#with confettis falling over their heads as the bells rang and they were drinking an alcohol called “Bride”!

[tetitous]

The thing I would currently go "the wicked witch of the east, bro!" for is "Vash and Wolfwood got metaphorically married, bro!"

[the-little-prophet]

The Stars Are Falling || Chicken and the Hawk

@traverse-the-stars

Tonight, Charlie had what he decided to refer to as Schrödinger's Date, aka, a scenario in which Charlie Little was simultaneously on a date and not on a date with Jim Hawkins. 

The only way to collapse this paradox would be to open the figurative box and ask, Hey Jim, is this a date?, but doing so might also cause the spontaneous implosion of Charlie’s personal reality. He didn’t really want to know the answer for real, in other words, and so he was okay being the Cat in the Box who may or may not be Dead. Honestly, being a sometimes-dead-sometimes-alive cat was very familiar to him-- much more familiar than being on a date.

So! Since the Southern Delta Aquariids were starting their peak tonight, Schrödinger's Date would start promptly at 9pm, and would take place at Charlie’s house, due to Charlie’s beautiful Levenhuk Strike 90 Plus Refractor AZ Mount Telescope. They planned to watch some Star Trek first, till around midnight which the shower would hopefully get going. Charlie made his infamous Star Trek Mix (dried cranberries=red shirts, dried blueberries=blue shirts, peanuts=yellow shirts, chocolate and yogurt-covered raisins=incoming meteors, spaceship-shaped pretzels) along with mini-confetti cupcakes and a plethora of drink options, and he was primed half-way down the stairs when the bell rang.

“I’ll get it!” he exclaimed, his voice pitched up. His father did not react from where he sat in his recliner chair. Charlie had told him he was going to have a friend over at dinner, and his father had simply said that was nice, and not to make too much noise. Still, Charlie tried at all costs to avoid having his world with his father and the world with his friends collide. 

He pounded down those few steps and flung open the door, ignoring the urge to look over his shoulder to make sure his dad was still glued to the living room. “Hi,” he greeted Jim. His stomach clenched a little, head already a little floaty, but that was because he was running on a less-than-ideal 4 hours of sleep. He reminded himself though: this was not a Date (it might also be a date). “Um, you can just, we can head up stairs, my dad’s in the middle of something--” Charlie said, ushering him to the staircase. 

As Jim headed up the stairs, Charlie took this time to surreptiously take out his phone and send a quick text to Lana: The Hawk Has Landed. 

Yup, she’d be getting live updates all night. Just, uh... in case. 

[dontmindthefangirling]

Save Me {p.p.}

Summary: Peter Parker has been your best friend for as long as you can remember, so you were able to tell when he started acting very distant from you; not answering your texts, blowing off plans, not inviting you to hang outs with Ned. You planned to confront him - but then something horrible happened. 

Warnings: Kidnapping, swears, angst??

gif by hollands-gf

-

You walked into school with MJ, your backpack slung over your shoulder. Homecoming posters were plastered on every wall, but every time you looked at one you wanted to tear it down. 

Ever since Peter started acting like he didn’t want anything to do with you, you hadn’t been excited about anything. He was your best friend, and you were hoping that maybe he would ask you to be his date to homecoming. Now you doubted he would even ask if you wanted to sit with him at lunch.

“Hey, you okay?” MJ asked. You shook yourself out of your trance and faked a smile. 

“Fine.”

-

Walking into chemistry was the worst part of your morning. Peter sat three rows back, but he was always the first person your eyes went to. He had his head down and he was scribbling something in his notebook. His lab goggles were perched on the top of his head, and his fawn hair was falling in his eyes. You noticed he let it grow longer than usual. 

You took your seat next to him. Since lab partners were assigned at the beginning of the year, you weren’t allowed to switch. At the beginning of the year, you were best friends. Now you weren’t so sure.

Peter looked up for a mere second when you sat down, but instantly went back to his scribbling. You had no idea what he was writing or drawing or whatever it was, but you had to force your curious self not to look.

“Hey,” you grumbled. You wanted something, some sort of reaction out of him. 

“Hi,” he responded without looking up from his notebook.

“What are you doing?” you asked. 

“Writing.”

You rolled your eyes. The bell rang and your teacher entered the room and began lecturing. You tried your hardest to focus, but Peter’s scribbling continued well into class. You had no idea how he could not pay attention at all, and then get called on and know the answer.

It made you beyond annoyed.

The ringing of the bell at the end of class lifted every amount of tension off your shoulders. You grabbed your bag, without saying a word to Peter and scurried out of class.

He didn’t say a word. 

-

Peter hadn’t spoken to you, not even a text, since you forced a “Hi” out of him in chemistry on Monday. It was now Wednesday, and you stopped going to the cafeteria to eat lunch. It hurt too much to see him and not talk to him. 

You didn’t know what you could have possibly done to upset him so badly. You tried talking to Ned about it, to see if he knew why Peter didn’t want to be your friend anymore, but Ned didn’t an answer either. 

Peter had always been your person. He was always there whenever you needed him, and you were always there whenever he needed you. You two were inseparable. You spent your afternoons at his apartment and he’d stop by yours to walk with you to school. 

The walks to school stopped about a month ago. 

Texts became less frequent, and soon he stopped saying hi to you at your locker after first period, when you had overlapping classes.

You shut your locker, more forcibly than you had intended, and looked out at the hallway of students. You spotted Peter with his head down, walking quickly past you. You stared at his back as he walked further away. 

You let out a sigh and walked in the opposite direction to your class.

-

Homecoming was tomorrow and you still didn’t have an outfit. You planned on going shopping with MJ after school to find something to wear, but you didn’t particularly care about what you wore anymore. You didn’t even want to go, and you probably wouldn’t be going if MJ hadn’t convinced you to try.

Besides, Peter was going with Liz. Apparently he had asked her earlier this week.

It made you bitter to think about. 

Peter was shoving you out of his life, for what? Liz?

You were sitting with MJ at lunch, on the opposite side of the cafeteria from where Ned and Peter normally sat. MJ coerced you out of the library and to eat with the rest of civilization, much to your protesting.

“(Y/N), you have to eat,” MJ said, pointing to your untouched sandwich.

“I’m not hungry,” you replied. 

MJ gave you the glare the one that says, “Eat or I’ll kick your ass.”

You took a nibble of the side of your sandwich and MJ rolled her eyes.

“Why don’t you just go and talk to him?” MJ asked, her tone softer than before. You looked up from your unappetizing sandwich and spotted the back of Peter’s tousled hair. 

“He doesn’t want to talk to me,” you mumbled. 

MJ sighed and looked at you with a slight frown. She couldn’t even say anything to comfort you because she knew you were right.

-

It was the end of the school day on Friday and everyone was buzzing with excitement for Homecoming that night. You had picked out an outfit with MJ and you were somewhat excited to wear it. MJ was going to come over to your apartment before the dance and help you get ready, and then you were going to go together. 

You were gathering your things at your locker, putting things in your backpack when you spotted Peter talking to Liz across the hall. He said something to her with a smile and then waved goodbye to her. He started walking away, when an anger was lit inside you.

How could he just dump you aside? 

You slammed your locker shut and followed him outside of the school. 

“Parker!” you spat.

Peter froze at the bottom of the steps. You marched down the steps behind him and grabbed the sleeve of his sweatshirt, pulling him away from the crowds.

“(Y/N)-”

“Shut up.”

Once you were farther away from the rest of the student body leaving the school for the day, you let go of Peter’s sleeve and glared at him. He stared at the grass, as if it would make you disappear. You wanted him to say something first, to apologize for how he had been treating you, to say that he missed you too, to say something- anything.

He stood there in silence.

“What the hell is your problem?” you finally exclaimed, exasperated by his silence. He remained quiet, shifting the weight on his feet. 

“We were best friends, Peter. For God’s sake, you’ve ignored me for the last month, as if I suddenly just wasn’t important to you anymore! Do you know how badly that hurt? How alone I’ve felt? I miss you, Peter. And it breaks my fucking heart to think that you don’t miss me-”

“Stop.”

“Excuse me?” 

“I said stop.” Peter looked up, finally meeting your gaze. His gaze was cold, and it made your stomach twist. 

“We can’t be friends anymore, (Y/N).”

You blinked, staring at him. You should have expected coldness from him. It was all you got from him anyways.

“Why?” you said bitterly, through gritted teeth. Tears stung the back of your eyes, threatening to spill over. 

Peter looked taken aback, like he didn’t expect you to ask why he was dumping you as a friend. You held up your hand. 

“Actually, I don’t want to hear your lame excuse. Don’t ever talk to me again, Parker,” you basically spit. Peter looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words. It didn’t matter anyways, you were beyond hurt, and you walked away from your best friend.

-

“(Y/N), we can still have fun!” MJ pleaded. “I hate these stupid dances, but even I want to go.”

“See, you just said they’re stupid,” you said.

“I know, but we should still go,” MJ said.

“Peter will be there.”

“So? Don’t talk to him.”

You huffed. You were dressed and ready for the dance, but everything in you wanted to stay him and curl up in bed.

“What do I always say?” MJ asked. 

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t miss out on your youth cause when you’re old you’ll regret it.”

MJ nodded. “That’s right. So we’re going.”

She nudged you with her elbow, and you smiled weakly. 

“Fine.”

-

The music was loud from outside of the gymnasium. You could hear every beat of the songs playing inside, and you felt your stomach twist in knots. You looked down and smoothed out your outfit before walking with MJ. Once inside, you took in all of the decorations; the balloons, the streamers, the pieces of confetti that seemed to rain down from the ceiling. 

“(Y/N)! MJ!” Ned called. You and MJ spotted him standing near a drink table. He was waving happily. 

“Hey Ned,” MJ greeted. You smiled softly at him. If Ned was here, that means Peter wouldn’t be far behind. 

As if right on schedule, two people appeared at your side.

“Hey guys!” Liz said cheerfully. She looked beautiful in her dress and heels, and her makeup looked as if it were done professionally. Peter stood next to her, looking extremely handsome in his suit and tie, but he refused to even look at you. You didn’t look at him for longer than a second. You wondered if he would take your instructions and never speak to you again. The truth was, you did want him to speak to you, but you were so angry that he would just act like you weren’t his best friend for years.

“Peter, Liz,” MJ greeted. “Nice to see you both.”

“(Y/N), I love your hair!” Liz exclaimed. “Did you get it done?”

“Thanks,” you responded, almost coldly. “MJ did it.”

You could feel Peter’s eyes on you and it was too much for you to handle. He was here, standing next to Liz, no longer your best friend, and you knew that you had a flame for him all this time, that you always suppressed to keep your friendship alive. Look where that got you.

“Excuse me,” you said softly. You stepped away from the group and walked towards the doors. You needed some fresh air. 

The door shut behind you, the music still blasting inside. You took a long, shaky breath. 

“(Y/N),” a soft voice said behind you. Peter appeared at your side, startling you.

“What do you want?” you hissed. 

“I know you’re mad at me, but you don’t have to be rude to Liz, too,” Peter said. 

You stared at him in shock. He couldn’t be serious, could he? 

“You’re joking.”

Peter shook his head. “She hasn’t done anything-”

“Oh my god, you’re serious,” you laughed bitterly. “Stop talking to me, Peter.”

You started walking down the steps, your back to him. You wished he would say something to make you stop, but he didn’t. You heard the door shut, signaling that he went back inside, and that’s when the tears started to flow. 

Too bad you didn’t see the guy approaching you from behind.

-

Peter’s heart had never felt so heavy. He knew he had to make you hate him. It was the only way you would be safe. If any of his enemies found out that he was in love with-

He couldn’t even think the rest of that sentence. 

He tried to comfort his conscience with the idea that he was protecting you by acting this way, but he didn’t like the type of person he was becoming. The truth was - he missed you like crazy. He hated saying those words to your face that you could no longer be friends.

He took a shaky breath and smiled at Liz, trying to act like he was at least enjoying the night. He had to fake it.

“Help!” someone screamed suddenly. “Someone help!” 

The music stopped almost instantly as MJ came barreling through the doors with tears streaming down her face. “Call 9-1-1!”

Peter rushed over. “MJ, what happened?”

“It’s (Y/N)! I went out to check on her, and-and this man- he knocked her unconscious and-”

MJ didn’t finish her sentence by the time Peter was already running out the door, throwing off his tie. 

-

part 2

[ficsandstrangerthings]

Hold on Loosely

  Pairings: Steve Harrington x OC (Slow burn) 

  Warnings: Swearing, underage drinking, smoking. 

Word count: 1.8 K

A/N: So wow, can’t believe I posted this. I haven’t done much writing, let alone posted any writing in years. But I binged stranger things and can safely say Steve Harrington has stolen my heart, ugh! This is the first part in a multi chapter fic I have been writing for fun. If there is enough interest I will continue to update as I write. Hopefully I’m not too rusty and bear with me as I work out the kinks. Also I noticed most fics on here are in reader format. I have never written that way, and have always stuck with original characters. However, if there is serious interest I would be willing to give it a try.

Part 2

“Oh Fuck, I think I’m dying,” eye’s clenching tighter she hissed out a sharp, pained breath. With every slow intake of air a fresh wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm her.  “Scarlett, are you up yet? You’re going to be late, Scarlett!” with every pound of her step mother’s fist against the door Scarlett’s head recoiled in agony.  “Yes Trish, I’m up!” she yelled back, voice horse. God she was thirsty, where was her water? “Well hurry up! I want to talk to you before you go to school,” the teen in response groaned, but none the less grunted back an affirmative. After a moment she heard the wicked witch of the Midwest retreat back downstairs.  Taking a deep breath she ripped off the band-aid and sat straight up. The world spun, and with an ‘oh shit’ she lunged for the door. Stumbling across the hallway and into the bathroom she kicked the door shut behind her, collapsing before the porcelain throne.  The last of the previous nights celebrations emptied from her stomach she rocked back, dragging a handful of toilet paper across her mouth before flushing it and the foul contents.  “Fucking tequila” she hissed, getting to her feet with the help of the counter. Flicking the shower on she tugged off last nights crumpled outfit from her body, letting it fall to the floor. As steam began to fill the room she stepped under the water. A low moan escaped her lips body relaxing at the feel of the hot droplets gently massaging her pounding skull.  She could have stayed there all day if not for a pounding on the door, sending a sharp bolt of pain through her brain.  “Scarlett let’s go!” “I’m coming!” she barked back, slamming the water off “Fuck”. She made quick work of getting dried off and dressed, throwing on a pair of levi’s and a  plain blouse. Grabbing a can of hair spray off her dresser she plopped in front of her armoire. Running a brush through the damp hair she gave a couple generous puffs from the aerosol can, before dragging her fingers through to style it. With a light dusting of makeup she was heading for the bedroom door, slinging her back pack over her shoulder, and grabbing the keys off her dresser. Pausing in the door way she doubled back, snatching her ray bans off the dresser as well and depositing them over her eyes. The darkness they provided eased the dull ache of her head. At least the world had stopped spinning every time she turned her head.  Hopping off the last stair she bee-lined for the front door, ignoring the protests of her dehydrated body. She put on the brakes, mood plummeting as her step mom stepped into the hallway, arms crossed and blocking her escape route.  “Trish can’t we do this later, like you said I’m already late.” Scarlett grumbled, shifting her bag on her shoulder.  “Where were you last night?” The woman asked, voice tight.  “I was at a friends, we were studying and I lost track of time. It’s not a big deal, don’t you think your being a bit over dramatic?” As soon as the words were out she knew she had made a mistake, but it was too late now and she was going to stick to her guns.   “Over dramatic? You want to see over dramatic? Fine, because of your little stunt you have a new curfew. You are to be home by 5 P.M. sharp until further notice.”  “What? I told you, I was studying! Are you seriously going to punish me for broadening my educational horizons?” She argued and Trish raised a tired hand to pinch at the bridge of her nose, stress headache forming.  “Oh cut the shit Scarlett, we both know you weren’t studying last night. You reek of hangover!” Before the teen could retort a third voice joined the fray.  “Mommy said a bad word!” The two warring women turned to the right, where Sophie, Trish’s 3 year old and Scarlett’s Half-sister stood, naked.  “Nice, real great parenting. I’m late for school,” as she passed the wide eyed toddler Scarlett reached down, tousling the small child’s curly locks. “See you later kiddo.”  “Scarlett, this conversation isn’t over. When your father get’s home we-” The slam of the door cut off the end of her Step moms sentence. With quick strides she unlocked her car throwing her bag in the passenger seat. The front door swung open, an irate Trish with still naked Sophie in her arms.  “5 O’Clock Scarlett, I mean it!” She warned, and with a scoffed ‘whatever’ the teenager fell into the drivers seat. Slamming the door shut she peeled out of the driveway and headed towards school. Looking down at the clock as she pulled into the parking lot of Hawkins High Scarlett realized that first period was well underway already. Not letting it bother her she tugged on her jacket and grabbed her bag, before she headed towards the gym. Circling the building she pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders, the crisp fall air biting into her once sun kissed skin.  “There she is! I told you she wasn’t skipping just because of a little hangover.” Jessica, the closest thing she had to a best friend since coming to this hell hole, waved her over the join the small group that sat huddled smoking against the back side of the gym. Plastering a smile on her face, Scarlett took an offered cigarette, getting a light from one of the guys.  “Hangover schmangover,” she joked, taking a long drag. The familiar feel of nicotine and menthol filling her lungs instantly relaxing the last of this mornings tension.  “So Tina, what’s the deal with this party of yours?” She asked, turning to the brunette, who lit up at the mention of her yearly booze fest.  Reaching into her bag the giddy teen grabbed a stack of orange flyers, handing them to Scarlett. Tired green eyes read over the obnoxiously colored paper, slim brow raising in amusement.  “Come get sheet faced?Classy,” she teased.  “Tina’s party is like the biggest event of the year,” Jessica gushed, taking a stack of flyers from said girl.  “How big are we talking?” Scarlett asked with a raised brow as yet another stack of flyers were handed out. Before Tina could reply the bell range signaling the end of first period. Dropping the last of her cigarette to the floor she stamped the glowing embers out. Holding the flyers to her chest she bid farewell to the quickly dispersing group, heading off towards second period, Jesssica in tow.  “So, are you going with anyone?” Her friend asked, hopeful for new gossip.  Scarlett rolled her eyes at the other girls eagerness to know.  “Probably not, I have never been one for dates to a party. I just want to have a good time and you can’t do that hanging off someone’s arm, y’know?” She explained, and Jessica’s mouth made an ‘O’ shape in understanding.  As they rounded the corner a solid wall of person collided with Scarlett, sending her toppling to the floor,  sunglasses and orange flyers scattering about the hall like confetti.  “Watch where your going dick head!” She spat, cheeks flared in a mix of anger and embarrassment. Already she could hear the low murmur and giggles of her peers who had seen her folly.  “Shit, I”m sorry.” A hand was offered out to her, and she followed it up to see just who her assailant had been. Warm brown eyes looked down on her with concern, lips tugged between a mixture of a grimace and a smile. She took the offered hand, swiping her ray bans off the floor with her free hand, before letting him pull her to her feet.  “Totally my bad, are you O.K.?” he asked, and Scarlett did a quick once over of herself, adjusting her outfit. While her back side protested painfully  and her pride was a bit bruised she was none the worse for wear.  “Yeah, I’m fine. That’s one way to hand out fliers.” She mused, a small smile tugging on her lips. Following her gaze he barked a laugh, nodding in agreement. The scattered fliers were quickly being scooped up by the waves of students filling the hallways as they made their way to their next class.  “I’m Scarlett, by the way. Sorry about the dick head comment,” She offered her hand with a shy smile and the boy took it, shaking it gently.  “Steve, and don’t worry about it. Rumor has it, I can in fact be quiet the dick head.” He offered, giving her a full blown grin and a wink. His eyes drifted past her, and his face lit up as he let go of her hand.  “Well it was nice to meet you Scarlett, sorry again about the whole assault thing. See you around?”  “Oh, yeah. Totally,” She responded, watching as Steve threw a wave over his shoulder, and flicked his sunglasses on, all while bee-lining for a petite brunette.  “Forget it, Herrington is totally off the market, and for what it’s worth he’s turned into quiet the pussy since he started dating that Wheeler girl.” Jessica drawled, stepping up to her friend and crossing her arms.  Scarlett gave a half-hearted noise in response, watching as the handsome boy scooped the girl up, swinging her around. She pursed her lips, turning away from the public display of affection.  “Seriously though, King Steve is old news.” Jessica continued on, and Scarlett couldn’t help the snort that escaped.  “King Steve?” She asked, unable to hide the humor in her voice. Small towns were such a trip. “Yeah, he used to rule this school,” the peppy girl continued, not picking up on the notes of mocking in Scarlett’s voice. “That is until he started dating that Wheeler girl. Now he’s all...Domestic.” She finished with a curled lip and Scarlett let out a peal of laughter.  “Oh no anything but that,” she teased and Jessica shoved her playfully.  “I’m serious. Forget about Harrington. If I were you I’d be setting my sights a little higher. Like that Hargrove kid for example.” she gushed, fanning herself slightly. “I mean, have you seen the ass on that boy?”  Part 2