#popcorn hair goes boom

[awkwardgirl-3]

let's go popcorn hair gorl!!!!!!!

[jeridandridge]

New Years with the Flyers

Melissa Schemmenti loves Christmas. From her tradition of dinner with Barbra at Abbott on the last day before break to her cousins Vinny and Tommy putting each other in headlocks before desert is served on Christmas Eve, she loves Christmas.

“Mel, I don’t think we have room for any more,” you chuckle from the couch watching your girlfriend try to put another student made ornament on the packed tree amidst all the others that hold memories.

“I can make it fit, hon.”

A couple weeks later while Melissa locks herself away in her bedroom to wrap presents, you take her weak threat of staying put downstairs to good use and finally pull the trigger on her big present for the year. One of your first dates two years ago was a Flyers game, and you love how excited Melissa gets when it comes to her sports teams. Pulling out your debit card you type away on your laptop with a smirk.

Upstairs, Melissa sits on your shared bed with a black velvet box in her palm and a smile on her lips. It didn’t take her long to decide to buy a ring like she thought it would. She wasn’t guarded or scared with you, she had no reason to be. She wanted to be with you forever, and she would ask you right after the new year because Schemmenti’s aren’t THAT cliche she reasons.

On Christmas morning you hum contently across your girlfriend, admiring her flannel pajamas and make up free face as she opens the last present from you.

“What could this be?” She teases shaking the thin box wrapped beautifully.

“Rip it open!” You laugh.

Tearing the paper away Melissa opens up the shirt box to a brand new Flyers jersey.

“Amore! This is the real deal!” She lights up like a little kid making you grin.

“Flip it around.”

Turning the jersey over Melissa gasps seeing the name of her favorite current player.

“Konecny! Oh, hon. This is the best present. Thank you.” She beams leaning forward to kiss you softly.

Smiling you rest your hand on her knee. “You might wanna take another look in the box, babe.”

Looking down in the tissue paper of the box, Melissa gasps picking up two tickets.

“The New Year’s Eve game?! 6 rows up!” She lunges forward wrapping her arms around you. That’s when it hits her.

“I knew that’d be a good pick.” You laugh gently squeezing her.

“Thank you, Amore.” She smiles pulling you in to another kiss.

On New Year’s Eve Philly is buzzing. People are bar crawling, visiting restaurants, and headed to the flyers game. While you two walk hand in hand through the concourse Melissa has a nervous flutter in her stomach as the ring box sits in her pocket, relieved that her New Jersey comes down far enough to hide it.

Seated with a bucket of popcorn and a beer you beam watching Melissa’s eyes light up as she takes it all in. “Youre so pretty, Mel.”

“Shush,” she teases gently squeezing your leg. You had no idea what was to come.

As the game goes on, the crowd is electric as the Flyers lead 3-1 in the second period. Cheering with the crowd and making friends with the people sat around you, your head snaps up when you hear your name, Melissa pointing to the lit up screen of the jumbo tron seeing the camera on the two of you, and 4 important words underneath.

“Melissa Schemmenti has an important question!” The announcer booms,

You’re at a loss for words, gaping at your girlfriend you see an engagement ring in her hand. “Seriously?!” You beam. “Yes!”

The crowd and your new friends around you whoop and cheer as you two are shown on the screen with a big pink heart around you.

Melissa laughs slipping the beautiful diamond on your finger before you lunge forward just like she did on Christmas morning, laughing into her hair you sniffle trying not to cry.

“Next rounds on me!” One of the guys sat behind you yells, causing Melissa to laugh.

Pulling back you keep your arms around her with a ridiculous smile on your face.

“You know a guy don’t you, Schemmenti?”

Melissa laughs leaning in to peck your lips.

“Yeah, I know a guy.”

[lazybakerart]

a cute harringrove thing for you: billy being in the middle of trying to do something but he keeps shaking away bits of hair that get into his eyes and steve just comes up behind him, puts his hair into a bun, then casually goes back to where he was while billy's stunned and blushing before he returns to his task with a big grin on his face

The AC's out.

Billy's cracked the unit open with a flathead screwdriver he found under the sink and a few choice words. July hit hard. Sweat drips down his nose as he tries to fix and not kick a heavy metal box down three stories.

In the small kitchen just a few feet behind his hunched back, Steve's popping more ice out and yelling at the radio - a Dodgers game has gone to shit.

Billy swipes his sweat-stuck curls back just to have all of them tumble right back in the way again.

Summers always leave Billy regretting growing out his hair.

He hadn't meant to. A couple months without a haircut grew into a couple years where a couple of half-assed snicks with the scissors he uses for zip ties and toe nails were all he made do with. Every year he forgets how much of it there is when summer arrives to remind him.

Snapping back up, screwdriver in a vice-grip, Billy yanks his hair back with both hands and yells FUCK YOU at the stained popcorn ceiling and his own mane fried with West Hollywood humidity.

"What's wrong now? What happened?" Steve has the honest nerve to say after over an hour of this.

"I'm shaving my head."

A deep sigh and Steve's opening some cabinet that creaks and needs to be oiled - the deal when they first moved in was Billy dealt with the electric shit and Steve got everything that wouldn't have him sizzling when he got distracted.

Plumbing means rock, paper, scissors comes out and goddamnit if Billy doesn't lose every single round.

He and the plunger have built a relationship.

Billy blames dying and coming back with fried nerves and a second-rate case of stigmata making his every joint he's got stiff, his hands getting the worst of it. He'd be a lousy second coming anyways.

"That time of year again, huh?" Steve says.

He stands behind Billy, swatting away his frustrated steel-grip to comb through Billy's curls, pulling them back and away.

"There are these things - they're called hair-ties," Steve gently pulls Billy's hair through elastic, "And I know you like using rubber bands because you're a freak," Slowly he winds Billy's overgrown hair around, "But these are, like, at least twice as good. Now, we just twist," He twists, "And twist some more and - boom! Done. I'm awesome."

Steve spins Billy around by the shoulders twice, his sweaty feet squeaking on the scratched up oak floors. He holds Billy in place, sweaty hands on Billy's sweaty nape, sweaty thumbs running circles, and it doesn't seem to matter much to him that the AC is broken and they're reaching the peak 90s on the thermostat.

Steve's looking at him.

All tender.

All sweet.

A little tipsy from better beer than they chugged in high school. It's been seven years since they hit the highway and left Indiana for good. Three more months and five more days and they'll hit eight.

"Oh no." Steve croons at him. Smile turning cotton soft. Those sweaty hands move to cup Billy's face and those running thumbs rub just under Billy's eyes. "Why are we crying?"

"It's hot." Billy says.

Pinching his ears around his piercings, Steve tells him, "You're hot."

Billy sniffles. Snot drips, meets his upper lip and Steve wipes it off - eight years worth of tears and snot and blood and spunk and so much sweat.

And so much fucking good shit.

From an open window in their cramped apartment, a slice of warmed July breeze catches on the back of Billy's newly bared neck. He tosses the screwdriver somewhere.

"And," Steve pecks him on the lips, bites at his nose to make sure Billy gets heat-stroke, "You've got a great ass."

The AC can wait a little longer.

[superblysubpar]

📼 Remember to vote at the bottom // Details for the Trope or Treat Madness Event found here

📼 Each scene of the boy's stories below is about 1.5k words more or less, there are things that happen before and after that would be revealed in future scenes if they make it to the next round and/or in the final one shot if declared the winner.

📼 warnings: steve's story involves mentions of PTSD, eddie's story mentions blood and injuries

Steve's Story:

"You come to me, wild and wired."

You’re not sure why you’ve suddenly found a new comfort in horror movies. Perhaps it’s the way the score of the film leads you to the scare, laying the stones down in front of you and telling you ‘Just a few more steps and something spooky is gonna jump out - get ready’. Maybe it’s the knowledge of it being a tape that will come to an end and you’ll rewind it. The story is over, it never really happened. 

Maybe it’s because you know there are things out here, in the real world, that scare you more than these movies ever could. 

Which is why you find yourself alone, as a storm rages outside, in a dark house, with a bowl of popcorn on your lap. The buzz from the speakers and fuzzy light comforting. You’re relaxed and on edge at the same time, socked toes digging into the carpet in anticipation and a fluffy blanket draped around your shoulders for protection. Your eyes blink, wide and captivated at the action on screen as the girl shakes with a knife in her hand, creeping around the corner and looking over her shoulder. You know that the killer is right on the other side, and you want to tell her that she needs to stop breathing so harshly, he can hear her, get out, run while you have the chance! 

A loud thunk from outside has your gaze drawing to the window. The oak’s branches out front sway, the navy sky swirling with dark clouds you get a glimpse of each time lightning flashes across it. You hold your breath as you turn back to the movie, waiting for the inevitable to happen. 

Your shoulders hunch and popcorn spills from the bowl as the shrill scream on the screen harmonizes with your doorbell ringing. Hand over your chest as you squeeze your eyes closed, a loud and booming clap of thunder overhead practically shakes your house. The thudding on your door from a fist hitting it only adds to the cacophony surrounding you. 

Quickly moving to answer it, you peer through the peephole and frown, swinging the door open. 

“Steve?”

Your best friend stands on your doorstep drenched. His light gray jacket darker from the storm he has to have run through since there’s no sign of his car. His hair clings to his forehead and cheeks as he blinks. His skin pale, lips almost blue as you usher him inside, noticing how his hands shake as he steps over the threshold.  

Before you can ask him what’s wrong, before you can offer him something warm he’s gripping your shoulders, his voice hoarse as he questions, “Where are the tapes?”

Your brows furrow, mouth parting as you blink up at him. “Wha-Steve! Hold on!”

He’s already running past you, through the foyer. Mud leaves his shoes, dripping onto the cherry hardwoods until they’re staining the cream carpeted steps he’s running up. He’s yelling about cassette tapes over his shoulder, calling out to you if you know if anyone’s favorite songs have changed in the last year. 

Your hand freezes on the railing as you stare up to the top of the steps where he’s now disappeared from. Your heart beats rapidly, stomach churning as you push your own fear and anxiety away. 

This must be a bad one. 

Each step up the stairs is lead you’re lifting, like your body is physically protesting having to have this conversation with him. Like it knows he’s going to cry and yell and you have to go over everything again and how much it’ll break your heart to do so. 

As you round the corner to your childhood bedroom, you watch as Steve goes straight to your bed, he reaches under and finds the shoebox. 

“Steve?”

“Can you call Robin? And Henderson? I tried calling Hop and Joyce and they didn’t-”

“Steve.” 

Your best friend ignores you, his large fingers flip through the tapes, counting and recounting, whispers of names leaving his lips. His frantic energy radiates off of him. It pulses and throbs, it constricts around your throat and squeezes till there are tears falling over your lashes. 

“Steve. Look at me.”

He finally turns, wild eyes and their gaze bouncing over your face. He stands, rushing over to you. His hands cup your jaw, cold against your warm and the rough skin of his thumbs brush over your cheeks. Steve nods, licking his lips once before he keeps going, “I know, I know it’s scary, but we’re gonna be fine. We have the tapes and we’ll call everyone and we’ll make a plan and-”

Your fingers circle around his wrists and you shake your head no. “Steve. It’s over, this isn’t happening. You’re-you’re remembering things, because of the storm. Remember? What year is it?”

His hands drop and he squeezes his eyes closed. His tone is pained, his denial adamant, “No.”

“Steve, please-”

“No!” Shouting the word before he drops to his knees and looks through the tapes again, muttering to himself, “I’m not crazy. He was in my head. I saw him. I felt it. He showed me Eddie and Max and…and…” A sob cracks out of his chest as you kneel next to him. 

“I know, it’s okay,” you soothe, hand on his back as Steve curls into your side. His face buries itself into the crook of your neck, his nose pressing to your skin as his fingers cling and tug on your shirt hem.

“I’m not crazy,” his voice thick, tears soaking into the collar of your shirt, “I know I’m not. It’s real, he-he’s back.”

You keep your eyes on the box of tapes, blinking away tears as your hand moves up and down his spine, cheek resting against his damp hair. 

The storm gets worse outside, and eventually your gaze moves to your window. The trails the rain paints on the panes match the ones your tears silently create on your cheeks. You’re not sure how long you sit holding him. Eventually his body grows heavier against yours, his chest moves slower with each rise and fall as his breathing becomes more even. 

Slowly, you ease him backwards, gently laying him on his side and you join him, laying on your back. Your hand reaches up, pushing a strand of now dry hair from his forehead that’s smooth - free of worry as he sleeps. He hums as your lips press to his forehead and you worry you woke him. But his arm only curls around your side stronger, leg tangling with yours as he lays over your chest and thigh, clinging to you. 

You blink up at the ceiling, letting your fingers scratch at his scalp and drift lazily through his hair as you wonder what the next step is. He needs medicine, he needs doctors. What happens if he gets stuck in this sort of state and he doesn’t relax and calm down? You’re certainly not equipped to help him through these sorts of symptoms that professionals are still learning about. 

There’s hope though, you tell yourself - people cope and get help and they survive, they live. It’s not like Steve is alone. It’s not like you yourself haven’t had flare ups of what you’re in denial is PTSD. Flashes of a gray face that opens up coming to you in your dreams, days that feel like they’re not real, where you walk around your house and wonder if you’re even alive. 

You’re going to be fine. Steve and you are going to be okay. 

It’s the last thing you remember thinking before your eyelids grew too heavy. The last thing you remember before you reached up and pulled the comforter from your bed and wrapped it around the two of you. The last thing you remember before waking to the shrill ring of a telephone. 

Eyes blink open as the sound comes to an abrupt halt. Peach and gold filter in through your curtains, a small square of warm sunlight just out of reach behind Steve’s shoulder. His face is stressed again, mouth turned down in a frown, forehead furrowed, but his eyes remain closed. His cheek red and splotchy from the carpet pressed to it that his fingers twitch against.

Your limbs stretch, stiff and sore from a night on the ground as your eyes start to flutter closed once more. The relaxation brief however, as the shrill scream of the phone starts again. Sitting up, the red blinking numbers on your alarm clock tell you it’s just after six A.M and you look over at Steve, your lips forming their own frown. Who’s calling you so early if not him? 

Quickly removing yourself from under the heavy weight of his arm that still rests on your waist, you head down the stairs, skipping over the last two as you reach the phone just in time. Answering a little breathless as the last ring is cut off, “Hello?”

“Is Steve there?”

“Nancy?” Your stomach twists from her tone, but relief washes over you nonetheless, “Yeah he’s here, the storm last night set him off I think. How are you? How’s everyone else?”

“Stay where you are. He’s back.”

The click and then dial tone echo in your ear as your fingers go numb. 

“Honey?” 

Your eyes blink at Steve who stands in the kitchen doorway, forehead furrowed, cheeks pink and eyes sleepy. 

The phone leaves your fingers, dangling from its curled cord and swaying against the wall. The last thing you see is Steve rushing over to you, and then nothing, only the chime of a clock and your name called through the darkness. 

Eddie's Story:

"I call you when I need you, my heart's on fire."

Your foot kicks a pebble and it goes skidding across the dark path into the perfect gap between two twigs. You lift your fists with a smile, a forced lighthearted and amused tone, but it just comes out flat, sad, and awkward in the stilted silence.

“Two points.”

Eddie stares blankly ahead, glassy eyes and his lips twitch subtly, and for a brief wonderful second you think he may actually smile, but he’s back to shaking his head. “You,” his voice cracks as he keeps going, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“What, do I smell or something?” Your hand falls over your chest, sarcasm laced around your words and fake worry forming your features, “Because honestly Edward, you need to tell me these things. If my best friend can’t tell me I’m walking around and stinking up some sort of creepy dimension of Hawkins, who can?”

He stops abruptly, hands on your shoulders. He’s shaking and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re both still drenched from the lake you dove into after Steve The Hair Harrington, or the wind or what, but it can’t be from actual real fear. 

It can’t be. 

Eddie’s eyes blink at you and he laughs, a little watery and you’re sure that’s wrong too. He’s got something in his eye, he swallowed some of this shit that’s floating around. 

“I don’t deserve you and I never, ever should have called you. I should have known better than to drag you into my shit again. And I’m so, so, so, sorry sweetheart.”

You’re not sure if you’ve ever felt the kind of fear you did when he called. Fear doesn’t even feel like the right word - dread, impending doom, real and awful heartbreak as he choked out words into the phone. 

“I-I, think she’s, ohmygodholyshit, I swear, she was just like, ohmygod she jus-just di-die-”

“Eddie, woah, woah, slow down. Where are you?” You were already pulling on sneakers, cradling the phone between your shoulder and ear, pulling the cord around the corner till it couldn’t go any further. Your heartbeat hammering, stomach churning. Did he just say what you think he said?”

“I, I’m shit I don’t know I just took off and this payphone is uh…” he cuts off, mumbling a string of cuss words. 

“Okay, what’s around you, tell me what you see.” Your jacket now on one arm as you grab your wallet, checking it and sighing at the empty contents. As Eddie describes a motel, a convenience store, you nod into the phone, cutting him off, “Yeah, I know where that is. Just, um, go down the road and pull your van off into the woods, can you do that? And-and Eddie, is she, um, you’re sure she’s…”

“Yeah,” his voice is so quiet, you press the phone harder to your ear to hear the confirmation and your throat constricts. 

“Right,” you lick your lips and close your eyes, “So, um, don’t hang out in your van, okay? I’ll be there in like twenty minutes. Just, it’s gonna be okay, okay? We’ll figure it out.”

“Okay,” he sounds like he’s crying again and you hang up before your heart can break more. 

You peer around the corner, your father’s head still lolled against the back of the sofa, mouth open as he snores softly. Your cheek pulls in as you bite it and make the quick decision you need to, creeping up the stairs as quietly as you can. You’ll ask for forgiveness later. Your fingers search his sock drawer, pulling out the small roll of bills you know is kept there for emergencies and you’re pretty sure you’re in one, so it’s okay, right?

You debate waking him, coming up with some lie about grabbing a burger and shake with friends, but he looks so peaceful and you decide it’s for the best - whatever he doesn’t know can’t hurt him. 

Grabbing your bike, you glide down the driveway, past the stop sign, under the lamp post that’s flickering, and pedal towards your best friend. 

You can still feel the gravel biting your knees as you skidded to a stop and hit the ground when you saw him. Huddled under a giant pine tree, leather arms wrapped around himself, fingers picking at the threads of where the fabric split and ripped over pale knees. Silver rings shining in the moonlight as he spoke slowly, staring at the ground, telling you what happened. 

“You have to believe me,” he spoke softly, big, brown eyes finally daring to look up at you as he said it again, “You have to believe me, you know I would never, I could never…sweetheart please tell me you believe me.” 

And you had, of course you had. 

Your best friend would never do something as cruel as what you’ve witnessed. His brown eyes still glassy as he stares at you now, apologizing for dragging you into it all. Eddie was your best friend, the peanut butter to your jelly, the guy who finished your thoughts and sentences for you. Two halves of one soul, the person you’d call to hide a body no questions asked. You just never thought that last one would be a real possibility. 

Your fingers curl around his biceps, staring him down, “Eddie, would you hate me if the roles were reversed? What would you be telling me if I was the one apologizing to you right now?”

He shakes his head, another watery laugh as he looks down at his feet. “You’re so fucking stubborn.”

“Sir, you haven’t even seen the tip of the iceberg of my stubbornness. Now. Let’s catch up with the others and kill that creepy monster dude, grab a cheeseburger, get guns from Nancy Wheeler’s bedroom - we still need to talk about that, clear your name, get out of this shit hole, take a shower.” You smile at him as you squeeze his arms again, waiting till he looks up at you to say, “But you know, in a different order that makes more sense.”

Eddie smiles at you genuinely for the first time since you arrived in the upside down, and his thumb now brushes your neck, fingers wrapped around the back of it as he clears his throat, “I-”

Both of you grab each other harder as the ground starts to shake again. This time, the earth directly beneath your feet feels like it’s splitting in two. You cling to Eddie, both of you falling to the ground. You squeeze your eyes closed and press your nose to the hellfire logo on his chest, holding your breath. Eddie’s arms wrap around you tightly, and eventually the ringing in your ears stops, and the earth seems to settle. 

Your body hasn’t though, and you try grounding yourself in all things Eddie to reach a calm state once more. Your hands hold the hem of his shirt, fingers meeting warm skin that somehow makes you shiver from the touch. Your nose still pressed to his chest that you take deep inhales against, smelling old spice and the lake and you try to match each breath with his, his chest moving up and down patiently. Your ears strain to listen to anything, and you turn, pressing your cheek to where your nose had just been, hearing and feeling the steady thump of his heart. 

“You okay?” He whispers, and your fingers curl into his shirt more from the way you feel the rumble of his voice underneath you. 

“Yeah, I’m-”

“Hey! Lovebirds! We kind of got shit to do and places to be, so if you could wrap whatever the hell you’re doing up, that’d be great!”

Eddie sighs and you laugh as he grumbles, “Remind me again why we dove in after him?”

Pushing away from Eddie, you stand, smiling down at your best friend who glares down the path towards Steve Harrington. “Well, I want it publicly stated that I dove in after Robin, not him.”

Eddie watches you from the ground, eyes shimmering as he takes your hand and stands. He doesn’t let your entangled fingers drop as he murmurs, “Yeah, and it was really stupid.”

Your heart thuds in your chest for a very different reason now. Brown eyes you’re able to be swallowed by when they give you undivided attention like this. Voice softer than you want it to be as you clear your throat. “Well, being smart is overrated.”

Eddie’s lips twitch again, and it’s a much more real feeling of hope this time, as he leans in closer, nose bumping yours. His eyes move down to your lips and back up, both of you taking a deep breath. Holy shit are you about to kiss your best friend?

His lips part as you exhale and-

“Seriously?!”

Eddie’s groan and your laugh follow Steve’s annoyed tone. Both of you turn to glare, finding him with hands on his hips, barefoot and in Eddie’s vest. He snaps his fingers and motions for you to follow. 

Eddie grumbles as you spin to do just that, “I know we’ve established I didn’t kill Chrissy and I would never, but I really could kill this dude.”

“I’ll help you hide the body.”

“I heard that!”

Your fingers squeeze Eddie’s with another soft laugh as you drop them, turning to see what the others are stopped on the ridge for. 

Please vote for who will be moving on and revealing more of their story.

Remember: whoever wins this week, faces the winner of The Final Girls

Choose wisely!

[wheels-of-despair]

One More Minute Pairing: Billy Knight x You Summary: You and Billy watch fireworks on New Year's Eve. Contains: Cuddling, snuggling, nuzzling, kissing, etc. Words: 300ish

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

You and Billy both jolt awake at the sound of yells and cheers erupting from the neighbor's flat. You're still on the couch, in your pajamas, cuddled up under a blanket. A half-eaten bowl of popcorn and two glasses sit on the coffee table in front of you. The confetti-covered people on TV are holding hands and singing Auld Lang Syne. You turn to Billy, who's looking at you sheepishly.

"Oops," you say together, then laugh.

"Happy New Year," you whisper, leaning over for a kiss.

"Happy New Year," Billy repeats after you pull away. He stretches and rubs his eyes.

A boom from nearby catches your attention, and you get up and walk to the window.

"Billy, c'mere."

He pulls the blanket around his shoulders like a cape and trudges over to you. He stands behind you and wraps the blanket around you both. You lean back into him and watch the fireworks light up the sky for a while.

And then you let your eyes focus on the window itself, and watch Billy's reflection instead. He takes in the beautiful colors exploding the sky with childlike wonder, although you can feel him flinch a little each time a particularly loud one goes off.

You stay right there at the window with that oversized blanket wrapped around the both of you until the fireworks die out. When the sky goes dark, you turn around in your warm little blanket cocoon and wrap your arms around Billy's waist. You rest your head against him and close your eyes.

"Ready to go to bed?" he asks quietly, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

"One more minute," you mumble into his chest.

You wish you could spend all year snuggled up to him like this. But for tonight, you'll settle for just one more minute.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Camper’s Lake

Summary: The reader and the Winchesters take a short weekend away to relax at Campers Lake but they quickly find out they aren’t the only ones at the secluded lake...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,600ish

Warnings: language

A/N: A little something for spooky season and Friday the 13th fans...

“Y/N, you know how you told me to check that I packed everything?” asked Dean, staring at his open duffle on your bed. You smiled and walked over to yours, glancing out the window to see Sam and Cas already swimming outside in the lake.

“Yes,” you said, digging around in your bag.

“I uh, I forgot something,” he said. You tossed the bright blue swim trunks at the back of his head lightly, giggling as he pulled them down. “Thank you sweetheart.”

“No problem babe,” you said, pulling off your shirt, putting on a bathing suit as Dean watched. “Can you tie me up?” you asked, pulling your hair to the side.

“I thought we were going swimming,” said Dean with a chuckle, grazing the back of your neck with his long fingers before they began to pull the strings taught and into a bow. “All set.”

“Thank you,” you said, standing on your tip toes to kiss him. He smiled against you and pulled away, turning around so you could hop up on his back.

“The Winchester’s vacation has officially begun,” he said, carrying the two of you outside and to a waiting Sam and Cas. “How cold is the water, fellas?”

“Not too bad,” said Sam, swimming in circles on his back. “Only a little cool.”

“Perfect,” said Dean, jumping in with you. It was fucking cold in your opinion but after popping up to the surface and getting your breath back, you quickly got used to it.

You were so glad they’d listened to you about taking a weekend to yourselves for once.

“Dean, come on, do we have to watch something scary?” you asked, curled on the couch with him that night. Sam threw a piece of popcorn at you from the other one and you scowled. “I’m doing this for your sake Sammy.”

“I’m not afraid of-” he got out before the two of you jumped as thunder boomed overhead.

“Chickens,” Dean muttered. He sat you up and went over to the TV, picking up a different movie. “Can you two handle this ‘Saturday the 14th’ crap knock off movie then? All they got around here is scary.”

“Sure. I just don’t want anything with creepy demons,” you said, Sam nodding.

“Me either. Some shitty version of Jason I can deal with,” said Sam as Dean rolled his eyes.

“You dated a demon once ya know,” said Dean, walking over to Sam and ruffling his hair, stealing some popcorn for the two of you. 

“Shut up,” said Sam. Cas walked in the room with a plate full of microwaved smores, not ideal but the weather outside would put off your campfire until the next night.

“Dean does have a point,” said Cas, offering one to each of you, the boys scarfing theirs down way too fast. “I’m told chewing does wonders for digestion.”

“Oh, sassy Cas this weekend. I like,” you said, earning yourself a second smore.

“He goes on two hunts with you and suddenly he understands sarcasm,” said Dean, trying to steal it out of your hands.

“Y/N is a very good teacher,” said Cas. “She taught me about smores after all.”

“See guys, I’m a good teacher unlike you two,” you said, getting more popcorn thrown at you from Sam and a headlock from Dean. “I give!”

“Just put on the movie already jerk,” said Sam, settling into his spot.

“Alright bitch,” said Dean. “Let’s hope this isn’t too terrifying for you scaredy cats.”

“Truth or dare?” you asked Sam a few hours later. The movie had been decent but you’d moved on to drinking and a card game, truth or dare popping up every so often.

“Dare,” said Sam with a smirk. 

“Go jump in the lake and come back,” you said. Sam scowled but stood up anyways. “It’s only raining now.”

“Oh just wait until it’s your turn Y/N. Payback’s a bitch,” he said, opening the back door where the four of you heard the pouring rain. You turned on the back light for him as the three of you stood by the window and watched Sam trot down to the lake and jump in. You laughed a little but started getting scared when he didn’t pop back up.

“Guys,” you said, patting them both on the arm as you took off outside. You were just about at the water’s edge when you saw something shift out of the corner of you eye.

“Boo!” shouted Sam beside you as you nearly swung a fist.

“That’s not funny Sam! I thought you were hurt,” you said, Dean and Cas by your side now. Sam saw your face and theirs and decided it hadn’t been the best idea to do that.

“Sorry,” said Sam. “Let’s get dry and inside.” You started walking back up when the back light went off, Dean stopping right in front of you.

“Power out?” you asked, peeking your head around him. The lights were all still on. Then the ones in the kitchen went out, then the ones in the family room. You went to keep walking but Dean’s arm jutted out in front of you.

“Did you guys see that?” asked Dean. The boys nodded but you weren’t sure what they were talking about. “Am I crazy or did that thing look like the thing from the movie?”

“I wish I could say you were wrong but...yeah, that’s what I saw too,” said Sam. 

“Alright, prank’s over. I’m getting cold guys,” you said, brushing past Dean and towards the house.

“Y/N, stop!” you heard all three shout at you. You kept on jogging up and ran right to the backdoor, the light turning on as you smacked into a chest. 

For the first time in all you years of hunting, you froze up. This was a freaking character from a movie, standing in front of you, tilting it’s head down at you. You took a step back and had to duck as it reached out for you. You took off, feeling something grab at you, registering it as Dean after a second. He was moving the two you towards the front of the house where Baby was parked but you two had gone the wrong way.

There wasn’t all that much room on that side of the cabin and in the dark it was only a matter of time for Dean to lose his footing and send the both of you down the small hill.

“Oof,” you huffed out when Dean landed on your back. He helped you to your feet but suddenly he was gone. You spun around but found no trace of him. “Shit.”

You took off until you could get back to some more even ground, carefully approaching the back yard of the cabin this time. You nearly screamed when a hand came over your mouth.

“Sh, it’s me, it’s Sam,” he whispered. You turned to find Sam looking worse for wear and Cas no where to be found. “Dean?”

“Cas?” you asked, Sam nodding and looking at the house. “Fuck.”

“I thought that house from the movie looked a little too much like our fucking cabin,” said Sam. You shivered and wondered if the other things that had happened in it would end up happening to the four of you.

“We got to get Dean and Cas out of that basement,” you said. You felt Sam take a step away from you and you groaned. “Sam...”

“How do you know where they are?” he said, backing up and picking up a branch.

“Because I watched the movie...or most of it until it got too scary. We’re in it right now if you hadn’t realized. It’s not fake found footage Sam. It was real. I can guarantee we’re in the next version as we speak,” you said. 

“Yeah, I’ll give you that but there was the decoy in the movie too. The person that wasn’t a person,” said Sam. You took a step back and Sam saw that as a sign of guilt. “Where are they!”

“Sam it’s me,” you said, holding up your hands. “Y/N, the one who uses up the hot water and doesn’t like the crust on anything,” you said. 

Sam glared but you saw something shift behind him. You reached out for him and pulled him forward, narrowly missing a blow to the head as you dragged him across the lawn and back into the woods.

“Trust me?” you said, Sam nodding but still glancing over his shoulder to where the thing was watching from the edge of the lawn. “I think we’re safe for a minute.”

“Why isn’t it coming after us?” asked Sam. He looked around before it hit him. “The movie. The monster...it could only go so far.”

“There’s something over here it doesn’t like. We just have to figure out what that is before...” you trailed off. You started to shake from the cold as you took cover under a tree, Sam bundling in beside you.

“Hey, Y/N?” asked Sam wrapping his arm around himself as rain continued to pour down. “Great vacation so far.”

“We get the boys back and kill this thing, I’ll never ask you guys to go on one ever again,” you said.

“Sounds good to me.”

[cheshire-999]

𝗚𝗔𝗭 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗦

(𝗴𝗻!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿)

// based on my perception of this character

(english isn’t my first language ‼️)

•He is really easy to approach. A gorgeous friendly man. He likes to talk, he likes having conversations with other persons, likes getting to know them. He is the type to know a lot of people but is only close to a few of them.

•I see him as a sarcastic man. I think it’s his humour.

•He is curious. He likes learning new things (just like Konig). But the most important for him is to share it. Every single things that he knows, he will tell, teach or show it to you (if you are willing too).

•He is lazy when he is at home. Lazy but when something needs to be done (and it’s only when it’s needed) he will do it.

•He can be a gamer. I like imagining him playing games with his friends (mostly Mario Kart) and doing bets on who will be the loser.

•I don’t think he goes a lot outside. He just wants to chill on his couch, relax for a bit. Maybe he will hang out with a few of his friends, go on some dates, but mostly he stays at home. I mean he’s been away for a long period of time, he needs time to rest, to put his job aside. After this short period of time, he will be more interested into hanging out.

•He takes good care of himself. It makes him feel good and alive again especially after deployment. I can totally imagine him having his 2 hours shower, where he shaves himself, takes care of his hair, just so he could forget about his last mission and go back to a normal life.

•I see him as a clumsy person. Sometimes his attention goes somewhere else and boom he just poured his coffee on the kitchen desk.

•Has the most beautiful smile (I will not tolerate any kind of debate about it 🫵). Oh and his laugh is contagious. He laughs = everybody is laughing.

•Likes horror movies sooooo much. It’s his first choice in movies. Being under the covers, eating popcorn or crisps, being scared. Definitely the type to laugh at screamers or jumpscares. (he just finds it fun)

———————————————————————

hope you enjoyed :)

this man needs more recognition and love.

#welovekylegarrick

[cchapsticck]

@bettiebloodshed I am so sure this is not what you meant at all but:

Anyway. They’re climbing through Robin’s bedroom window, absolutely obliterated. Her folks aren’t home, there’s no reason for this beyond the drunk logic that demands it. She goes ass over tits right through the ground floor window and she’s cracking up, face down, in the carpet and Steve manifests some intoxicated savant level of physical acuity to jump through after her, prepared to like, triage whatever mess she’s made of her face while laughing in it.

Robin like, shushes him, all stuttered out between the giggles.

“No one’s home, babe.” Steve says, also laughing in hushed giggles, but also whispering. Because drunk idiots. 

Eddie knows a thing or fuckin’ two about being unsupervised. 

And that’s not like, an aspersion on Wayne or anything he didn’t always work third shift but the man also didn’t come with Legal Guardian pre-equipped into his, like, ideal life trajectory or anything. So like, cut him a break. Wayne’s great. It's not that. It's like. It's fine. He turned out fine. (Totally.) He just spent a not insignificant amount of his adolescence kind of unsupervised for not insignificant periods of time. Thus the aforementioned thing or two.

(Not that anyone’s asking, but the loose threads at the knee of his jeans get stuck in the groove at the bottom of the window and he fumbles the landing, bangs his knee on the window frame on the way over, loud as fuck, but no one’s rushing to his drunken aid.)  And like yeah yeah yeah plenty of reason blah blah blah there’s definitely like. A learning curve to being 12 and home alone (or 10, or 8, or-), how you gotta ease yourself into the stuff you’re not allowed to do when someone’s around but need to, to like. Function. 

Your little solo performance for an audience of You where you figure something out about growing up or being grown or fail miserably. These might be those proverbial growing pains, honestly.

They end up in a pile on Robin’s bedroom floor, Robin’s head on Steve’s stomach, Steve’s head jammed up against the frame of her bed, flat on his back, with his hand idly fucking around with her hair up on his ribs. Eddie, a polite distance away from both, toe of his shoe inches from Steve's calf, which he can somehow innately sense through his fuckin' Reebok's. 

The mechanics of a turkey sandwich are like, entry level. Paper towel, bread, turkey, bread, done. Boom. Sandwich. Teach a man to fish, etc.

"My mom wouldn't leave me home alone until I was like, 16. She was so sure I was going to throw house parties or something. " Robin says, while they all stare at the popcorn ceiling trying to find shapes in the white pebbled canopy. "Like, my neighbor would be waiting for me in my living room when I got home from school it was so humiliating."

"Did you even have enough friends for house parties?" Steve snips at her and she reaches back and punches him in the waist, with an outraged little screech, fist really digging up under the soft place beneath his ribs and he kind of curls up around her resting head. Protecting his vulnerable midsection.

"What do you call this then?" she says, gesturing wildly to her bedroom ceiling. Like, you're here, you fuckin' sucker.

"Oh my god, Robin," Steve sounds so sad, like so fake sad and pitying, the mean girl that he is "if your mom is expecting house parties she's gonna be so sad."

Robin fuckin' cackles. Kind of bangs her head back into Steve's stomach. His poor fuckin' ribs.

Need a plate? No problem. Run it under the sink, pick the dried up shit on it off with your thumbnail. Plate. Done. Easy. 

"When Wayne started working third shift I was like, 15," he kind of gestures towards Robin, commiserating "he wasn't around at night so he could be home after school and shit. So it was just my stupid ass after hours. But like, I'd never lived in a place with a washing machine before and I was probably like, trying to make a good impression or something so I read the box of Tide, no shit, 20 times. And I got so stressed out about, like, washing temperatures and the scoop in the box and shit I just put dish soap in it and that shit does not work the same." Robin cackles into the silence of the empty house, and Steve snorts, kinda bangs his head on the underside of the bed frame. Like his skull hasn't been through enough. Now partially underneath it, having squirmed away a bit from Robin's ongoing onslaught of his torso. "Plus side though, that's absolutely how you get out of certain household chores for the indeterminate future. I totally fucked up the floor, there like a- fuckin'- bubble in it. Fridge door gets stuck on it. Wayne still bitches about it."

"But you tried!" Steve and Robin and their shared frontal cortex say at the same time.

"But I tried!" he echoes, letting his shoe brush against Steve's knee.

Pro tip? Phone rings? Don’t even answer it. That’s what they don’t tell you about phones, you don’t even have to answer it. The noise is all five alarm urgent like you gotta, worst fuckin' noise in the world like it’s gonna be a problem if you don’t. But you actually don’t. 

"There was this one time my parents were gone to this conference in Denver for like, two weeks, I think I must have been 10. And half the lights in the house died on day two. It was so weird. Like, the light in the fridge went out and I didn't even know they made light bulbs for that. There weren't even light bulbs in the house for lamps. I made dinner with a flashlight."

Steve's the only one laughing and maybe he knows it which is why he tries to cover. Double down. All on black. Its not like they don't both like. Know.

"They ended up staying another two weeks. You can totally make Kraft in the microwave, did you know that? I was so afraid of using the stove. Like, its still kind of crunchy, like the noodles or whatever but like- I'd never been allowed to, so I thought like, even home alone, I'd get yelled at if I tried. So I just. Didn't."

Get a little spooked by yourself? Get in your head a little? Trailer park too quiet? That tick tick tick ticking sound speeding up a little? Turn all the lights on in the trailer. Who’s gonna stop you? 

"And here we are." Robin says, and he's pretty sure he can hear her voice echo down the empty hallway.

[riahlynn101]

Day Fifteen: "I'm Fine."

Set in the FNAF movie universe.

Thank you, guys, for all the support on this story! You're the best <3

Trigger warnings: blood, implied injuries, childhood trauma, and guilt.

--

The blood has not yet dried when Michael’s pulled away for questioning. 

The police are ruthless, and no one is around to stop them. He’s pretty sure what they’re doing is illegal, but it’s hard to form a thought, let alone a coherent sentence. He’s trembling, eyes moving rapidly from left to right. The lights are too bright, and the police talk in loud, booming voices.

It’s hard to think.

It’s hard to talk.

Michael rubs his fingers together. Some of the blood flakes off, reminding him for the millionth time of what’s occurred. 

He squeezes his eyes shut. It eases his headache (but only a little bit). 

Michael takes a deep breath. The air tastes stale. Is that even possible? Can air taste stale? He thinks of the popcorn his dad bought him and Garrett at the movies that sat on the counter for a week. By the time they got to it, all the crunch was gone. The air doesn’t taste like that, though. It’s more like an old room that hasn’t been opened in a long, long-

“Kid,” one of the officers snaps. “Wake up.”

Michael looks at them, confused. “Can I go home?”

The officer-the one that snapped at him-opens his mouth to respond, but another places a hand on his shoulder, shaking her head. He sighs, heavily. “Get out of here.”

Muttering a thanks, Michael stumbles his way to the diner’s front doors. It’s chilly outside. A typical November day. He realizes too late that he forgot his sweatshirt at the diner but going back means seeing the blood.

And the lights are too bright and the voices too loud and-

He takes a deep breath, calming himself.

Michael starts walking in the general direction of the hospital. The nearest one’s thirty miles away, but if he keeps moving he’ll make it there eventually. Michael wraps his arms around himself, shivering. 

He walks for a long time, eyes focused straight ahead. If Michael stops, he’s afraid he might pass out. 

The sky starts to darken, and the streetlights come on.

He forces himself forward, thinking only of getting to the hospital. Garrett. He needs to see his brother. 

It’s freezing now, but Michael pays no mind to it. He puts one foot in front of the other. He has to be close to the hospital by now. He has to be. 

A car stops next to him, parking. A woman hurriedly gets out. Her blonde hair is tied into a bun. She wears a dark-colored pants suit, and when she grabs Michael and forces him into the car, he gets a whiff of an expensive-smelling perfume. 

He struggles, but only because he’s bound and determined to make it to the hospital before sunrise. The woman wins, buckling him in and shutting the door. Michael goes to open the door, but the woman’s already climbing inside and starting the car. 

His heart races. 

He needs to get out. He needs to leave. His little brother. He needs to see Garrett. 

The woman’s voice blends into the background, mixing with the jingle on the radio, and the steady thrum of the heater. 

Michael closes his eyes, trying to block it all out. 

There’s a tap on his shoulder.

He screams and screams and screams….until he’s out of breath.

The car is roughly pulled to the side of the road. The woman parks, fixing Michael with a stern expression.

“Michael,” she says, pointedly. “What the hell was that?”

“Hospital….I need to go- I need to see….” he trails off.

“Michael,” the woman demands, concern edging into her tone, “look at me.” 

He continues to look at his lap, eyes not focusing on anything. The woman leans over and takes his face in her hands. She forces him to look at her. “Michael,” she says again, slower. “Mike, please, answer me.”

Michael blinks, startled. “...Aunt Jane?” 

He’s pulled into a hug. “Are you okay?”

Michael leans into the hug. “I’m fine,” he murmurs. 

 He’s not, and it's obvious Aunt Jane doesn’t believe him either. She stares at him, and Michael wonders what she sees. 

“Okay, okay,” she says, pulling away. Her voice is shaky and strained, like she’s holding herself back from crying. Aunt Jane has never been the emotional type. She shares that with his dad. When mom walked out on him and Garrett, she was the one that took over the maternal role. His dad would drop him and his brother off with her for weeks at a time, too busy to care for them. And in that time, no matter how stressed out she was, Aunt Jane never cried. So, the fact that she’s trying so hard not to now , makes Michael feel even worse. 

He did that.

He caused all this pain and hurt and suffering. 

His stomach twists, and he has to close his eyes to stave off a wave of nausea. 

Aunt Jane continues, “here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to take you to the hospital, then I’ll take you home to get cleaned up and to pack a bag.”

“For what?” Michael stupidly asks, resting his head on the window. The cool glass feels nice on his too-warm forehead. 

“You’ll be staying with me for a while.”

“Because dad doesn’t want me anymore.” There’s no emotion in his voice. It’s not a question, but Aunt Jane answers it anyway. 

“ Because your dad needs some time alone. You know how he can be.”

Michael mumbles an agreement. 

Aunt Jane sighs, reaching over to ruffle his hair. “This won’t be forever. Just until Garrett gets better.”

That makes him feel a little bit better. If Aunt Jane says he’ll get better, then Michael should have some hope. He relaxes in his seat. The car pulls back onto the road. 

Garrett will be just fine.

He has to be. 

Michael needs to tell him how sorry he is, and how much his little brother means to him. 

How-sometimes-the only thing that keeps him going is Garrett’s reassuring presence. 

How-whenever there’s a storm raging outside-he needs his brother just as much as Garrett needs him. 

How, when mom left them, Michael had a hard time leaving his brother at home, because he was convinced that when he got home Garrett would be gone too. And that terrified him more than anyone else leaving him. More than Aunt Jane or Uncle Henry or even dad. 

His little brother will be fine. 

He has to be, because Michael can’t live in a world without him. 

[eratolasting]

eddie angst + fluff with (gender neutral or fem) reader who’s scared of thunderstorms? like at first when the storm and raining starts the reader is trying to act like they’re okay but eddie’s kinda picking up on the shift in their mood and when the power goes out and the storm gets more intense they start crying? you take it from there! LOVEEE your works<3

Summary: It's a stormy night in Hawkins

Warnings: None just floof

Beta Reader(s): @lancaerielcotume (spc guest @mypoisonedvine)

MINORS DNI. 18+ ONLY

You were sitting on the couch with Eddie, his arm draped over your shoulders and a bowl of popcorn resting in your lap as Halloween was playing on TV. You were just enjoying your night, leaning against your new boyfriend and taking in his company. The two of you had only been dating for a few weeks, but every day seemed to get better and better if you were completely honest. 

Suddenly, there was a soft pattering at the window and you turned to look at it in concern. “Was there rain on the forecast for tonight?” You asked him, trying to act nonchalant. 

“Hm? Oh, I don’t know, I don’t really watch the news.” He responded as he picked up another piece of popcorn to plop into his mouth. “Seems like it, though. Probably just a light storm.”

You were normally more careful about it. As a general rule, you kept up with the weekly forecast to a slightly obsessive degree; it was your way of managing your anxiety about storms. However this week… maybe you let yourself slip.

You didn’t know.

You turned back to the TV and tried to focus on the movie, even with the hair on the back of your neck prickling at the sound of the rain hitting the windows.

Eventually, the pattering became louder, the rain hitting the glass harder. You tensed up a bit and snuggled deeper into Eddie’s side. He’d protect you. You knew he would.

“You okay?” He asked you.

“Yeah.” You nodded, burying yourself impossibly deeper into his side. 

“You sure?” He brushed some of your hair off of your forehead.

“Yes, babe. I’m sure.”

He seemed to let it go for a moment, his eyes turning back to the TV.

You knew you could handle this, with Eddie by your side. You had to. You didn’t want to look like a baby. It was just a storm, you needed to grow up.

Then the thunder came; loud and booming. You gasped, tossing the popcorn in the air. It came down onto you and Eddie like a soft rain of its own. He laughed. 

“Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” He pet your hair back gently.

You nodded, throwing your legs in his lap for good measure as he held you close, rubbing your back softly.

“Scared of storms?” He asked you gently.

Before you could respond, another loud rolling thunder came through and the lights suddenly went out.

You began hyperventilating. 

“Hey…shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He pressed his cheek to your forehead and rocked you back and forth softly.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks as you tried to catch your breath. You never handled storms well, especially when you weren’t at home. 

“I’ve got you… you’re okay.” He cooed softly to you, smooching your head before pressing his cheek back against it. “I promise. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, ever.”

You nodded, a blubbering mess, as his hand came up to softly brush away your tears.

“You trust me?” He asked. 

You nodded again.

“Alright, let me - “

He picked you up, surprisingly strong, and carried you down the hallway to his bedroom. Once there he placed you on his bed but you clung to him like a koala, not wanting to let go. You whined.

“Baby, I promise I’m gonna make it better, okay? You just gotta let me go.”

You did - although - reluctantly and brought your hands to your face to wipe it clean. 

He brought back a pair of headphones, his guitar over his front. “Put these on. I’m gonna play for you until the storm stops, okay?”

You nodded, and he plugged his guitar into the amp. The sounds went straight to your headphones as he strummed slowly. 

You wondered how he could play so well when he couldn’t hear what he was playing, but with your eyes squeezed shut against the lightning and the headphones on your ears, you couldn’t tell it was storming.

When he stopped playing twenty minutes later, you looked up at him and took the headphones off. 

“See? You did it.” He grinned down at you and bent at the waist to kiss you. 

You flushed, your hands cupping his cheeks to give him a big smooch back. “Thank you.” You whispered to him. 

He brushed back some of your hair and leaned up to kiss your forehead after that. 

“You’re very welcome, princess. Anytime.” 

. . . . . . . . . .

Tag list: @eddiemunsons-girl @spiderrrling

[x-reader-writer]

Hii can I request for Peter parker x male reader.

The reader is taller than him, dominant and has piercings, and peter comes out to the avengers as bi and tells them that he has a boyfriend. They're sceptical first but then they see peter sitting on readers lap and them being affectionate and sweet and laughing at jokes they make.

If this contains anything that makes you uncomfortable pls ignore this.

Thank uuu.

A/N: Hi!! Of course you can. I don't do nsfw posts, but I can make the reader seem more confident to fill that gap!

Sorry it's taken so long!! I hope this is alright!

I'm coming out

Pairing: Peter Parker x Male! Reader

~~~~~

"Baby, it's gonna be okay."

"But what if it's not! What if they yell, or they hate me, or Mr. Stark wants to never see me again, or-"

You quickly grab your boyfriend's hands to stop him from talking. "Babe, none of that will happen," you say calmly, with a gentle tone. "Do you know why? It's because they're decent people who adore you, Pete, just like I do."

"You think so?" Peter asks nervously, blushing from the compliment from his partner.

"I know so," you reply, a gentle smile gracing your face.

~~~~~

Peter was stood in the elevator, his foot anxiously tapping on the slightly metallic flooring. He lets out a long, deep breath, trying to control his anxiety.

The doors then open, on the penthouse of the Avengers Tower (formerly Stark Tower). Peter steps out and looks around the common room.

All of the Avengers were sat on the sofas and little chairs, lounging around and watching a Disney movie. Peter was amused slightly as he saw that Bucky was sat on Sam's lap as a joke (Peter could tell he just wanted to sit there-).

Peter then quietly clears his throat. It wasn't the best idea, as the movie was playing quite loudly, so nobody could hear him. He takes a deep breath and then loudly cough.

Everyone in the room jumps, even causing Tony to make his popcorn go flying. Everyone looks over at the teen, who nervously rubs his arm.

"Oh hey, Pete," Tony says, picking up a handful of his popcorn that had landed on his lap. "What're you doing here? It's not Friday yet."

"Sorry about scaring you all," Peter says quickly. He then replies to his mentor saying, "Yeah, sorry about coming earlier than expected Mr. Stark, but I wanted to talk to you. To you all."

"What is it, son?" Steve asks, smiling gently at the teen (no, Peter isn't actually his son, Steve's just old). Peter stays looking awkward and nervous, so he encourages, "It's okay, we're here for whatever it is, Peter."

"I'm bisexual," Peter blurts out. The room goes silent. He then quietly mumbles, "And I have a boyfriend."

Peter grips at his arm tightly waiting for some type of reaction, the silence dragging on.

"No," is the first thing said after minutes of silence. Unsurprisingly, it was Steve who had said this. Peter had kind of expected him and Bucky to react slightly badly towards this as they were from a different time period where they didn't accept gay people.

Peter then feels hope as he sees Tony going to say something. However it is shattered when the words 'I'm sorry Pete, but bisexuality isn't a thing' come out of his mentors mouth.

"What?" Peter whimpers, taking a step back in surprise and hurt.

"Tony, that's a bit harsh," Natasha says, glaring at the man. She then looks at Peter with a straight face and states, "However, that doesn't mean that you are Bisexual. You're just confused and need to find the right girl for you."

Peter shakes his head and turns back around to leave the penthouse, ignoring the calls from the avengers, especially the shouts and demands to come back and to stop being stupid.

~~~~~

Peter was sat in your lap, crying into your shoulder. You were gently shushing him and smoothing his hair, whispering in his ear it was okay.

"I'm really sorry, Petey, I pushed you into this-"

"It's not your fault," Peter replies, sniffling as he wiped his nose.

"And it's not yours either," you reply, gently poking his chest to prove your point. "They were wrong to say that and do that to you, I'm glad I was here waiting for you so you could come to me. Otherwise, I don't know what would have happened."

Peter nods and sniffles, wiping his nose with his hand. You chuckle softly and grab a tissue from your pocket (what? Peter cried a lot, you liked to be prepared!) and hand it to him with a smile. He smiles back at you and blows his nose.

"Better, Dumbo?" You ask, teasing him with the name.

Peter giggles and says, "Better, n/n."

You grin and then say, "uh oh, I see someone coming.." Peter looks at you confused, but you simply raise your hands slowly. Peter pales slightly before squealing and trying to get away from you as you start tickling his sides. He laughs and giggles, kicking and squirming on your lap. "Tickle monster!"

After a few minutes, Peter's sad tears had turned into tears of laughter. So you stopped and smirked at him as he was still laughing and blushing from the tickle 'fight'.

You lean down and kiss his nose, which makes him blush gently. then you start kissing all over his face, making him a blushing mess.

"Ksh, mission complete boys, ksh," you state, pretending you had a Walkie talkie, making Peter giggle at you and move up to cuddle up to you. You grin and gently smooth his back.

"And who are you?" A male voice says, interrupting the peaceful atmosphere between the two.

You look up and glare at the group who had approached you. The Avengers. The ones who hurt your boyfriend.

"What do you want?"

"We heard from security there was a random guy sat here, so we came to see who you were, and then we saw you touching up Peter," Clint says, glaring at you.

"Excuse me?" You state, shocked at what he had said, as you had hardly even touched your boyfriend, only holding his head and hugging him.

"Who. Are. You?" Bucky says, getting angry.

"I'm Y/n L/n, aka, Peter's boyfriend," you growl. You then hold Peter gently as you pull him closer, feeling extra protective over him as everyone starts yelling their complaints and how much they disagreed.

"What on Midgard is going on here?" You hear a booming voice call out.

Both you and Peter look over first. You see that the owner of the voice was Thor Odinson, next to him was stood a very pissed looking Loki.

"I think we both know what is happening here, brother," Loki replies, a muscle in their forehead spasming, almost comically. You would have found it amusing if not for the situation at hand.

Tony replies to Thor's question, ignoring Loki had said anything, "Peter is apparently 'Bisexual' and this random guy is his 'boyfriend'. I'm thinking he's a hydra agents and has brainwashed-"

"Enough!" Thor yells, glaring at Tony and the group. "How dare you make rude comments about these poor boys! Bisexuality is a common thing among Asgardians, Loki himself is one! Bisexuality is common amongst many things, even the animals on your own planet are bisexual, gay or any of the other LGBTQ community! You should not slander such a group, especially as they are such a huge quantity of the population, and not only of this planet or your species!"

The room was silent, even you included.

Loki walks over to Peter and gently pat's his head, their face soft and a gentle smile was placed upon their lips. "You are the Peter child, yes?" The brunette nods at the god, who smiles more in return. "Here is a little secret of my own that I've been keeping from everyone, that I shall share. It will mean that I'm joining you in, as Midgardians say, 'coming out'."

Loki then turns to the group and says, "I have something to say too. I, myself, am genderfluid. And I identify as a female today."

The room is silent again.

"I have a sister!" Thor says excitedly, picking Loki up and twirling her around. Loki smiles, happy Thor had accepted her.

"Woah, that's so cool, Ms. Loki!" Peter squeals, smiling brightly. "Oh wait, do you still want to be called that?"

"Yes, Loki is perfectly fine, child" she replies, smiling back.

[rowyn-writes]

A Mother's Love (Dean x Wife!Reader)

Warnings: Language, fluff, major angst, implications of divorce, arguing, Dean being mean to Jack

Pairings: Dean x Wife!Reader

Characters: Dean, Jack, Sam, Reader, Cas (mentioned only)

Word count: 2.7k

You threw your bag down as you entered the bunker, exhausted from your last hunt. This was one of the rare cases where you worked alone.

Sometimes you needed the time to yourself, away from all the men. Sometimes you would go hunting with Jody and Claire, but even then, those two argued like cats and dogs.

"Y/N," Jack smiled as you entered the kitchen. "How was the hunt?"

"It was pretty good, actually." You grinned as you sat across from him. "I was chasing down this werewolf in Tennessee, and it was really strange. He'd kill one person, turn the next, and repeat that cycle."

"That's. . . Weird." He furrowed his eyebrows.

"That's what I said. Well," You continued on with the story of your hunt, watching as Jack's eyes widened in amazement and awe.

"Y/N?" Dean called your name, entering the kitchen. "Hey, sweetheart. I didn't know you were home?"

You stood up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Sorry, babe. I got sidetracked. I was just telling Jack about my trip." You smiled, looking over at the boy. You were concerned, as the smile fell from his face and he looked away from you and Dean. "You okay, kid?"

"Yeah," He nodded, not meeting your eye. "I'll give you two some space." He mumbled as he walked out of the kitchen.

"Does he seem off to you?" You asked Dean.

"Nah, he acts like he usually does. Squirrelly and weird."

"Says the squirrel himself." You rolled your eyes. "Did something happen while I was gone?"

Dean said nothing as he looked down, an obvious indicator that he was guilty of something. "Dean," You growled lowly. "Did you say something to Jack? Something that would upset him somehow?"

When Dean didn't give you an answer, you shook your head as you follow Jack to his room.

"Jack." You called out. He seemed to be lost in thought, as he didn't react to your words. "Jack!" You said louder, causing him to turn around. There was a tiny amount of fear in his eyes. If you didn't know him, it wouldn't have affected you.

"What's wrong?" You asked softly, resting your hand on his shoulder.

"Nothing." He spoke. "Why would anything be wrong?"

"Jack, I saw how you reacted when Dean came in. You looked like a kicked puppy. Don't tell me it's nothing, kiddo."

In the time you had known Jack, you had grown to care for him deeply. You had always wanted kids, but in this life, it wasn't possible. Well, it was, but you knew you didn't want your children to do what you do. So when Jack was born, you felt extremely happy because it felt like you finally had a child. Albeit, he did look twenty.

"Dean doesn't like me very much." He admitted.

"I'm sure that's not true. . ." You argued weakly. In all honesty, you didn't think Dean liked Jack either. It's not like he was abusive, but he did treat him differently than everyone else.

"But it is, Y/N."

"How do you know, Jack? With Dean, it takes him time to warm up to people. It took him months to actually trust me. He's a cautious person."

"Did he threaten you too?" Jack asked, genuinely curious. His head was tilted to the side, his honey blonde hair falling into his eyes. He had gotten that head tilt from Cas.

"Dean. . . Threatened you?" You whispered hoarsely.

"Yes," He nodded. "He told me if I hurt you or Sam, or anyone, that he would be the one to hunt me down and kill me."

Your mouth popped open in horror. You could never imagine your sweet, loveable, goofy Dean threatening Jack. "What else did he say, Jack? Did he say anything prior to this?"

"He said that he doesn't think that I can be saved. He said that even though you and Sam think that I can, that he doesn't."

"Jack, you don't need to be saved. There is no saving to do. You are a good kid. You would never do anything to intentionally hurt anyone. I'm so sorry. I should have been there." You sigh.

"He's not wrong, Y/N. I can't be saved. What if I turn out like my father, my real father."

You frowned as you cupped his face in your hands. "Jack, you are nothing, and I mean nothing, like Lucifer. You are just like your mother. You are sweet, caring, and you are empathetic. Just like Kelly."

"You really believe that?" He whispered, tears forming in his eyes.

"No, I don't believe it, Jack. I know it. You are nothing like Lucifer. If anything, you are much more like Castiel."

"Really?" He smiled.

"Yeah," You nodded. "You see, I don't know if you know this, but Cas does this little thing where he tilts his head to the side if he doesn't understand something or if he's perplexed. And I noticed that you do the same thing." Jack's smile widened as you removed your hands from his face. "And neither of you have any knowledge of pop culture. Even though Cas was here for a lot longer than you, he never understood a single reference any of us made. Even if it was something like Scooby Doo." You giggled, feeling your throat tightening at the thought of your dead friend. "And you two state the obvious a lot. Not in a bad way, more in a comedic way. It lightens the mood nearly every time. Cas would rarely smile. When I asked him why, he would say that the world was going to hell and he didn't have anything to smile about. But when he did smile, it would make everyone else smile with him. The same goes for you. Just seeing that little toothy grin of yours makes me smile. I mean hell, you two even look a lot alike."

"Could you tell me more about him?" Jack asked.

"Of course, but I have something to take care of first. Then you and I will cuddle up and watch a movie and I'll tell you everything you want to know about Cas, okay?"

"Yeah, I'd like that." He spoke. "Before you go, could I ask you something?" You nodded. "If I were to have a mother figure, and I called her mom, do you think my mother would be upset?"

"No, sweetheart, I don't think she would be upset. I think that she would be happy that there's someone down here taking care of you and you feel comfortable enough to call them mom." You said, completely oblivious as to what Jack was suggesting.

"Then. . . Could I call you mom?"

You felt the air leave your lungs as his words hit you like a truck. Jack watched as tears welled up in your eyes. Jack was horrified; he had never meant to make you cry. "Yo-you want to call me m-mom?" You stammer.

"If you're not comfortable with it I understand. I'm sorry, Y/N, I-"

You cut him off with a tight embrace. "Of course you can call me mom." You whisper, squeezing the boy tightly.

"Why are you crying?" He questioned.

"These are happy tears, Jack. I'm not upset. It's just. . . I never thought that I would have children, but then you came along, and you gave me what I wanted. You gave me a chance to be a mother."

"Thank you for being here for me, mom."

You gave Jack a huge smile as you pulled away. "Okay," You said, putting a hand on his arm. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to deal with my ass of a husband."

---

"Dean Winchester," You boomed, roaming around the bunker in search for your husband.

"Ooooh, you're in trouble." You hear Sam snicker.

"But I didn't do anything. Wait, what day is it?" Dean asked frantically.

"April ninth." Sam quipped.

"Okay, no birthday, no anniversary, so there's that."

You entered The Dean Cave, as Dean called it, seeing red. "What the hell, Winchester." You growled. "Sam, out. Now."

"You don't have to tell me twice." Sam said, grabbing his bowl of popcorn and walking out of the room.

"Yes, darling, sweetheart, love of my life. What can I do for you?" Dean spoke sweetly, giving you those stupid, green doe eyes.

"Jack told me." You said simply. "He told me what you said to him. That if it comes down to killing him, that you would be the one to do it. That there was no saving him."

"Y/N, you have to understand where I'm coming from." He tried to reason with you. "You should have seen him. He was stabbing himself with a knife! And it closed up like it was nothing! It's not  normal. He's not normal."

"And?! None of us are normal, Dean. We've all died and came back to life. Sam didn't have a soul, he was hooked on demon blood, yet you were still there for him. You still believed in him. You died and became a demon, you bore the Mark of Cain and had a thing for God's friggin sister! And I still loved you through it. I have been brainwashed and manipulated into hurting all of you, and you still forgave me! Cas betrayed us, and we were still there for him. None of us are fucking normal! So what the hell, Dean? You're holding a grudge against Jack just because of who his dad is?"

"His father is Lucifer, Y/N!"

"Well that's stating the goddamn obvious!" You yelled.

"He could turn on us at any moment! We don't know this kid. We don't know what he can do."

"So we learn, Dean! We should help him figure out his way. Guide him in the right direction. Show him what a true, loving family looks like!"

"We are not his family, Y/N! And he's not our family. He never will be." Dean argued.

You flinched back, glaring at Dean. "How dare you! You son of a bitch! Whether you believe it or not, Jack is family. To me and to Sam. We care about him and love him!"

"He doesn't even know what love means!"

"Yes, he does! Because he feels things, Dean. He cares. He cares about all of us, including you. You know, he asked me if he could call me mom today. Did you know that? He trusts me and cares for me so much that he sees me as a mother figure."

"He's got you brainwashed, Y/N! Can't you see that?!"

"If he looked like his actual age, would you be acting like this?"

"What kind of question is that." He scoffed.

"If Jack looked four months old instead of twenty, would you still be treating him like this?" You asked steadily. Dean remained silent. "See! He is four months old, no matter how old he looks, he's still a baby."

"So, what, you want me to change his diaper or some shit?"

"No! I want you to treat him like a human being!" You yelled.

"But he's not human!"

You and Dean stood your ground, neither of you letting up. "Fine. I'm leaving then. And I'm taking Jack with me."

"No, you're not."

"Fucking watch me, Dean. I can't even look at you right now. Because you are not the man I married. That man was compassionate and caring. This one isn't. And until he comes back, I'm staying away." You cried.

Before Dean could get another word out, you left the den. You noticed that Sam was standing in the hallway, giving you a saddened look. "You're really leaving?"

"I'm sorry, Sam." You sobbed. "But I can't be around him right now. And I don't think Jack should be either. We're going to my parents house for a while. And until he gets his shit together, I'm not coming back.

"I know. I don't understand why Dean is acting like this." He mumbled.

"I don't either. It's so unlike him." You agreed.

"So what are you going to tell Jack?"

"Just that we're going to take a little road trip and visit my parents. I don't know, Sam, this whole thing is so strange to me. But I know have to go."

Sam frowned as he pulled you into a hug. "I'm really going to miss you. But you do what you need to do. And if you ever need anything, you call me, okay? I don't care what time of day it is, call me."

"I will." You squeeze Sam tightly. "Thank you for being an amazing brother and best friend." You pulled away, teary eyed as you parted from your brother in law. "I hope to be back soon."

You softly knocked on Jack's door before entering. "Hey, Jack." You smiled.

"Mom!" He said excitedly. "Are we going to watch movies now?"

"Actually, there's been a change of plans. Me and you are going on a road trip to visit my parents."

"Really? Are Sam and Dean coming with us?"

You swallowed hard, a lump forming in your throat. "No, actually. This is a trip just for us. Sam and Dean wanted to stay here just in case they find a case or something that can get Mary back from apocalypse world. So I'm going to help you pack and then we can get on the road."

---

You had sent Jack to your car, having him put everything in the trunk while you finished up things in the bunker. The last thing you grabbed was a machete that belonged to your father before he gave it to you.

"Don't go." A voice whispered. You turned to see Dean, who looked like he had been crying. "Please don't leave."

You swallowed hard, feeling tears rush to your eyes once more. "Will you accept Jack as family?"

"Y/N-" Dean said, exasperated. "He can stayed here but he's not family."

"That's not good enough, Dean. Because I know how you act around people you don't trust."

"You can't force me to trust him." Dean scoffed.

"That's not what I want. I want you to get to know him. I want you to try."

"Y/N. . . I just. . . I can't."

"I think. . . I think we need time apart." You mumbled.

"Y/N, please –"

"Only for a little bit." You assured him. "They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, after all." You gave him a sad smile, trying to control your tears.

You turned to leave before Dean's voice stopped you. "If you leave, then we're over. That's it. Don't bother coming home."

You sighed as you looked back at Dean. You cupped his face in your hands and gave him a slow, sensual kiss. You could feel salty tears on your lips as you memorized how Dean's mouth felt against yours. It was warm and soft. You could taste the remnants whiskey on his breath.

You pulled away slightly, resting your forehead on Dean's. You felt tears streaming down your face as you looked the man you had grown to love over the past ten years. You had been through hell and back, literally. You had lost each other, fell out of love and back in love.

"This isn't goodbye, Dean." You whimpered. "I swear it isn't. I love you with every part of my soul. I'm not choosing Jack over you, okay? I just need time. I need you to wait for me."

"That's all I've ever done, Y/N." Dean shook his head. "I waited on you when you were in relationships, when you were heartbroken, when your sister died, I waited on you to love me back. I'm tired of waiting. I will always love you, and you'll always be with me. You've changed me, and I'm so thankful for it. You've made me a better man. But I can't. . . I can't keep doing this, Y/N." He whispered as he slipped off his wedding band. "This is goodbye." He set the ring in your hand, curling your fingers around it. "Goodbye, sweetheart." He gave you one final kiss. But this one was rough and full of passion. It really was goodbye.

"Dean, please." You cried. He pressed a swift kiss to the crown of your head before leaving you standing alone in the library. Sobs racked through your body as you clutched Dean's ring to your chest. "Please come back." You whispered.

You wiped your face of tears and stuck Dean's ring in your pocket. There would be time for tears later. Right now you just needed to get out of the bunker. As you looked around the library, you realized you had never felt this alone.

[zegumi]

Ushijima Wakatoshi SFW alphabet

alphabet template here

fluff I sfw I gn reader I hcs

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

at first he's quite hesitant on showing affection, wondering if you're comfortable with him being that close to you. he starts off easy: holding hands, letting you rest on him... etc.

once he feels more comfortable with you, he starts placing his head in your lap and giving you little kisses here and there

his favourite forms of affection are: forehead/cheek kisses, back hugs, holding pinkies, and resting his head on your shoulder

when you’re not around he shows affection by talking to you to his closer teammates but subtly, he brings up your name once in a while and a teammate will tease "ooo somebody's in looove" and he starts blushing profusely, asking if they can go back to practice, but the thought of you never leaves

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

being best friends with ushijima seems very rare, he's pretty selective with letting people close enough to earn that title

with you it was unexpected, you weren't afraid or cautious of his stoic upfront. you sat next to him in class and tried to make conversation with him, making sure to include him in conversations and asking how he's doing once in a while. he lets his guard down a little and you guys get even closer, he even invites you over to help with some schoolwork and suddenly you guys are spending more time together outside of school

he's kind of hesitant to call you a best friend, but when he sees that you’re okay calling him yours, he adopts the same title

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

yes yes yes and yes

he is always behind you, resting your head on top of his. if not he'll be facing upwards, lying on his back, your head will be resting on his shoulder and he'll have his arm wrapped around your waist.

he's definitely 99% always the big spoon

but on the rare occasion he wants to be the little spoon, he has both his arms wrapped around your waist, with his head on your chest, your hand running through his hair while your legs are intertwined absolute bliss

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

hell yeah

he's a sucker for the domestic life, waking up with you in your sub-urban house, a train ride away from the city. making cakes with you in your green painted kitchen which took you way longer than it needed to bc you kept messing around

he can cook, oh my, he buys some cookbooks and you guys spend some time with each other

I feel like he wants kids, some mini him and you running around, if not he'll adopt some

him teaching his kids to play volleyball in the backyard, him brushing their teeth and reading them bedtime stories and them giving them a little kiss goodnight cuteness overload

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

definitely depends on the reason why you're breaking up, but in this scenario, let's say he hasn't been home enough and you guys feel like you're not with each other enough pain

he really dreads having to break up with you, but he knows you deserve more than someone who is barely home. he's not harsh about it, he sits you down at a time when you guys are both free and explains why, "maybe the time isn't right, right now"

even though he broke it off, he still thinks about it quite a lot, he really hopes that you guys will find your way back to each other one day even if he knows that it won't be possible bc right now you're happier with someone else :( i love angst

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

his volleyball career kinda gets in the way of him wanting to commit to you, but he wants to show you that you mean the world to him, so i think he proposes in his mid-late twenties

his proposal isn't really that over the top, but he takes you out first for a fancy dinner with the excuse 'can't i treat you once in a while'. it's quite dark outside and you guys are looking over the city, you turn around to ask him something and you see him down one knee lovely

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

he is very gentle... probably bc of his strict upbringing, but he makes sure not to hurt you in any way

he becomes so much more gentle with his words, careful of saying the wrong words because he can't stand the thought of losing you

physically, he tries to make sure not to accidentally knock into you bc this man is so big and if you get ill ushijima is doing anything in his power to get you better, he tries not to get sick in the process, but having you care for him doesn't seem like the worst idea

emotionally, he tries to support you, but he's not the greatest at dealing with emotions, but when supporting you he tries comforting you rather than trying to solve your problems

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

at the beginning of the relationship, i think his hugs are kind of stiff-ish, but once you guys get more comfortable he goes all in

he's such a good hugger. he doesn't do half-hugs, it's all of it or nothing, he engulfs you with his strong arms a little bit too tight but who needs air

if he feels extra clingy back hugs. he loves the feeling of having your figure pressing against his, sometimes his hands grip onto your waist and he'll sway you back and forth while humming to his favourite song

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

as I've mentioned before, you're the first one to say ily in the relationship, but he says it back straight after

i like to think this happens about 5/6 months into the relationship, just when you guys start getting really comfortable around each other

as for using the L-word, he doesn't really say it that often, he believes when something is overused it isn't as special. he only uses it when it needs to be said

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

he doesn't really get jealous easily bc he's kind of oblivious or chooses not to pay attention to it

but when he catches on to whatever's going on, his eyebrows furrow and he'll just give the stare, he'll come near you and put an arm around your waist and slyly try to join the conversation

he knows what he's doing and so does everyone else

the person you're talking to gets a bit intimidated and tries to end the conversation as quickly as possible

you'll try to tease him for his jealously and he'd just change the subject and starts blushing a little, if you try to bring it up later he'd be like 'huh what was that sorry i don't remember'

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

I'm not good with this type of stuff ahh

he's actually pretty good at kissing. he likes soft kisses and little pecks on the shoulder and forehead.

when he's rough or needy, he gets really handsy like hands cupping your cheeks, in your hair, hands pulling your waist in - just very intimate

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

lazy mornings bc who likes being productive all the time

he likes sleeping in on days he has nothing to do, so he’ll be behind you hugging your waist and his head resting on your back, you try to stand up so you can get breakfast done but he pulls you back and says 'come on, just a little more', you know that means another hour but you still get sucked back into his warm embrace

you end up falling asleep and wake up with noises coming from the kitchen. you walk in on him wearing just an apron and his pajama pants, dancing to the radio while making pancakes for breakfast

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

again lazy evening edition bc why not

he comes home early that day, brings home your favourite snacks and asks if you want to watch a movie with him

he grabs a few blankets from your room and you guys decide to watch 13 going on 30 one of my comfort movies

halfway through the movie, he places his head on your laps asking for you to play with his hair, he lies down and you throw some popcorn and skittles in his mouth every few minutes, you tried pouring water but he started choking and spat water all over your shirt

it gets pretty late and cold so he changes you into his hoodie and carries you over to the bedroom. you guys fall asleep to the hums of the city below

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

he's a very reserved person, and i think it's just the way he was raised, talking about feelings wasn't normal in his home growing up

i think with you it takes him some time to open up, he reveals a few things about him and his childhood here and there but nothing major

he doesn't talk about how he feels enough, so it kinda relies on you being able to notice a change in his behaviour which might I say seems extremely hard

i think if you start being more open to him, then he follows on

he gets more comfortable with his emotions around you first and then starts being more open to his team - just give him some time he gets there

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

oh he's so patient, so patient

it takes a LOT to anger him, i don't think you ever have or ever will see this man angry, tbh i don't think you would want to

if you ever lash out at him, he'd sit down and understand where you're coming from, he'd try to calm you down and give you a second to let it all out

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?)

he remembers everything, literally everything

you mentioned that you liked mangos yesterday, and boom you've got a lifetime supply in your kitchen /s

he keeps a little note in his notes app just making sure he doesn't forget anything, he has your favourite orders, skin/hair care products you use, and little stuff like your favourite show in there

he does this bc he loves how your eyes beam after realising he remembers the little details

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

this one hc is why this took so long, so I decided not to do bc my brain isn’t responding

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

ushijima isn't the overprotective type although he is protective

he doesn't care what you wear or how you present yourself, as long as you’re comfortable, you will have his full support

if he sees someone making you uncomfortable, he is always quick to jump in and say "you're making them uncomfortable can you please excuse yourself". if he sees a situation is making you feel uneasy he will take you and leave, to calm you down or to clear your mind, which ever one is the best choice in that moment

he doesn't feel the need to be protected, he believes that hes strong enough for the both of you sometimes he needs a little help so pls do step in

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

such a big try hard, he puts so much effort into dates, anniversaries, and even mundane everyday activities.

even far into your relationship he still pulls up at your door with a suit and a flower bouquet which he seems to never forget

he always wants everything to be perfect so you'll never forget

he enjoys surprising you with little gifts to remind you that he still cares. he seems like the type to buy you a promise ring, and oh my is it beautiful

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

this is hard bc in my eyes this man can't do any wrong, but its probably how he can't express his emotions very well

everyone gets in a bad mood once in a while, but for ushijima its different, the stress of volleyball gets to him and he just ends up shutting everyone out, including you. he was never taught how to properly talk abt how he feels so he just holds it in with never intending to let it out

if you try to ask him whats wrong then he just grunts and shrugs it off

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

he isn’t insecure for how he looks physically, he works out and maintains a healthy lifestyle, and he was blessed with that beautiful face of his *chefs' kiss

he's always hygienic (bare minimum), he cuts his hair regularly, keeps his hands nice and clean, with his nails well-trimmed

he likes to keep his appearance up and always looks like he should be on the front cover of a magazine but so effortlessly

bonus: he smells so good, he wears expensive cologne and zooweemama its so tasty, you'll hug him and never want to let go just because

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

he wouldn't necessarily feel incomplete with out you, he'd feel a bit empty

he forgets how much he misses you when he goes abroad for matches and he can't see you for a week straight. he makes sure to send videos and voice notes rather than texts so you can send some back. he video calls everyday, no matter the time difference just so he can see you in real time

if you guys take a break in the relationship, he finds his self drifting back into his stoic shell. he tries his best not to bc he knows how much he loves the person you've helped him become

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

doesn't know how to flirt hehe

he tries to use a smooth pick up line once in a while but they all end up with him in a flustered mess before he can even finish a sentence, i think we should leave the flirting to you

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

liars/dishonest people

he can't stand it when somebody lies to him, its agitating when someone he cares for feels the need to lie to him, it makes him feel like they don't trust him enough

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

he's a quite a light sleeper and wakes up pretty easily. he also looks dead when he sleeps, for example most days he sleeps pretty early bc he's worn out and you come into the bedroom and see him lying down on his back, his chest isn't even moving like it should be, but you'll get into bed with him and his first instinct is to wrap his arms around you and give you a kiss

i think he sleep talks, omg just imagine ushijima whispering about the weirdest things in his dreams. you recorded him once and showed him when he woke up and he got a bit embarrassed and started laughing

here's the hcs for mornings with ushi

this took me so long omg >o< I really hope I portrayed his character well bc he’s such a lovely person

make sure to take care of yourselves :)

reblogs are very much appreciated <3

requests are open

[invisibleraven]

For the date prompts: Peterpatter + 13?

"You excited for the carnival babe?" Luke asks as he ensures they have everything they need for the day, Reggie almost bouncing with anticipation beside him.

"You know it! I want to go through the stupid Tunnel of Love and kiss at the top of the Ferris wheel and have you win me one of those stupid stuffed animals and eat my weight in funnel cake..."

Luke bites off his smile, loving how enthusiastic his boyfriend is by the simple pleasures of a carnival. Maybe because he had been denied such memories when he was young, and Luke is determined that Reggie gets to experience everything he missed out on due to his horrible parents. Even if it takes a lifetime, Luke will spend his making Reggie happy.

They are about to leave, door open and everything when the skies open up, a downpour erupting from the sky, the distant roar of thunder and a clap of lightening streaking across the sky moments later. "Maybe it'll slacken off?" Reggie says, hoping against hope, though the clouds are dark and ominous, and he jumps when the thunder rolls again.

"How about we reschedule the carnival for tomorrow and have a movie day today instead?" Luke suggests. Reggie brightens at the suggestion, shutting out the storm and goes to turn their living room into a blanket fort while Luke is tasked with making snacks.

They've demolished a plate of nachos and are half way through a bowl of popcorn when Luke suggests the next movie; tick tick boom! and Reggie nods. They are both slightly indifferent to RENT, liking what it represents more than the musical itself. Yet they can also sympathize with the story of a young artist lost to the world too soon, much like they almost had been after a nasty encounter with some tainted hot dogs.

The music is energetic, and Reggie is definitely suggesting they do a cover of 30/90 during their next gig when 'Johnny Can't Decide' comes on and Reggie is suddenly silent. Luke watches the song play out, and something uncomfortable niggles under his skin.

"Am I that bad?" he whispers, seeing a lot of himself in Jon, the all consuming need to create, the writer's block, the urge to prove all the doubters wrong.

"No. Not anymore. Not since we started dating," Reggie concedes. "When we were younger, yes. Very similar, but after... I think you gained focus of what's important. More than music."

Even though the food poisoning had been horrible, Luke is almost grateful it happened, because it brought everything into focus. How he didn't want to leave this life without making up with his mom, without telling Reggie how he felt. Those things were more important than becoming some rock legend. Sure, they had gotten there eventually, but now Luke has more balance in his life, and he thinks that's mostly due to the man beside him, always there to drag him away from his notebook or to let him bounce ideas off of as he needed.

"Thanks Reggie," Luke whispered, turning to him and bring him in for a sweet kiss. Reggie's eyes drifted closed, lingering as if he was reactant to let their mouths part, urging Luke to dive in for another kiss, and another, tipping over the popcorn bowl, ignoring the movie in favour of kissing him.

Later, lips swollen, hair mussed, clothes askew, Reggie turns to Luke, eyes glazed over still. "For what?" he asks, breathless but grinning. Luke rolls his eyes and tosses a pillow at him, the two of them erupting into laughter before settling back to find the place they had left in the movie.

[mrsbrookegillespie]

+Luke Skywalker (Luke x Reader)+

(Not My Gif)

Read Before: This is for all my Star Wars fans out there! No bash talking the new Star Wars movies in the comments, or else they'll be removed.

Description: Ever since Y/N and her boyfriend Luke found out that they both I have a love for Star Wars, they've planned to have a marathon. But, when it's finally the day something clouds over Y/N's mind, leaving a worried Luke, and Y/N with a huge burden on her shoulders. Will she tell him the truth?

Warnings: Suggestive dialogue, physical touching ( My face is very red right now lol ), mild angst, fluff.

+Luke Skywalker+

“AH!” I jump, almost spilling my popcorn everywhere. “Luke! You really gotta stop doing that to me, I’m going to have an actual heart attack one day.” I put a hand over my heart as it pounds against my ribcage.

“What do you want me to do? I said I’d be over at eight.” He looks at his small, beat up watch, reading over the time to make sure he got it right.

“Ugh,” I groan. “You could at least poof outside my door and announce yourself, you know to give me some warning?”

“But, that’s no fun.” He pouts moving over towards my bed. “I missed you.” He smiles while plopping down beside me. “You haven’t been at rehearsals lately.” A hint of disappointment and sadness clouds his eyes.

My stomach’s drowning in butterflies as he scans over my face multiple times, trying to read me, no doubt. “I’ve been busy,” I lie. I fidget with my necklace that hangs just above my collarbones. 

“Hmm…” He leans closer, pushing a piece of my hair back behind my ear.

I flinch a little from the contact, which he doesn’t seem fazed by. My mind somehow likes to forget that I can touch the ghosts, unlike Julie. It still remains a mystery why I can even see let alone have the ability to feel them. “You’re going to make me spill popcorn all over my bed,” I say. I push him away, interrupting his movements. He was going to kiss me, are we even there, yet? It would’ve been my first kiss if I let him do it. I can’t have my first kiss be on my bed, can I? 

“What’s going on in that pretty little mind of yours?” he asks

Heat rushes to my cheeks. “Nothing,” I lie again. “Are we going to get this Star Wars marathon started, or what?” I form my lips into a tightline to suppress my grin.

He gazes into my eyes for a moment. “Okay,” he simples. I couldn’t tell what the tone that laces in his voice was. But, it wasn’t good.

I grab the remote, clicking on The Phantom Menace, ironically. I grab another remote, dimming down the light. I guess having rich parents has its perks. My hands go for my popcorn, as I stuff my mouth with it.

I hear a chuckle beside me, making me look over. “What?” I question, with my cheeks puffed out. “What’s so funny?” I interrogate.

“I didn’t know my girlfriend was half chipmunk.” I roll my eyes

I try to swallow the rest of the popcorn down quickly without choking myself. “I would offer you some, but… you know…” I gesture to him.

His eyes nearly made me faint. He looks like a lost puppy in the rain. “It’s okay,” he whispers, waving it off

I avoided any physicality like the plague for the first half of the movie. And I think Luke’s noticing. He reaches for my hand, but I move it away to crack my knuckles for the fifth time. “Y/N.” His tone got even more stern. It startles me to hear Luke’s voice so deep, and brooding, unlike his normal upbeat, and light tone.

I try to ignore it. “What?” I don’t spare him a glance, but I can feel him burning holes into the side of my head.

“What’s going on?”

I scrunch my face in confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I place a handful of popcorn into my mouth, so I didn’t have to attempt to talk anymore.

“You’re stress eating!” He snaps his fingers as he calls me out. “I knew it.” His voice booms through the room, clapping his hands together as a form of self-assurance. 

I turn my head to look at him in alarm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I repeat. “Let’s just watch the movie please, we have a lot to get through tonight.”

He sighs loudly, placing his eyes back onto the television.

The first film ends, as I click Attack of the Clones. “I’m getting cold,” Luke states.

I purse my lips. I know what he’s up to, he’s a ghost, can a ghost even get cold? Probably not, he wants me to cuddle with him. “Here ya go.” I throw a blanket over his face.

“Thanks,” he replies, bitterly, his voice slightly muffled from the blanket. He slowly pulls it away, and places it over his legs. “Are you cold? We can share it.” 

I shake my head. “I’m actually quite warm.” As if on cue a shiver runs down my body.

“Yeah, sure.” I internally wince at his sarcastic way of talking. 

I cross my arms over my chest, watching the movie. I try not to pay any attention to him, and focus, but it’s extremely difficult when I notice his hand getting dangerously close to my thing. Maybe it was partially my doing with my shorts, and tank top, but I just wanted to be comfortable. “What are you doing?” Worry floods over me as he gently places his hand on the upper part of my leg. It sends tingles throughout my body.

“Can I just rest my hand here?” he asks.

“Um…” I bite my lip. “Sure,” I give in.

He gives me a soft smile. “Y/N, if you’re uncomfortable you can tell me. I don’t ever want to make you feel that way.”

Abruptly, guilt washes over me. Seeing him care so much, checking in with me, I swear concern hasn’t left his expression since he got here.I feel as though I haven’t been honest with him over the time we’ve been dating. I guess I’m just scared that he’ll change his mind about me when I tell him I’ve never actually been in a relationship before and I’ve never been touched the way he’s touched me before. And I’m nervous. “You could never make me feel uncomfortable,’ I eventually say. “It’s just--” I hesitate, “--it’s just… you’re my first boyfriend,” I blurt.

His eyes widen. “What?” he stutters. “You’ve-you’ve never had a boyfriend!” He rips his hand away. “I’m your first boyfriend? 

I swallow my fear, nodding. “Yes.” My voice becomes super quiet.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, and I swear I hear his voice break.

“Why are you crying?” I ask, finally seeing the tears build up in his eyes. I pull him into a hug which he immediately leans into.

“If I had known I would’ve done things differently, I would’ve tried harder.” I stroke his hair, my heart shattering.

“No, you’ve literally exceeded my expectations. I wouldn’t change a single thing,” I pause. “And I didn’t tell you because I was scared.”

He frowns from underneath me. “Why?” 

“I thought it would change the way you see me? I don’t know.” 

“Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?” I nod. “Baby, it could never change the way I see you, but more me. I’ve never have had to do this, and if you think you’re scared. I’m a ghost who’s someone’s first boyfriend, that puts a lot of pressure on me.”

I laugh, breathless. “I never thought about it like that,” I admit.

“Come here, you dummy.” He changes our position, so I am basically on top of him. He holds onto me tight, like if he let’s go he’ll never see me again. He soothingly rubs my back. “Did you know… I was named after Luke Skywalker?” he says, slowly, as if he was trying to remember the claim correctly.

I prop myself up on his chest, so I can look at his face. “No, you weren’t,” I say in disbelief.

He nods with a smug grin. “I was… My mom found out she was pregnant with me the day she saw this movie with my dad, and that was that. So, I’m basically Luke Skywalker, you know I probably have the Force.” I laugh loudly.

It fades when I realize how close Luke and I were, to the point where I can count his eyelashes, the freckles sprawled across his cheeks, distinguish every color that’s in those beautiful hazel eyes of his that I can’t seem to not be mesmerized by.

Taking a step of bravery, I closed the gap. He freezes for a moment, but quickly melts under my touch. He takes his time moving his lips against mine, trying to savor this moment in case it goes away one day. “You know it makes sense.” I pull away. “I was always more of a Han Solo girl.”

He gasps. “Take that back right now!” he argues.

I shake my head. “Nope,” she teases, poking his chest.

His eyes stare at her in awe. “I love you” A subtle blush comes across his features when he says it. 

I gape at him, thinking I’m in some amazing dream, where this beautiful person loves me. It’s not everyday when you meet someone who looks at you with such desire, a desire to keep you in their life forever. A guy who would do anything in his will to always be with you. So, I said what every girl wants to say to her boyfriend. “I know.” 

Not My Best, But It’s Okay :)

[bad-luck-trio]

Hello! Could I request Prompt 1 with America x Reader x Russia? The reader and America had a crush on eachother, but neither of them admited it. This leads to the reader thinking America doesn't like them and decides to move on and eventually fall and start dating Russia. America and Reader have an argument in which America finally admits his feelings. You can choose who the reader picks

TOO LITTLE TOO LATE (PART 1) (Hetalia America x Fem!Reader x Russia)

WARNINGS: - Prompt 1: “I never stood a chance, did I?” “That’s the sad part; you did once.”

I will be using their human names: America = Alfred F. Jones Russia = Ivan Braginsky England = Arthur Kirkland Belarus = Natalya Arlovskaya Spain = Antonio Fernandez Carriedo (C/n) = Country’s name = (Y/n) = Your name

Context: Reader and America have had a crush on each other for ages but neither of them have admitted it, and (Y/n) is convinced that he doesn’t like her back, so she goes out one night to drink a lot. She runs into Russia, and they both Drink a lot. They talk about their troubles together, and soon become close. By the time America gathers the balls to confess, she’s already moved on and likes Russia now.

3RD PERSON’S POV:

A young girl with (h/l) (h/c) hair tied up in a neat ponytail gently knocks on her crush- best friend’s door, silently panicking.

‘Today’s the day! The day I’m finally gonna confess! The day I’m going to leave the friendzone!’ She thought excitedly. She stood there, waiting for Alfred to open the door. Next a crash, a boom, and creek was heard behind the door, right before it was opened.

“Hey, Alfred!” (Y/n) greeted him with a smile.

Alfred’s POV:

CRIP CRAP FRIK FRUK (<( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)) FRACKITY DAMNNNNNN I FORGOT (Y/N) WAS COMING OVER TODAYYYYY!! MY ROOM IS MESSY, I’M NOT WEARING A SHIRT, AND I DIDN’T COOK POPCORN!!

Hurriedly, I quickly put some popcorn in the microwave, and ran over to the door.

*CRASH*

*KABOOM*

*CREEEEEEEK*

“Hey, Alfred!” (Y/n) smiled.

“‘Sup dudette!” I smiled, grinning like an idiot.

In a moment, her face turned redder than Toni’s (Antonio’s) tomatoes. Before I could ask what was wrong, I realized…..

CRIP CRAP FRIK FRUK FRACKITY DAMNNNNN I DON’T HAVE A SHIRT!! Then, it was my turn to turn so red that Toni’s (Antonio’s) tomatoes would be put to absolute shame. Before I could turn around though, (Y/n) held my arm.

“I-it’s okay. It’s not the first time I’ve seen you shirtless, you know.” She said.

I sighed in relief and let her in.

“Heheh, sorry for the mess. I kinda forgot that we were gonna binge Avengers today. The popcorn’s still in the microwave, I’ll go get it!” I said, running off.

“It’s okay! Also…. Can I ask you a question?” (Y/n) asked nervously.

“Of course dudette, we are best friends right?” I replied. There was no way I could reveal how I really felt! I don’t wanna ruin our friendship! I’ll confess one day, but not today.

“F-friends?”

“Yeah! What else would we be?”

FIRST PERSON’S POV:

“It’s okay! Also…. Can I ask you a question?” I asked Alfred, heart beating quickly.

“Of course dudette, we are best friends right?” He replied calmly, like it was no big deal.

Friends… That word makes me want to puke.

“F-friends?” I questioned.

“Yeah! What else would we be?” At his reply, my heart sank. So… that was how he felt about me.

“Dudette? Are you alright? You’ve been spacing out!” Alfred said worriedly, snapping his fingers in front of my face.

“Oh, sorry. I was just distracted. Did you say something?” I asked politely.

“Uhhh, you said you had to ask me something?” He said in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone.

“Oh, yeah. I was gonna ask, what Marvel movie are we gonna binge on today?” I lied, putting up a fake smile.

“I was thinking, we should watch Captain America!” Alfred grinned, as he struck a pose holding the popcorn.

Of course he’d choose Captain America.

~TIMESKIP, THE END OF THE DAY~

Tired and exhausted, I waved goodbye to Alfred and left, heading to a bar to drink my sorrows off.

On my way however, I bumped into someone large. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” I apologized.

“(C/n)! It is you, да?” A familiar voice asked. I looked up to see Ivan.

“Oh, Hello Ivan! It’s been a while!” I greeted the tall Russian.

“Привет (Y/n), как дела?” (Hello (Y/n), how are you?) Ivan smiled.

“To be honest, not that good. Wanna go out for a drink like old times, drinking buddy?” I offered with a tired smile.

“Да, That sounds pretty good. I already have some vodka on me!” I laughed at his statement. I mean this is Ivan we’re talking about.

“So friend, why don’t you tell me what has been bothering you?” He asked.

“Love troubles. I just got friendzoned by Alfred.” I sighed.

“I make him pay, да?” Ivan offered, bringing out his “Magic metal pipe of pain!”

I’ve learned not to question how he manages to carry around objects in his coat, and shook my head.

“I just wanna drink. Not get him murdered, Ivan. Besides, it is impossible. We are immortal after all.” I replied.

“But he hurt my friend. That is not good. If anyone else hurts you friend, you tell me and I make them wish they were never born!”

Honestly, it is a mystery to me how he says such dark and scary words with the tone and face of an innocent child.

“I will, you don’t need to worry.” I smiled back.

And that was the beginning of a very nice relationship.

Eventually, Ivan and I started hanging out with each other more. I started sitting next to him during the World Meetings, we would go out and look at sunflowers, and I had found myself my own safe haven.

TO BE CONTINUED….

A/n: I'm gonna make separate endings for them, so it's gonna take a while. I hope this was nice tho! Also, Yin will be working on Alfred's ending, Luna will be working on Russia's ending.

If you take closer look at our writing style, you can notice qualitied detail differences. It is also an option for you to mention in requests which one of us you would like to work on your oneshot preference. Good day!

Authors: Yin and Luna.