busted since he met Eddie, barely trickling heat out of the vents no matter how high Eddie blasts it. Steve settles in, letting the chill of his skin and the comfort of Eddie’s familiar music fill him up.

His first view of the trailer hits like a breath of relief. Home, home, home.

The heat in the trailer works. When Eddie opens the door, leading Steve by the waist into its comfortably familiar interior, the heat of the place hits Steve in the face, making him gasp.

He shakes out of Eddie’s grasp, already breathless, walks to the thermostat and turns it down until the heat clicks off entirely. He goes to the little window in the kitchen, and the window in their bedroom, opens them both, letting the chill in.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asks, as Steve makes his way to the bathroom, opening that window as well. Steve brushes past him, propping the door open like his Father taught him to make sure the air circulates.

Will’s voice murmurs from the kitchen, telling someone where he is and that he’s fine and that he loves them. Steve only realizes he was on the phone when he hears the familiar click of the receiver being put down.

“Steve?” Eddie says. Steve looks back at him. “What are you doing?”

Will walks out of the kitchen, silent enough that Steve wouldn’t have noticed him hovering partially behind the separation wall if it wasn’t for the brittle line connecting them, even still. His eyes are wide, face pale as he looks at Steve desperately. Steve wishes he knew what the kid wanted, but his head feels so full, it’s going to burst, so he just says, “he likes it cold.”

Somehow, Will’s eyes get even wider at that, pupils darting over to where Eddie’s still hovering at the threshold of the bathroom. Eddie’s holding up one of his curls above his mouth, the way he always does when he’s embarrassed or bashful, but his eyes are wide and wet and sad. Steve takes a step toward him, hand outstretched.

Something unfurls within him when Eddie takes his hand, even as it burns burns burns.

“Who likes it cold?” Eddie asks quietly, a secret between the three of them.

Steve looks into his eyes, says nothing. He knows they both know who he means, can see the recognition in Eddie’s face. Still, he looks up, like he’ll be able to see it still, now, even here.

All he sees is the gaudy yellow of the Munson’s ceiling, like the warm light glow of the sun is cracking through and shining down on them, even as the clouds outside clap open and pour down on the shitty metal shingles.

Eddie squeezes his hand, linking their fingers more securely like he never wants to let go. “Okay, Steve,” he says, even quieter still. Steve doubts Will can hear it from where he’s still hovering on the outskirts of the kitchen. “We’ll figure this out. I promise.”

He raises Steve’s hand to his lips, sears a burning kiss across his hand and then drops them back down to dangle in the minute space separating them.

Steve wonders what there is to fix. This is how it was always going to go, how it’s supposed to be. Steve closes his eyes, and feels the shadows slither within.

Part 74

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @wonderland-girl143-blog @nerdsconquerall

[lipglossanon]

Mutual Future

•~•°•——— 🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔 ———•°•~•

crossover feat. Las Plagas!Leon and Shape Shifter/Wendigo!Leon

Warnings: one mention of eating people, snarky Leon

just a silly idea I had; don’t know if I’ll add onto it or not, just wanted to write this 😆

Title from Mututal Future (Repeat) by Djo 💜

•~•°•——— 🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔 ———•°•~•

It’s eerie. 

“We could be twins,” the woman in front of you whispers, eyes wide as they stare at you. 

You nod, “Basically what I was thinking.”

Staring at one another, you take in this doppelganger in the middle of a random antique store you decided to visit. Well you and—

“Mate!”

Two identical voices call out from separate directions and to your amazement, your uncanny twin turns along with you. 

You smile at Leon as he steps up beside you, but your mouth drops open in surprise to see his double next to your look alike.

Leon’s duplicate has a more sinister look to him compared to the sweet smile on your Leon. 

Your twin turns from her Leon to look at you, “Is he a shape shifter too?”

Her Leon scoffs with a roll of his eyes, “He fucking wishes. Smells like some weird bug.”

Your Leon shrugs easily, stepping up behind you to nuzzle into your neck, “At least I don’t eat people.”

It can’t be any weirder, you think to yourself as Leon’s twin sneers over at him before tugging your duplicate into his arms. His eyes flash over to you and you swear they’re different now— slitted pupils in his ocean blue gaze.

“Your mate could do better,” he sniffs haughtily. 

At that remark, Leon tenses and snaps his head up to face his mirror image. Your look alike gasps and you glance down to see his hands shifting into claws as the black veins creep up his arms. 

“I’m so lucky to be your mate, Leon,” you coo, turning to face him, slipping your hands up to his shoulders, “and I’m all yours, right?”

He relaxes in your hold, attention swapping back to you with a boyish grin, “Mm hmm.”

You mentally sigh as he reverts back to his usual self. Turning, you see the pair watching you with interest. Your “twin” gives you a smile of understanding while the other Leon keeps his face unreadable, strange eyes darting between you and the man behind you.

“Neat little party trick,” he breaks out into a smirk, copying Leon’s changes onto his own body. 

Your eyes stare as his arms slowly shift into claws complete with black veins creeping up his skin. 

“What the hell,” you whisper, looking over at your double who only shrugs. 

“He’s an asshole, sorry about that,” she sighs. 

“Hey!” You watch as he pouts at her like a little kid, “I really do think it’s a neat trick.”

Within the blink of an eye, he goes back to normal. 

He grins at your Leon, “You seem like a lot of fun.”

Your duplicate sighs loudly and grabs his bicep, “With that it’s time to go. It was lovely meeting you two, please don’t hold him against me.”

She shoots you a heartfelt smile paired with a little wave as she drags Leon’s copycat with her. 

“You never let me have any new friends,” is the last thing you hear before they’re out of sight.

“That was really weird, right?” You spin around to face Leon.

He’s staring at where the two were before shifting his eyes back to you, “Very strange. You still want to go on this road trip?”

Your heart flutters and you give him a shy smile, “Yeah, I want to. We’ve been planning it for weeks.”

He ducks down to drop kisses on your cheeks and lips making you giggle. 

“Okay, okay,” you laugh and push him back, “let’s get out of here.”

“Anything you say.”

[space-invading-pigeon]

One Two Three

Vecna is incensed when Pelor returns, and not because he'd been on his own. "You left them alive!" Vecna snarls, the exposed muscles of his face and neck pulled taut in his frustration. "The were right there! You could have finished them!" "They are children, Vecna, perhaps we could-" "They are a threat!" "Children!" "You need to get rid of them-" "Mind your tone, Vecna, I am not to be disrespected," Pelor growls; he can feel his eyes flashing dangerously, can feel the air grow hot with his anger. Vecna falls silent, his eyes sharp with displeasure. "I don't think we need to kill them. We can convince them to turn, they're children." "... How do you propose we do that, lord?" Vecna's response is strained, tight. Steve- er, Pelor- relaxes a bit. "They seem to be reminded of a fallen comrade when they speak to me," he announces. "I think I can show them the truth. Fighting will be futile, they'll see that if I just speak to them."

*****

"Dustin, he's gone, there's no way that he's still Steve in there, he attacked Jonathan," Mike argued, smacking his fist against the table. They'd reconvened at the Byers' home, as always; Robin and Eddie stayed with the kids, while Nancy, Hop, and Joyce took Jonathan to the hospital.

"That's not fair, Mike, you never gave up on Eddie!" Dustin shouted, shoving himself back to stand from the table.

"Eddie never tried to kill one of us!"

"Actually, I did," Eddie interrupted softly. "Twice." Mike wilted a little, leaning closer to Will.

"Well- well you never hurt us!" He tried to argue, but Eddie shook his head.

"I did, Mike. Remember? I broke Lucas's wrist, and I almost killed Dustin. If it hadn't been for Steve and El, neither of them would be here." Eddie tugged on one of his curls, expression absent. El nodded from the couch, holding up the 'rock on' gesture that Eddie had recently taught her.

"But-"

"Dude, can you chill? We know you don't like Steve, but he's one of us," Lucas admonished, making Mike blush.

"He hurt Jonathan!"

"No, Vecna hurt Steve. Steve doesn't know that he knows us, remember? When Dustin and Eddie tried his song, he stopped fighting. He ran away," Will piped up, voice soft but firm. "And when he attacked us before, he ran away as soon as he saw Jonathan. He was hurt, and Steve freaked out. He's still in there, Mike."

Mike didn't say anything for a moment, floundering for an argument. It was possibly the closest they'd seen Mike to tears since 1984. "Well- well he's still a piece of shit!" He finally snapped, storming out of the dining room and down the hall.

Silence reigned for a few minutes after Mike's departure. This time, Robin was the one to break it.

"So... I still can't tell if Mike hates Steve or has a crush on him," she noted quietly, making the kids snort (not laugh- they were all much too jaded to laugh at the moment.).

"Crush, definitely," Max decided immediately.

******

Will, Max, Lucas, Mike, and El had fallen asleep sometime during the movie Robin put on. Robin stayed in with them, waiting by the phone for any update on Jonathan.

Dustin and Eddie stepped out around midnight. They didn't go anywhere, just on the porch, while Eddie smoked a cigarette. Gods, he needed it; two Steve sightings in a week after almost a year of nothing, and both times Steve hadn't really come home. Dustin was just as exhausted, leaning forward on his knees as he watched the sky.

"We'll get him back, right, Eddie?" Dustin asked weakly. Eddie had to nod, despite his own growing doubts.

"He can't leave us, Henderson," he consoled. "He's- he's lost. Vecna's got him all turned around, but we can get him back. His song, remember?"

"His stupid, thirty-year-old Elvis song," Dustin snorted, wiping his nose on his sleeve. Eddie chuckled softly, using his whole body to nudge Dustin.

"Don't talk shit about the King, Henderson, this is the only thing we can't make fun of Steve for."

"It's a love song, Eddie."

"It's a good song, Dustin!" Eddie smiled a little wider when Dustin made a noise that could almost be called a laugh, proud to have brought Dustin out of his melancholic mood.

As Dustin calmed, his mood sank a little more. "Eddie... If he's not- not Steve, right now, than who is he?"

"Is that some kind of riddle I'm supposed to solve?"

"No, numbnuts, I mean, like, when you weren't you, you were Kas. Vecna's general. But Steve's not like you were, it's almost like- almost like he's being influenced, but not controlled." Eddie hummed at this, nodding slowly. "So who is he?"

"Just looking at him, he looks more like a general than I ever did-"

"Eddie, whatever they did to you, you still have fangs-"

"-but he's also not as... dark. Not as cold either; have you noticed he glows?" Eddie shook his head. "Anyway. The glowing, the warmth, the way that things grow around him, which is way different than them dying like things usually do from the Upside Down.... I'd say he's Pelor."

"Pelor? But Pelor is benign, what's he doing fighting us?"

"That's where Vecna's influence must come in. He tried to-to corrupt Steve, and he couldn't, so he just... confused him." Eddie drummed his fingers together, thinking hard. "It's like- like Vecna's cast Confusion on him. We just have to break the spell."

"But if he's never here long enough for us to use the song- he ran away last time, if we can't keep him around, how can we break the curse?" Dustin asked, face furrowed in thought. "How do we get him back if every time we try, he disappears?"

"We make it so he can't disappear," Eddie supplied. "We need to convince him that he's safe with us, like a feral cat- yeah, exactly like a cat! Baby steps, we make sure he knows he's safe with us, and we can get him back."

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

I think maybe one or two more parts and this will be over???

Tags: @amoris-no-smut-allowed @swimmingbirdrunningrock

[storm-angel989]

If you have time, I'd love to see how you write Val finding his teenaged daughter in hell, who succumbed to depression before his death? Iykwim ❤️

Hi friend,

Yes, absolutely! And I know very well what you mean. Please know that you’re never alone, and my inbox (or messaging) is always open to chat. Even in your darkest hour, I promise you, life gets better. And even if you feel like you have no one, you have me! And I’m nothing more than a quick message away. <3 

<3 Mandy

Valentino’s stomach sank as he watched the images on Vox’s multitude of screens. He knew his daughter struggled on Earth, knew she missed him, his presence, even though she only knew him for a short time in life. He knew what she could never- that depression, self hatred and medicating with substances, both legal and illegal, ran deep in their bloodline. 

“When did she fall?” He demanded. “And how long has she been here?”

“Well. Oz called. Says he owns her soul, just like he does yours,” Vox replied. “So, that’s a relief. Better than one of the other sins getting their hands on her. Looks like she’s just about ready to get out of holding, if you want me to send the limo? She’s your kid, technically, so…”

“So my responsibility. I know my contract well,” Valentino snapped as he turned around. “Tell housekeeping to set up the spare room. I’ll pick her up myself.” 

With that, one of the most powerful overlords in hell swept off to pick up his daughter. As he stepped out into the same holding area he himself had been in not too far into the distant past, he grimaced. It was an uncomfortable place, and even more so for a teenage girl. He scanned the area and suddenly, his eyes fell to her. 

Reader. 

“Over here, bebita,” he said out loud. “Reader, over here.”

“Daddy?” she asked as her eyes met his. Relief flooded her features. “Daddy! You look…you look different.”

He watched as her eyes started to water and he stepped forward as he opened his arms. To his relief, she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. As much as Valentino had missed the feeling of her in his arms, the fact that she was here broke his heart. 

“Daddy, you’re…they said you were dead! How…” she began.

“I know baby. It’s a lot to take in,” he said gently as he laid an arm around your shoulder. “Let’s take you to your new home. We can talk about it on the way there.” 

He kept his arm around her in the limo, and tried not to let his heart break as she cried onto his shoulder. He listened as she swore she never meant to do it, never meant to take it that far. Desperate for the relief of the mental anguish that infected every waking moment of her life on Earth, she had taken it a step too far. It pained him to hear her speak, the guilt in her voice overwhelming. He knew what she would ask before she did, and he swallowed as he tried to draw up words, anything that would offer comfort to her. 

“I want to go back home, Daddy,” she begged. “Mom, my friends, I…”

“I’m sorry honey, this is your home now,” he told her gently. “You’ll have a good home, I promise. I…I can’t take you back. I’m sorry.” 

“Daddy, the pain didn’t stop,” she sobbed into him. “I still, I…”

“The pain doesn’t stop just because your life on Earth did,” he replied quietly. “We can get you help, there are resources, and Daddy will take care of you. But sweetheart, you don’t get a second chance at life up there.” 

He knew it would take awhile for her to accept it as fact. And he knew she would need help- more than he alone could provide. With one arm around her shoulder, he sent a quick message to Vox directing him to set up appointments beginning the following day. Until then, he would do everything in his power to protect her- even if it meant he had to protect her from herself. 

The closer they got to home, the guilt that he knew consumed her slowly wrapped its way around his own heart. It took every single fiber of self control to bite back the should haves, the what ifs. Flashes of his own death, buried in the throes of depression and addiction. He held her tighter and kissed the top of her head as he gently cradled her against him. 

“It will be okay princessa,” he said quietly. “Daddy is here.”

[katnissmellarkkk]

AN: I always see the take that Gale thought of Prim as his own family, his own sister, his own child. And I’ve just always felt like it was an exaggeration, not anything that was proven canonically. I appreciate headcanons but I feel like that one is just very widely accepted so I decided to isolate all the Prim/Gale interactions from the series to basically just put all the facts out there and let anyone decide for themselves if Gale really thought of Prim as his own flesh and blood, or if she was just the kid sister of his best friend/crush. I think it’s apparent that I’m obviously in the latter group. But I may be the only one who interprets it this way so lemme know. But don’t turn this into an argument.

Also @rosegardeninwinter encouraged this.

-

“Prim left us a cheese.” I pull it out.

His expression brightens at the treat. “Thank you, Prim. We’ll have a real feast.” Suddenly he falls into a Capitol accent as he mimics Effie Trinket, the maniacally upbeat woman who arrives once a year to read out the names at the reaping.

-

“Leave the district. Run off. Live in the woods. You and I, we could make it,” says Gale.

I don’t know how to respond. The idea is so preposterous.

“If we didn’t have so many kids,” he adds quickly.

They’re not our kids, of course. But they might as well be. Gale’s two little brothers and a sister. Prim. And you may as well throw in our mothers, too, because how would they live without us? Who would fill those mouths that are always asking for more? With both of us hunting daily, there are still nights when game has to be swapped for lard or shoelaces or wool, still nights when we go to bed with our stomachs growling.

“I never want to have kids,” I say.

“I might. If I didn’t live here,” says Gale.

“But you do,” I say, irritated.

“Forget it,” he snaps back.

The conversation feels all wrong. Leave? How could I leave Prim, who is the only person in the world I’m certain I love?

-

I can feel someone pulling her from my back. I turn and see Gale has lifted Prim off the ground and she’s thrashing in his arms. “Up you go, Catnip,” he says, in a voice he’s fighting to keep steady, and then he carries Prim off toward my mother.

-

Gale offered to carry [Lady]. I think he wanted to see the look on Prim’s face as much as I did. In a moment of complete giddiness, I bought a pink ribbon and tied it around her neck. Then we hurried back to my house.

-

“She’ll understand. I watched a lot of the Games with her and Prim. She won’t say no to you,” says Gale.

-

“Prim?” I gasp.

“She’s alive. So is your mother. I got them out in time,” he says.

-

He herded those he could in its direction, including my mother and Prim.

-

Then I hear it. The faint sound of footsteps on the stairs. “We’re coming!” I hear my sister call.

“Hold the door!” That was Gale.

“They’re coming!” I tell the guards, and they slide the doors open about a foot. But I don’t dare move — afraid they’ll lock us all out — until Prim appears, her cheeks flushed with running, hauling Buttercup. I pull her inside and Gale follows, twisting an armload of baggage.

-

Despite the disagreeable conditions, I’m glad to have time with my sister. My extreme preoccupation since I came here — no, since the first Games, really — has left little attention for her. I haven’t been watching over her the way I should, the way I used to. After all, it was Gale who checked our compartment, not me.

-

“Was it your bomb?”

“I don’t know. Neither does Beetee,” he says. “Does it matter? You’ll always be thinking about it.”

He waits for me to deny it; I want to deny it, but it’s true. Even now I can see the flash that ignites her, feel the heat of the flames. And I will never be able to separate that moment from Gale. My silence is my answer.

“That was the one thing I had going for me. Taking care of your family,” he says.

-

[eskawrites]

12? 👀

12. "Look at me."

Robin knew, even before the demodogs burst through the door of Hopper's run-down shack, that their luck was going to run out. After all, they could only hope to survive for so long without Nancy.

And now their time seems to be up. They've retreated into one of the back rooms, Jonathan and Steve standing between the kids and the door. Steve gives his bat a nervous swing. Jonathan aims the revolver at the door, ready to shoot at whatever comes through, but it looks too small in his hand, awkward and ineffective.

And utterly useless, of course, when the door opens and Nancy is the one to walk in.

"Nance," he whispers. She scowls at him, her black eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Where is Eleven?" Nancy's voice has changed since Vecna took her. It pitches lower, deep and heavy in a way it only ever got when she was tired or angry and willing to let her guard down. It reminds Robin of late nights, of quiet moments with just the two of them. It reminds her of everything she's lost just because Vecna realized he could take their strongest soldier for his own.

Jonathan adjusts his grip on the gun. "Come on, Nance, snap out of it."

Nancy's eyes flash. Robin sees her shoulders tense, sees her feet shift, sees her make up her mind a split second before anyone else.

She moves at the same time Nancy does, running forward and shoving her before she can draw and aim her pistol. They crash hard to the floor, tangled together for a moment until Nancy manages to flip them. Robin's head smacks against the wood flooring. When she looks up, everything is blurred except for the look of fury on Nancy's face.

Nancy presses the gun to her chest. Robin hears the others cry out, hears Steve running forward. She holds her hand out, waving them off as best as she can.

"Nance," she breathes. She looks up at her, out of breath and helpless. Nancy's eyes are black, staring unfeelingly back at her.

But she doesn't fire. That has to mean something.

It has to.

"Nancy," Robin tries again. Nancy's mouth twitches. She presses the gun harder to her chest. "This isn't you."

Nancy's mouth twists into a snarl. Her free hand comes up to tangle in Robin's hair, pulling until Robin has to bite back a cry of pain. She leans in close and growls, "You don't know me."

"I do," Robin whispers. She can feel tears stinging her eyes, though she isn't sure if it's from pain or fear or the sheer desperation of her words. "I do, Nance, and you know me."

"Enough--"

"Nancy, please, look at me. Just look at me." Nancy hesitates, and Robin reaches up to clutch her wrist--not pulling or pushing, just holding, just clinging to her for dear life. "See me, the way only you can."

Nancy's grip on her hair loosens. Robin can feel her shaking on top of her.

"Because I see you," Robin whispers. "I see you. Not him."

"Robin." Her name is silent on Nancy's lips, but it's there. Robin rubs her thumb along Nancy's wrist, watching tears pool in her eyes. "Robin, I--"

She jerks, pulling the gun back and throwing it across the room. Everyone starts moving, chaos filling the room again. Steve runs forward and grabs Nancy's arms, yanking them behind her back. Max runs in with a syringe, and Jonathan takes it and carefully steps up behind Nancy.

And all the while, she just stares at Robin, tears falling silently down her face now.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "Robin. I never--I don't want--"

Robin reaches up and cradles her face. "Look at me, Nance."

Nancy does, blinking away tears to see her clearly. Robin keeps holding on, keeping her steady as Jonathan sinks the needle into her neck. Nancy doesn't even wince.

"It's okay," she breathes. "We've got you, Nance. You're going to be okay."

[koraidonfrompokemon]

Hello! Hope you're having a great day!

I was wondering if I could request a Giacomo x Reader where the reader admires him but is too shy and nervous to talk to him

Hello! Thank you so much for being my first person to write something for! I had a lot of fun writing this and hopefully our boy isn’t too ooc. Reminder that my writing and headcanon requests are open!!!

Tw for bullying, mentions of blood, cursing

You had admired Giacomo and his gang for a while now.

Seeing how he specialized in dark types made you hopeful. You’d always wanted to use them. Studying and learning all about them. People told you they were too dangerous to tame. You didn’t listen though.

One day, you were hanging out in the schoolyard with your partner pokemon. A Houndour the school had given you. You are a quiet and reserved kid. No one really bothered you and your partner pokemon kept it that way. Always chasing off anyone who got too close. You didn’t mind it though. Gave you a reason not to talk to anyone.

When you saw Giacomo though, that all changed. He was charming in his own weird way. Always trying to get others to listen to his music and making remixes of the school’s theme. The teachers didn’t like him all that much nor did many of the students. A small gang of rebellious students followed him around though. Always cheering him on and standing up for him.

You sometimes wished you were brave enough to do something so rebellious. At least be able to stand up for yourself and others. You weren’t though. So you watched them from afar. Always wanting to approach him and talk. That faithful day came though. The day where Giacomo approached you.

Some of the students liked to bully you. Always calling you names and teasing you for being quiet. Occasionally they’d make fun of you for wanting to be a dark-type specialist. Saying that the pokemon you wanted to tame would kill you. Including the harmless Houndour you loved. They never got physical though. At least until recently.

You had been sitting in the schoolyard on a bench in a corner. Eating lunch with your pokemon. Suddenly you were pushed over. Landing face first onto the hard ground. As you tried to get your bearings, your pokemon growled and snapped at the bullies.

“Aww would you look at that,” they taunted. “The dangerous pokemon is trying to protect his freak of an owner.”

You pulled your Houndour closer. Ignoring the pain you felt from falling on your nose.

“She wouldn’t hurt a fly,” you told them.

They just laughed.

“All dark types are killers. That thing is just waiting for the right moment to snap.”

Some students had appeared. Watching you and your bullies. You didn’t have the guts to stand up for yourself though. Especially not in front of all of these people. So you just held onto your Houndour. Praying that they’d leave you alone. A familiar voice broke through the laughter.

“Hey! Leave them alone!”

Looking up from your pokemon, you saw a guy approach. Wearing a black coat with a yellow vest underneath. Headphones perched around his neck and computer in hand. He was pointing toward your bullies with a pokeball in hand.

“Oh great it’s Giacomo,” one of the bullies said. “What do you want freak?”

“Nothing much,” Giacomo said with a smirk. “Just going to lay down some sick beats on you.”

He then threw out his Pawniard. The pokemon charged the bullies with a flash of its blades. Unlike the mean and uncaring attitude they put on while bullying you, they screamed like little girls and scrambled out of the way. Tripping over each other in an attempt to not get cut. The Pawniard did not have a single look of malice as it chirped. Continuing to chase them around with a smile. You couldn’t help but laugh at the spectacle before you. Giacomo was chuckling too. Finally, the bullies scrambled for the stairwell. Giacomo’s Pawniard gave them one last flash of its blades before running back to its trainer.

“I’m telling Clavell what you did!”

Giacomo laughed.

“Tell him I said hello!”

The bullies then disappeared down the stairwell. The few students that were watching also laughed. They soon dispersed though as Giacomo gave them a glare. Taking it as a warning. Giacomo then approached you. Holding out a tissue.

“Hey, you’re bleeding. That’s not cool.”

Touching underneath your nose, sure enough, you were bleeding.

“Ah, thank you…”

You then put the tissue to your nose. He held out a hand to you. At first, you thought your Houndour would growl at him. She didn’t though. Just casually sniffing him. You took his hand and he helped you up. Making sure you didn’t fall over due to blood loss.

As you stood next to him, you realized what had just happened. Giacomo, your idol, had saved you from some bullies. A blush came to your face.

“You okay?”

“Y…yeah! Totally peachy! Haha!”

He didn’t seem to notice your blush.

“I should teach them a better lesson. Hey, at least you’re okay.”

You just nodded.

“Yeah…”

Your Houndour then jumped up on his leg. Startling him a bit.

“Oh?” He asked as he bent down to pet her with his free hand. “Who is this cutie?”

Damn her for making you talk more to him.

“Uh, she’s my Houndour. My partner pokemon.”

Giacomo smiled.

“A great partner to have. Dark types may seem mean and aggressive but they’re just sweethearts.”

He continued to pet your Houndour. She was acting like she never had any problems with other people before. He soon stopped petting her though.

“Well, I better get going. Clavell is going to lose his shit once he sees me. Saying stuff on how I should become a better student and all that crap.”

Giacomo then held out his hand toward you.

“Call me if you ever need help. Hell, even if you just want to join Team Star. My number isn’t too hard to find.”

You then shook his hand. After shaking it, he gave you a salute and walked off. Disappearing from sight.

Still shaken from the encounter, you looked down at your hand. A piece of paper with a phone number now perfectly placed on your palm. You couldn’t help but blush again.

Man was he smooth.

[future-journalist-adventures]

Inside my Head - A Collection of Short Stories

"Silent"

experience or daydream: experience

characters: me, "my friend" (🌘), classmates, substitute teacher

setting: mid-April; Friday afternoon; high school

content warnings: queerphobia

Vibrant colors danced through the hallway as a content smile spread across my face. The bassline of the upbeat music I blasted through my headphones vibrated in every inch of my body as I absentmindedly walked to the beat; the muffled sounds of other kids talking and laughing could be heard beneath the sound of the music. I watched as my friend and I walked in sync, resisting the urge to comment on it. I glanced over at the large black pin my friend was sporting, with the LGBTQ+ flag in the middle and the words “Silence is Loud” printed across it, before carefully adjusting my own matching pin. He flashed me a small smile, which I returned almost instinctively as we walked side-by-side into our biology classroom.

I turned off my music, taking my headphones off of my head and setting them down on my neck. My friend and I began to cross the room to put our things down at our seats, only to find something that would wipe the smiles right off of both of our faces. 

My heart seemed to stop for a moment. My stomach dropped, and the content feeling I once possessed had somehow vanished. I gaped breathlessly, watching as my classmates passed around a crumpled flyer with the same design as our pins, laughing at and mocking it. 

One of them glanced at my friend and I’s pins, going quiet for a moment before scoffing and smirking, holding out the flyer for both of us to see.

“So-” he began, still laughing, “are you guys really not allowed to talk?”

My friend and I exchanged nervous glances before slipping past them wordlessly.

My attempts to calm myself down, and to hide how much I was shaking now, were quickly failing. I shot the substitute teacher a desperate glance only to find that she hadn’t looked up from her desk at all. Sitting down at my desk, I replayed the scene in my head and watched as the kids continued their insensitive mockery.

As I finally began to calm myself down, I heard the sound of something hitting the floor, followed by an eruption of laughter. My head snapped up to see the flyer, now completely rolled into a ball, laying on the floor next to my friend’s desk. They quickly snatched it from the ground and stuffed it in their bag. Their head was turned away from me so I couldn’t see his face, but somehow I felt I knew exactly what they were thinking.

40 minutes later, the last bell of the day rang, signaling the end of our day of silence. But as I walked with my friend out of the room, across the hall, and up the stairs, we stayed silent: not because we had to, but because there was nothing left to say.

[stayandot8]

Day One

Genre: fluff

Relationship type: idol!Chan x actress!reader, best friends

Important Contents: a continuation of an ask someone made in my inbox. I hope you enjoy it the second time around as much as the first.

WC: 1.1k

Part One l masterlist

Chan: If you’re going to drag me to a promo shoot on my day off, the least you can do is feed me.

Me: Straight through the gray doors and take a right. Snack table should be easy to spot. 

“That’s great, you two!” “Just move your arm closer to her- yes, that’s it!” 

This cameraman was going to drive me bananas. 

My poor co-star had been running late, like the true actor he was. He showed up very apologetic though, so it was hard to be upset when I had nothing else to do that day. So I chatted up the cameraman, which had been my first mistake. He was indeed a very chatty man, talking about nothing but his work and how he had done this huge magazine with idols left and right, how he’d had their phone numbers before they left. I almost scoffed. I had eight of them in my contact list and that was enough for me. They were annoying enough as it was. 

Now, my co-star and I were standing in front of a screen, meant to be in place of a rooftop and so close to kissing, yet not quite. His hands were around me, almost touching my shoulders to hold me close, my dress bunching up with how close he was indeed holding onto me. I thought I might fall over. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed a door open and close and true to his text, Chris idled closer to the snack table until he found something he took. I fought from rolling my eyes. He stayed near the back and watched, staring not at me, but at the man holding me or trying to. His brows were close together in a permanent state of what seemed to be confusion and disgust. His lips were slightly pursed, further my assumption. 

After more flashes of the camera, the man behind it called for a short break to look over some of the shots and change lenses. I scurried over to Chan, who was still watching my co-star, even as I stood right in front of him. I looked back to make sure he wasn’t doing anything wild, but he wasn’t. He was just standing there, talking to his manager. I turned back to Chris and snapped my fingers in front of his face. He broke from his trance and looked me up and down, assessing what to make fun of first. 

“For a 90s show, the wardrobe is surprisingly modern.” 

“This dress actually came from a shop that sells these kinds of clothes, alright? I’m not complaining though. It's the most comfortable costume I’ve had. You remember those bunny costumes from that kids show, don’t you?” We both shuddered at the memory. Chris looked back over my shoulder. I rolled my eyes. “Oh, would you stop? He’s harmless. In fact, I think he has a wonderful boyfriend that you might know actually. I think he’s an idol.” 

“I don’t like how close he was to you.” He crossed his arm in front of him, like he was holding something in. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“It was a kissing scene, Chan. Come on, lighten up.”

“Why does he have to have his hands wrapped around you like that? It doesn’t look natural.”

“Oh yeah? How should he do it then?” My eyebrow rose on its own, challenging him. I didn’t think he’d actually do it, not with so many people around. But he stepped closer, brushing his arms underneath mine to guide them around his neck. My hands naturally drove through his hair to find it freshly washed, curling between my fingers. Breathing at all was difficult as he slid those muscled arms around me and for the very first time, I got to see what all of those fans were jealous of. An immediate feeling of comfort washed over me like it never had before. I felt safe when I was so close to him, breathing in his natural smell. It smelled like a memory coming to the surface after being lost for years. His hands on my back were like fire, seeping through my costume and straight to my insides and melting them. I felt every inch of where we were connected. He stepped even further into me, bringing his mouth closer to mine. 

“He should hold you like he’s scared to lose you. Like you are everything that could ever matter to him. He should look into your eyes and see everything he could ever want, standing right in front of him, within his grasp.” The words had a sort of other heaviness to them, like he was carefully weighing them to determine if they were accurate. Like they were the right ones he wanted to say, but sounding almost rehearsed at the same time. He had said these before somewhere. But the rawness was still fresh, honed like a sword. His voice got lower and lower and his mouth got closer and closer to mine, our breath mingling in the centimeters of space between us. I couldn't look at anything other than his lips, how full and soft they would feel on my mouth… my neck… my-

I had to know. So I closed the distance. And it was everything I thought it would be. For the five seconds I had been imagining it. But what I didn’t expect was for him to kiss me back. His hand moved to cradle my face as our lips moved in tandem, like they had been meant for each other all along. Like he’d been practicing for this moment in his own mind, biding his time, waiting for me to come around. 

When he broke us apart, he kept his arms around me, giving me room to breathe. He took a second to reel himself in, panting like he’d just run a marathon. 

“As much as I would like to do that again, and trust me, I would.” I pointedly looked him in the eyes. “I unfortunately have a shoot to get back to. And you have just made it very difficult to focus.” He let his arms fall, a smirk growing. 

“Then I should go so you can focus. Since I’m such a distraction for you.” I gave him a wary look, then shooed him away. “But we’ll talk? Later?” All amusement was now gone from him, hope shining brightly in those eyes.

“Definitely.”  

He nodded, giving me a signature grin and turned on his heel, grabbing an apple from the table of food and leaning his shoulder down to push the door into the hall. 

This is going to be fun. I smiled to myself, seeing my phone light up on the table behind me.

Chan: I’m getting something special for tonight so you’re coming over. 

Chan: I’m calling it our Day One date. :)  

[yelena-bellova]

do you have any TYL deleted scenes you saved that you'd want to share? (i do that sometimes and wasn't sure!)

I wouldn’t call them deleted scenes so much as alternate versions of what made it in. I’ll include some of them below for anyone interested!

—————

(Takes place during ep.4 when Ellie, Joel and Rosebud are eating ravioli in the woods)

Ellie’s eyes flicked between her two guardians, she was still trying to get a read on their tenuous relationship. She hadn’t quite settled on where they stood with each other.

“So why’d you two break up?”

Joel stopped chewing, Y/n looked up from her plate with a frown.

“Was it, like, some really bad fight? Or was there someone else?” Ellie gasped, “I read this book once where the guy was sleeping with this girl, but was also sleeping with her best friend. Was it something like that?”

Y/n dug her palm into her forehead and prayed to possess the power to crush her own skull.

“Eat your dinner,” Joel said, scowling at Ellie as if that could contain her questions inside her.

“I’m gonna figure this out,” she waved her fork between Y/n and Joel, her determination was rock solid.

Even if Ellie had the rest of her life, she would have never been able to guess the truth behind the horrible breakup.

—————

(Takes place during ep.6 when Tommy and Joel are in the bar)

“So we just not gonna talk about it?”

Tommy had done the small talk with his brother, asked about Tess and all, learned the story on Ellie…but that wasn’t what he truly wanted to know.

“She was in Boston too,” Joel explained, still looking around the bar, “Works with Marlene. Kid wouldn’t budge without her so…” he trailed off, “There we are.”

“Why the fuck are you still standing here?” Tommy asked.

Joel flashed back to the first week of his and Y/n’s partnership, when she was threatening to kill him if he so much as breathed in her direction. That, shockingly, was less complicated than where they were now.

“She needs to get out with Ellie to the base camp,” he deflected, “Any idea where it is?”

—————

(Takes place during ep.6 when Joel and Rose are talking by the fire on their way to the Firefly base in Colorado)

“So why should I trust you now?” Y/n asked.

Joel’s nose rubbed against hers, “Chance you’ll have to take.”

“I’m taking a big enough chance right now,” Y/n looked down at the lack of space between them.

“No,” Joel snapped to attention, taking Y/n’s cheeks into his hands and pulling back. He needed her to know he was here, unwavering and unflinching in his choices, “You’re not. I’m here.”

—————

(Takes place during ep.9 when Rose and Joel are in the RV. This was going to be the original version of the scene before I remembered that Joel said the guitar he’d found was smashed up)

“Come on…” Y/n said.

Joel reluctantly shook his head, “We don’t have time.”

“We literally have no schedule,” Y/n argued, getting to her feet and coming to the middle of the vehicle. She held out the instrument to Joel, “Just a few notes.”

Joel sighed, his hands practically twitching with desire to feel the six steel strings beneath his fingers again. The funny thing about dreams is that they never fully die, and Joel had always held space in his mind for the fantasy of doing what he loved full time.

“I’m injured, remember,” Y/n raised an eyebrow, “You have to do everything in your power to heal me.”

Joel scoffed, “You’re really gonna play that card?”

“If it gets me what I want,” Y/n shrugged, letting the guitar swing in her grip a little.

“Alright,” Joel relented, walking across the space to take the instrument from Y/n. He took a seat on the couch, causing a layer of dust to release from the cushions and making them both cough. Joel suddenly wondered if he even remembered how to play.

Y/n leaned up against the RV wall, watching as Joel ran his hands over the neck of the guitar.

Joel began to pick a simple pattern, the callouses from years of mnaual labor and handling firearms helping his fingers press down on the strings. From the first note, he felt some part of his soul arise, letting in a soft breeze and doing away with the dust and decay. He’d forgotten how fucking powerful music was.

Goosebumps flooded Y/n’s skin as soon as Joel began to play, the memories washing over her like a calm wave, rather than the hurricane they’d been for so long. She didn’t need to second guess herself when she thought she’d heard the song before.