ursulawrites

[ursulawrites]

my other half was you. for @dallaswinstons!

[ursulawrites]

I just finished reading Lessons in Chemistry and I am now 650 words into writing an Elizabeth/Calvin fic.

If anyone else here is interested, I’d absolutely write either Calvin or Elizabeth on here too.

Just FYI whilst I attempt to come back from an unplanned hiatus!

[ursulawrites]

Noah + Joanne + Kisses

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✅ New muse page

✅ Updated rules page

✅ New icon

✅ New header

✅ New theme pictures

Next… some actual writing and making a new pinned post 👀 (Oh, and writing 21 sets of verse info & bios)

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I've just finished Heartstopper S3 which has me deep in my feels. I'm going to stalk the tags to see if there's enough people writing it to add Nick and maybe also Tori to my muses, and then have a look at kickstarting the rest of this blog 👀

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HEARTSTOPPER 3x04 "Journey"

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“Fuck Jameson,” Wade commented absentmindedly. He was too busy worrying about the bleeding wound in front of him to go on one of his usual tirades about the news editor with a grudge. He had bigger things to worry about. Though he did blame himself for Spidey getting stabbed and it would be on brand for Wade to get an award for getting one of his favourite people killed. A gold star fuck up, well done Wilson.

Before Wade could even really process the comment about breathing, Peter was reaching for his mask. Wade wanted to tell him to stop, that he shouldn’t trust an ex-mercenary with severe mental health issues and a kill list so long that it could probably fill a phone book. Though that wasn’t exactly true. Because when it came to this, Wade knew he could be trusted. He’d never sell his friend out, even if tortured by the worst villains or offered Taylor Swift tickets (even VIP Eras Tour passes) in exchange for Spider-Man’s identity.

Either way, he wasn’t fast enough to stop him and he suddenly found himself face to face (or mask to face) with one of the most gorgeous men he’d ever seen, even with the ashen look and sweaty sheen that came from being stabbed. Like seriously? Looking that good at a time like this? Life was so unfair. Something akin to a whimper fell from his lips. At least he assumed it came from him, given that it was only the two of them in the alleyway. “You’re not dying.” Wade insisted vehemently, dragging his eyes away from Peter's lovely face and back to the wound. “There’s no way I can let you die and deprive the world of that face,” He said, gesturing a hand in the direction of the unmasked face above him. “Talk about a crime against humanity.” 

“Losers bring a knife to a gun fight, that’s who. Losers and people being used as plot devices,” Wade commented before scoffing when Spidey mentioned his hair. “Trust me, you’re fine. I haven’t been to a barber in much longer than you,” He joked, fully aware that a hair hadn’t grown on his head since his pre-Deadpool days. “I have a safe house a few blocks from here. There should be a first aid kit there so we just need to get you there and I can stitch you up. Any ideas on something to use as a tourniquet?" He asked, looking around for inspiration as to how to stem the bleeding.  

Peter huffed out a laugh, head tilting. "I mean, I hadn't thought about that - Man, in that case, Jameson might actually give you an award. Getting rid of the pesky menace, Spider-Man." He was rambling a little, trying to distract himself from the hurt. The adrenaline had worn off, replaced by the hot pulse of pain, each breath bringing a fresh wave. He'd been stabbed before - He'd been near death before - but something about the oozing gash in his side felt different. Fuck. "I mean, you are pretty annoying - Figured this would be the easiest way out -" Peter quipped but it was clear from his tone that his heart wasn't in the back and forth. He blinked furiously underneath the mask, trying to keep himself from passing out.

"I can't breathe -" His breath caught, hand coming up to pull the mask off. Sure, it wasn't exactly how he'd planned on showing his face, but his need for air was greater than any dramatic reveal. "Who the fuck brings a knife to a gun fight??" The words groaned out of him as he coiled over, grasping at his side. He was silent for a moment, trying to focus through it. "Least if I die now you'll have seen my face." A soft laugh fell from him, eyes looking back to Wade. "I won't be taking any criticism about my hair at this time, I didn't have time to go to the barber."

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Wade always made it his mission to throw himself in harm's way whenever he was patrolling with Spider-Man. He couldn't die, so they could stab him, shoot him, blow him up, do whatever they wanted to him as long as they didn't hurt Spidey. But tonight he'd messed up. He'd spent too long taunting a goon over his haircut ("I mean curtains? Okay Nick Carter, this isn't the 90s") when Spider-Man could have used his help with the multiple guns-for-hire that he was tackling. One of them had brought a knife to a gunfight (which c'mon, what a fuckin' idiot) which he'd managed to slash Webs' side with before Wade kicked the shit out of him. It was a testament to Wade's friendship with the web slinger that the guy was still breathing, tied up ready for the cops to collect. The old Wade would have unalived him instantly.

"Depends on whose headlines. I think ol' Jameson would throw me a party," Wade joked half-heartedly as he bent over, examining the wound and the shredded suit around it. If being ex-special forces gave him any useful skills, it was some seriously advanced first aid skills and the ability to keep calm in a crisis. He hadn't had to use said first aid skills in a while, given his own regenerative healing abilities, but they were still there at the back of his mind amongst the Mariah Carey lyrics and the memorised takeout menu from his favorite Chinese restaurant in Queens. "You're not bleeding out on me, you can't get away from me that easily." Wade commented, looking around for something to stop the bleeding with. "Especially when you know I can't follow you to the afterlife, that's just cheating."

~ @ursulawrites || “let me take a look at your injury.” (wade/peter) ~

"'S fine -" Peter attempted to wave him away, glad of the mask to hide the fact that his face was screwed up with pain. He looked down at his torso. There was a gash to his side that was steadily pumping out blood, causing Peter to feel light-headed. Hand grasped at Wade to steady himself, taking a few short breaths to try and breathe through the pain. It'd been something he'd read online. Mind over matter. Which, now that he'd actually tried it, seemed like a load of bullshit. "Phew - This is gonna be awkward as hell for you if I die here now." He tried to joke, giving a weak nudge to his arm. "Deadpool kills Spider-Man - I can already see the headlines."

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“ you are so fucking powerful . ”

Charles smirked at Erik’s comment. He didn’t need his telepathy powers to sense his admiration, he could see it in his eyes. It had been a few weeks of working together to find mutants for their project, their team, their chance at taking down Shaw. In that time, he found he liked the feeling of Erik’s attention being focused on him. The compliment sent a wave of warm feelings through him. His cheeks were already hot, the drinks they’d shared between them over the course of the evening had tinted them a rosy red.

“You are too, darling,” Charles replied, the pet name slipping out of his mouth before he could do a thing to stop it. Whilst things had so far remained platonic, it didn’t mean that Charles wanted it to stay that way. It was taking all of his self-restraint to stop himself from dipping into Erik’s mind to find out the other man’s thoughts on the topic. Damn his moral code. “Imagine, together we could give a whole new meaning to the term ‘power couple’,” He joked. He was well into tipsy so he had no hesitation or inhibitions about flirting so shamelessly. Charles might not be able to justify reading Erik’s thoughts, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use his words. If there was even the slightest chance that it would end up with Erik in his bed tonight, he was going to take it.

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“the truth is, i do love you, more than i should. and with you, the lines between platonic and romantic are blurred and i’m sort of fucked up like that, i’m kind of a tangled mess of affection for you that can’t sort itself out. i don’t know platonic from romantic when i’m near you, and i do love you. i just don’t know how.”

—

the truth always hurts, but i never meant to tell you

  (via

idiotarps

)

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All I wanted to do today was just…be with you.

ONLY MURDERS IN THE BUILDING, 1x06 - “To Protect and Serve”

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“I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

“You promise?” Sugar smiled softly, snuggling down under the comforter into her silk Egyptian sheets. 

It had been a while since her and Finn had gotten to spend any sort of real time together. The filming schedule for the new season had been brutal, keeping the two of them apart for longer than she would have liked. Even if they both had the same evening off, it always seemed like one of them would have an early call time the next morning.

So instead of lazy mornings in bed, it was one of them creeping around at 3am, trying not to wake the other as they set off for work. That was when they weren’t both needed, shuffling onto set together like a pair of sleep deprived zombies.

But the prospect of falling asleep without setting an alarm, and Finn would still be there too? Amazing. Sign her up for more.

"We should do something when we wrap. Go away somewhere, maybe the Caribbean, or Mexico. Somewhere sunny..." She suggested, cuddling into Finn's side. "Anywhere just the two of us."

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“Can you hear me?”

Luke could hear the concern in Alex’s voice through the locked bathroom door from where he was currently slumped on the floor next to the toilet, regretting his life choices. He should have stopped three drinks ago, maybe even four. He definitely should have said no to that last shot.

His stomach was churning, extreme nausea threatening him every time he even thought about moving. Standing up? A no go. He didn’t think he could even sit up without being sick. Even the idea of opening his mouth to respond to Alex made him queasy. 

Luke tried to open his eyes first (baby steps) but that just seemed to make the world spin faster. If he survived this, he was going to kill Bobby for suggesting those shots. 

“Mhnanmm fisdne,” Luke summoned the energy to shout to Alex. It was supposed to be “I’m fine,” but it came out a lot more slurred than he intended. 

He knew Alex would be continuing to worry about him so Luke dug down deep before hauling himself onto his knees and crawling over to unlock the door. As soon as the lock was flipped, he lunged back to his safe place lying next to the toilet.

“‘Lexxxx I don’t feel good,” Luke whined as the door opened. He had mostly opened the door to ease Alex’s worry but it had also been a selfish move on his part. This way, Alex would come and hold his hair back and maybe even rub his back. He would take care of him, bring him water and make sure nothing bad happened to him. Alex felt like comfort, and safety, and home.

[ursulawrites]

Tyler Posey and Sydney Sweeney manip

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so what if I sucked his dick. his knuckles were split and bloody from defending my safety and my honour what else was I supposed to do

[ursulawrites]

Sorry I've been MIA, I'm hoping to have some time tomorrow to be on here and write replies so bear with me, I'll be back!