#8 hours of cutting that stuff two days running sucked man

[maggiemacabre]

SiIvaGunner SmashUp! Behind the scenes and post-mortem

Hello folks and welcome to my new Tumblr blog. I don't know how much I'm going to actually use this thing in the future but I figure if I need it, it's here. As you can probably tell by the title, today's subject will be none other than my most recent "work", the SiIvaGunner SmashUp!

The idea of a SiIvaGunner take on the concept of "Royal Rumble but full of stupid contestants" was in my head for a while, but the motivation to do it wasn't in place until I found Dead Meat's Horror Royal Rumble in August or September of 2023. The Jerma Rumbles and Vinewrestle were definitely also influences on the idea, but the Horror Royal Rumble was the impetus, and played a part in influencing some creative choices featured in the SmashUp (more on that later).

After running the idea by the team and the rest of backroom, I picked up WWE 2K23 (which fortuitously was on sale that weekend) and got to work. Going in, I had next to no idea of the ins and outs of pro wrestling, which meant that I had to do a lot of research into things like the wrestlers themselves, moves, terminology, different match types, general historical stuff, how shows are actually presented, etc. This put me in a very, very deep rabbit hole which I have still not crawled out of. I even went to two house shows!

Making the wrestlers was the first step and by far took the longest amount of time out of anything, since this was the first show of its kind on the channel and required the creation of 34 unique wrestlers. Some of them were easier than others (lookin' at you AMUNO), but others such as Ninomae Ina'nis took days to complete due to the amount of detail they required. This also isn't including wrestlers who were made that got cut; some of these exclusions include Bottom G, who was left out because Andrew Tate sucks, Elly from Touhou Project, who was replaced by Sumireko, and Wood Man, who was left out for lore reasons and replaced with 8-Bit Beast in a somewhat 11th hour decision. Maybe next year?

The decision to make Hot Cross Buns and Raft Ride into women also spawned from this period. Hot Cross Buns was made first and was originally meant to show up in the Grand Rumble, but after some time I ended up deciding to move her to her own match, which became a Women's World Champion match because lol. I had to use mods to make the men and women able to fight each other, so theoretically Raft Ride could have been a man, but women are awesome.

Being an egotistical maniac, I also included some references to things I'd worked on in the past. Totino's Stadium, the arena where the match takes place, was first mentioned in the FUMO JAM ad from the DJ Professor K Day stream, and Nu Grandiose City is the city where Woodyana is from in Woodyana Stones: Raider Made of Lost Bark. Also I guess this is why Elvira was included? LOL. Fun fact: The footage of "Totino's Stadium" is actually of Gazprom Arena in Russia.

Since I was involved with the channel's MAGFest panel in 2024, I was able to announce the show months in advance, although I'm not sure how many people actually paid attention at the time. Getting a logo ready between finishing CCC and MAG was a bit tight, but thankfully it was able to be done on time, and on top of that I was able to make the big card poster thing on my own. I actually designed it to be printed, and I proposed making it a sold item, although that idea was rejected. I also came up with the date during this period, choosing the day right before the WWE Hall of Fame show, and while things got a bit close to the wire, it was luckily able to make the date and time without a hitch in the end.

After all the wrestlers were made, it was time to record and edit. I was a bit worried about my laptop overheating while doing so, but I was able to get good quality 60 FPS 1080p footage recorded without any hitches other than some human error on my end. While the controversial ending of the Grand Rumble wasn't what I had in mind, I ended up leaving it as-is for time reasons and also because it felt like a funny troll ending. Which it was! Editing was not quite as smooth since I had to go through all the footage and edit it together into a cohesive product. WWE games don't allow you to cut to entrances during a Royal Rumble, which meant that I had to record and edit those in myself. The method I ended up using resembled the one from the Dead Meat rumble mentioned earlier with cuts to the audience as the buzzer rings, although I'd like to believe I did a better job than they did with their 2024 entrances where they awkwardly cut around shots of the ring. This is also where the fun facts come from, as they are actually covering up the nameplates that show up as an alternative to cutting to the entrances.

After editing was done I got some other team members to do commentary. Thankfully I was able to get someone with wrestling knowledge, which definitely added a dimension of realism and legitimacy to the project. I don't know if I can say who the announcers are because of leaks, but if you haven't figured it out, Randall Shields is a Smash Bros. reference. Also it was the first contribution to SiIvaGunner that had "Randall" made in about half a decade. What a return!

The premiere of the project was electric. Seeing over 1.3K people tune in and get hype over something I made was incredible and made my week, if not month. I did feel a little bad about the reaction when Dream came in (💀), but other than that it was awesome. And don't worry, he won't return.

In the end, I had a lot of fun with the project and it was awesome seeing everything pay off. I want to thank everyone who helped, including the artists who designed the logos and the people who did commentary. It couldn't have come together without help and assistance from everyone, and I hope that this becomes the first in a series of similar videos.

#siivagunner #siivagunner smashup #wrestling #behind the scenes #Youtube

[popculturebuffet]

Pirate Week: Jack of All Trades Floundering Father and Shark Bait Reviews: Bizzaro Blackbeard (Comissoned by Weirdkev27)

Ahoy me hearties and welcome back to Pirate.. two consecutive days. Today we look at one of the most infamous scourges to ever sail the seven seas, Blackbeard!

No not that one.

Sadly not him either. I gotta get back to that series sometime. Maybe next month. No instead of talking about the good blackbeards we're talking about the version from Jack of All Trades.

Before we can get into this disapointment, let's talk about the show itself.

Jack of All Trades was syndicated show in 2000, lasting for two seasons (one 16 episodes the other 8) and part of the back2back action hour with Cleopatra 2525, about an exotic dancer who gets put in cryo sleep and winds up leading a revolution against robots.

Like Cleopatra 2525, Jack of All Trades likely would've been lost ot the sands of time were it not for one man, it's star, your surrogate uncle and mine, the man the myth the chin BRUCE MOTHERFUCKING CAMPBELL. Kev seems determined to one day have me review everything bruce has been in.. which will probably include mchale's navy by the end

For now though this is the good stuff, as jack was also executive produced by Bruce's ride or die best buddies Robert Tapert and Sam Rami.

Jack follows Jack Styles, america revolutionary war hero and either ash williams great great great great great grandpa.. or possibly a time lost Ash Williams who became his own grandpa Phillip J Fry style. The world will never know.. until Dynamite FINALLY does a crossover for it. Come on guys. It's fish in a barrel. Kev even pitched the crossover to me: Ash goes back in time and has to team up with Jack to stop Napoleon from getting his hands on the necronomicon.

Anyways back to the premise: Jack is tapped by president jefferson to go to the french ruled island of Pualu-Pualu in the east indies and stop the various plots of the french. His contact, partner and object of romantic tension is british scientest Emilia Rothschild, played by Angela Dotchin. Jack masquerades as Emilia's houseboy, then goes into actoin as the Darring Dragoon. Yes folks this is also basically a superhero show. The two frequently foil the local Govenor Croque, ocasionally napoleon himself.. and hilariously enough often also scheme to keep Croque in power as his incompetence makes their jobs easier than if Napoleon sent people with actual talent. It's both a great setup and a purposfully thin one: within this the duo can do just about any nonsense the writers want. This includes, just from wikipedia episode blurbs: Jack having to beat Napoleon in poker to keep the louisana purchase, help croque fuck his wife better, get cathrine the great her horse back so she dosen't blow up the island, and get amnesia via a pig. The show is really just an excuse for slapstick nonsense, wordplay, our two leads to banter, and for every man on the island to hit on amelia to remind you this show was made in 2000 and everybody was super extra triple horned up those days. So how did my first round of getting to know jack pan out? Why does this blackbeard suck so much? How does leonardo divinci factor into all of this? Join me under the cut to find out.

The Floundering Father: This episode SHOULD have been an easy slam dunk. I mean look at the image I chose. Really look at it. It has Bruce Campbell in an old timey sleeping outfit. Bruce Campbell, already in his pajamas. That visual gag alone should've won this 29 emmys.

But.. the rest of the episode simply dosen't live up to that glorious image you see. It's main problem is it's running gag for the episode: Jack and Emilia bicker about which is better, America or England. Which is laughable today as while I love my country, we've got a dumptruck load of problems.. and so does the uk. It dosen't work character wise because while I get this show is over the top and what not, I do... it dosen't paint the best picture of emilia that she's overdefnding a country that till very recently opressed Jack's country. I get it's her homeland and the man later says he wishes he could put her boobs on a teddy bear

But it's still pretty tone deaf to tell your partner "Golly the people who opressed yours you had to fight to get away from sure are great". I'd be able to overlook it.. if it was funny. Instead it's just every two minutes or so "AMERICA GREAT" "NO BRITAN" "AMERICA" "BRITANNNN" "AMERICAAAAAAA FUCK YEAH " "BRITAN FUCK YEAH " "mericamericaMERICACAAAAA" "BRITANBRITANJOLLYGOODPIPIPBRITAN"

It drags down the episode every. fucking time. And this being the first jack of all trades I saw had me worried their like this EVERY TIME. Thankfully the next ep, which we'll get to shortly, settled more into the two just bantering and nicely complimenting each other as a team: emilia is the brains and creates vehicles and inventions and such to help them, while jack is the more wordly brawn, able to use his fists and spycraft while loudly complaning and making puns and what not. They have way more chemistry there then here where it just gives me a migraine.

That said it's not ALL their fault the episodes a bit of a slog. Mostly but still Blackbeard dosen't help. Blackbeard is played by Hori Aphene here and credit to the show for casting a POC actor. I didn't even know historical blackbeard wasn't white till our flag means death. The character himself is just .. mostly shouting and being gross.

God bless HOri he's trying really hard, it's the writing that lets him down. I will give this version points for breathing fire

but all the shouting in the world can't make this character funny, threatning or remotely intresting and it only gets worse next episode.

The combo of the lackluster guest star and bickering just makes this one a chore to get through but there are SOME bright spots of light. Croque and his minon, Brogard, pull a clever plan, having Brogard take Benjamin's franklin's place as hostage.

The main saving grace of this episode though is Benjy himself: for starters he's kindapped for the most gloriously stupid reason imaginable: Napoleon wants to force him to build a super weapon to destroy the white house. That itself would be good.. but what takes it over the top and really told me what this show true form is.... the weapon is a GIANT KITE. Yes they took the one thing any person knows about ben franklin and made it into a doomsday device. I fucking love everything about this. This alone got my interest back.

Ben Himself is just a lot of fun. While some of the jokes are just him eating a lot aka

Outside of that he's great, and his little mentorship with elizabeth, both being in awe of her designs and helping her figure out why her sub's engine's not working is genius. Elizabeth's submarine itself looks great. The climax.. is also a lot of fun. The Dragoon battles blackbeard while as Jack he eventually has to hold two wires together and gets after effects lightninged all over. It's wonderfully dumb.

All in all this episode is just..

Has some highlights towards the end but most of the first two acts are a slog. Thankfully the next one's MOSTLY better.

Shark Bait

This one is better... though just to get it out of the way blackbeard is far worse. While he wasn't great in the first, the pirate ship was at least fun for a climax and he had the delightfully insane quirk of breathing fire. Here it just takes all his traits that made him hard to watch the constant shouting, the poor hygine jokes him creeping on elizabeth.. and..

I have to adress this in a bit more detail. The show is REALLY creepy with elizabeth at times, both with the fanservicy outfits (which are less to show off her sexuality and indepnednce and more LOOK EVERYONE BOOBS), the whole teddy bear joke but especially blackbeard who JUST WON'T STOP hitting on her and the show treats it like a wacky joke. I get this is the 2000s, it's why it dosen't destroy the episode for me but it's still just gross and I suspect something i'll have to deal with all series long. We even get a morning wood joke with jack which comes off as HAHA GET IT HE ASSAULTED HER. Her sexual indginities are treated as one big joke and it's VERY hard to stomach. Thankfully the show has a rapid fire pace to iron it out but I just.. woudln't feel right never adressing this.

But combinging with that with just "ISN'T THIS GUY GROSS JOKES" makes blackbeard fucking intolerable. Someone having pooor hygine.. just isn't funny. It wasn't funny when I was 10 and it's not funny now. Now you can MAKE someone's horrible hygine funny. Observe

Here the jokes are.. jokes. He's dirty, but they find ways to play with the joke. Someone being gross isn't funny unless you find a way to give it character. Blackbeard just shouts and smells bad. That's it. That's what they did with the character.

While BLackbeard dosen't help the episode the episode itself.. is a LOT of fun thankfully. Jack and elizabeth's banter is thankfully way more varied here, with jack being annoyed at her modes of transportation. A standout is jack preparing to fist fight the crew of the sub they've ended up on.. before Amelia points their outnumbered and they both hide. This seems more like what the series is actually like: two very diffrent people bickering and bantering and complementing each other. Jack even points out the obvious issue of using blackbeard to help them get around the ship: that he could recognize them from last time and it adds some nice tension. And ironically , if naturally it's jack who accidently blows it by mentoining her sub.

The plot itself is delightfully nuts: it starts out simple enougH: a mysterious sea monster is sinking ships going into palu-palu, and Elizzabeth ropes jack into helping it. We also get some classic bruce campbell wordplay as jack isn't pro pro bono. I swear no one else could pull that line off.

So our heroes use the sub, a nice call back, and it ends up swallowed by the monster.. which turns out to be a giant hammerhead shark shaped sub itself. That would be bonkers enough... but then we get to whose behind it: Nardo DaVinci, descendant of Leonardo Divinci. Nardo is a hell of a lot of fun, mostly berating his minons for being absolute morons, assuming a ping on the radar is just a fish, not bothering to search the sub for people and in my faviorite moment of the episode when the heroes later baricade themselves, trying to break down the door WITH A TORPEDO.

Said torpedo is the crux of Nardo's naturally over the top and hilariously stupid plan: he's invented the first, a nice little use of real world stuff before it's time. That'd be neat and all but the bonkers spice is his target: the annual founding father's father son boat cruise, where the founding families all take a trip out to sea. Just the.. concept alone is funny. Nardo helps his case by also being compitent: he repeadtely plans to have his men just shoot our heroes and ONLY gets sidetracked when Jack baits his ego.. and even then he plans to have them all shot to death right after and only looses them because Blackbeard can breathe fire. And let's face it "this pirate we're facing can breathe fire" isn't exactly something you can plan for. If your curious Nardo's crew shanghied blackbeard (and the previous ships) for his loot and have been making him swab the deck. It's also why the heroes use him at all as he ALLGEDLY knows his way around.

Our heroes escape is even more bonkers: our heroes have to SHOOT THEMSELVES OUT OF A TORPEDO TUBE. And jack has to make the lever swing since no one can pull it for him. And all of this is complete with hilariously cheap greenscreen.

Our finale is a fuckton of fun. Our heroes can't persue them in the sub since, unlike last time, it gives them no element of suprise and a boat is worse than useless. So how do they stop this dastardly da vinci?

So eliza has a hot air balloon they plan to use to huck stuff at the sub. They do end up dislodging the torpedo but have to hang loose from blackbeards farts. I.. I wish that wasn't a plot point. He figures out who they are.. but in TRYING TO MANUALLY PICK UP A TORPEDO HE FALLS DOWN AND APPARENTLY DIES DESTROYING THE SUB.. which somehow survivies fine as blackbeard is back aboard. Either way it's an awesome climax.

Overall Shark Bait is a solid episode with a fun guest star. It's brougth down because their version of blackbeard just plain sucks, but since future episodes i'll be covering don't have him, i'm happy to cover the series again. It's got a lot of fun qualiteis and let's face it i'll watch anything with bruce campbell in it, paid or not. Thanks for reading

#bruce campbell #jack of all trades #blackbeard #benjamin franklin #pirate month #pirates #sam rami #robert tapert

[pingutats]

wake up in some promised land

despite his best efforts to keep their relationship out of the public eye, harry & y/n are photographed together as they leave a party one night —and harry has an interview the very next morning.

warnings: a little bit of angst about trying to navigate fame and a relationship. harry has a foul mouth. but there’s a happy ending!

word count: 2.2k

.                               .                           .                               .                           .

Harry was decidedly not in a good mood. 

It had been a late night. He’d had a few more drinks than he usually did. In his defence it was earned—he’d just released an album, it was soaring to great heights on iTunes charts all over the world and already receiving overwhelmingly positive reviews—so sue him if he indulged in some expensive champagne, a couple fancy cocktails, too many rounds of shots for him to remember clearly… It was a good night all around. 

The headache he has right now though, brought on by the sudden blare of his alarm (far earlier than he would have preferred), threatens to tarnish the memory. He even considers swearing off drinking forever so he’ll never suffer like this again. 

When he voices this intention to a dozing Y/N as he pulls a shirt on, his only feedback is a pillow-muffled, “You’re such an old man, H.”

He leans over the bed and kisses the small part of her forehead that’s exposed between the pillow and the blanket. “Come on, love. Time to get up.”

“You can get up. I don’t have a radio appearance to make.” She jerks the blanket up to cover her head entirely. “I’ll stay here, thank you very much.”

He manages to drag her downstairs with him anyway, with promises of making her coffee and a hot breakfast. In the kitchen she yawns and stretches, the over-sized sleep shirt opening like bat wings as she raises her arms above her head. He has to force his fond gaze away to concentrate on turning the coffee machine on and pulling eggs out of the fridge. 

“This is a really ungodly hour,” she comments, watching him rummage around in a cupboard for a frying pan. 

“No such thing as a good night’s sleep when you’re as successful as I am,” he tells her wisely. 

She doesn’t even indulge him with a laugh, which tells him exactly how tired she is. 

The coffee’s done quickly—Harry is so addicted to the stuff he could probably make it in his sleep with all the practise he’s had—and she grabs the cup from him with greedy fingers, closing her eyes and sipping as she’s perched up on the counter. 

Harry nearly lets out a moan when the caffeine hits his lips. It surely can’t work that quickly, but already he’s starting to feel alive again. He turns to the stovetop and cracks the eggs in the frypan with one hand, using his other hand to cling to his cup for dear life. 

His phone starts ringing and the sound pierces through his head. His manager’s name is displayed, which is a good thing because if it was anyone else calling right now Harry would probably be tempted to kill them, and even if no publicity is bad publicity, he’s not sure a murder charge would be good for his album sales. He slides his finger across the screen to answer it and tucks the phone between his cheek and shoulder while he adjusts the heat on the stove. 

“Hey, Jeff,” he says. 

Jeff laughs on the other end. “You sound fucked.”

“Big night,” Harry grumbles. “You don’t sound to pretty yourself.”

“All I’m saying is you better get yourself set in the next half hour, ‘cause a voice like that on the radio isn’t going to help you sell records.”

“I’m makin’ breakfast,” Harry retorts. “Got a coffee, I’ll be fine—oh, shit—fuck!” He’s mixed up his hands as he tried to flip the eggs, and poured coffee in the frypan. “Give me a second.”

He sets his coffee down on the counter and unsticks his phone from his cheek, turning it on speaker and placing it next to his cup. He stares at mess in the frypan and decides he’s going to have to try drain the liquid into the sink, without losing the eggs. He accepts this challenge with humility and grace, because he knows it’s his own stupid fault.

Y/N is cackling behind him. On any other day he might have been annoyed, but her laughter this morning just means that she’s in a better mood than earlier. He’d give anything to keep her happy, so if it takes fucking up their breakfast to have her smiling—so be it. 

“Okay,” Harry says to Jeff once he’s secured the situation. 

“Is everything okay over there?” Jeff’s voice is slightly tinny through the phone speaker, but his stress is evident in his tone. 

“Yeah, we’re just—“ he looks at the eggs, dyed brown by the coffee, and glances over his shoulder apologetically at Y/N. “We’re having caffeinated eggs. You’re on speaker. Y/N’s here too. Say hi, baby.”

“Hey, Jeff,” Y/N chirps. 

Jeff sighs. “Hi. Listen, it‘s probably good that you both hear this anyway. There are a couple of photos of the two of you from last night that are doing the rounds on Twitter this morning.”

Harry stiffens. “What?”

Here’s the thing: Harry and Y/N are definitely an item. It’s happened pretty quickly. They’ve been dating for a few months and now whenever they’re in the same city they’re practically living together. They’ve said “I love you” to each other often enough that its utterance isn’t a special occasion anymore. So, sure, they’re boyfriend-girlfriend, and if all goes to Harry’s plan, they’ll be more than that soon enough.

But in the meantime, she’s also his best-kept secret. There have been rumours, of course. They’ve been spotted having lunch together or going on walks. Anyone paying attention knows they’re good friends, but Harry has been careful not to let the other dimension of their relationship slip out into public yet. He conducts himself on public outings (secretly dates) like a Victorian gentleman, constantly vigilant that his affection never goes beyond what’s appropriate between friends. 

“They’re not bad,” Jeff says quickly. “It’s just pretty obvious what’s going on. I’ll send them to you, hang on.”

Y/N slides off the bench and comes to stand right behind Harry, leaning around him to stare at the phone. The minute of waiting for the photos to come through feels like forever. Y/N must sense his tension, because she puts her hands on his shoulders and squeezes. 

A notification pops up at the top of his screen: from Jeff, 8 images attached. He taps it quickly and frowns at the photos. 

They must have been taken as they were leaving the bar that the album release party was at. He notices Jeff and others also crowded on the pavement outside, lit by the orange glow of streetlights. The focus, however, is of course on Harry and Y/N, who were putting on something of a show for all their friends—and, apparently, the rest of the world. 

The first couple are okay. There Harry is, his arm slung around Y/N, clearly not sober as he bellows something up to the sky with a massive grin on his face and closed eyes. They were singing, he vaguely remembers, the karaoke they were doing inside the bar spilling over the rest of their night. Y/N is laughing at him, clapping her hands together.

Harry drags his finger up the screen to scroll to the next photos in Jeff’s chain. These ones start to reveal the two of them as much more than just friends. The arm around her dropped to her waist, pulling her into his body. And then he was bending his head down. And then he was kissing her. 

He scrolls down even further. 

In this one, he’s groping her ass in full view of the camera. 

“Harry, you lecher!” Y/N scolds, smacking his arm in good humour.

He just shakes his head, staring at the photo. “There’s no plausible deniability, is there?”

“There isn’t,” Jeff says over the phone. He laughs weakly. “You two put on a real show.” He must sense the panic that Harry’s feeling, because he adds, “Listen, Harry, I can blacklist questions about it if you want. Just tell me what you want to do.”

Harry looks at Y/N, chewing on his lip. He feels like a teenager again, out of control of his narrative and at the mercy of the media. He’s meticulously developed his skills of privacy for years, now, and one night of insobriety and bad luck undid it all. 

Jeff clears his throat. “The thing with blacklisting is that it might raise more questions. And even if you don’t talk about it, you’ve gotta remember that everyone else will be.”

“Yeah.” Harry runs a hand through his hair. “Look—“

Y/N puts her hand on his cheek, patting him. “Hey,” she says gently. “It’s okay.”

He sucks in a deep breath through gritted teeth and holds it in for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he says finally with a sigh. 

She scoffs. “You’re not the only one in these photos.”

He frowns. She doesn’t get that he’s apologising for more than just the photos. It’s the fact that they have to deal with this at all, that it’s such a big deal for them to simply act like a normal couple. It’s the fact that it’s him, and he is who he is. 

“H,” she presses further. “It’s up to you. Your decision. But I want you to know that I’m happy whichever way you choose.”

He searches her eyes for any hint of doubt. She didn’t manage to clean off all her make-up last night, and there’s a smear of glitter on her temple and dark smudges of mascara underneath her eyes. She looks tired, but she’s definitely serious about what she’s saying. 

“You get what it means to be public with me, though,” he says at last. He hesitates. “It’s… intense.”

She shrugs and gives him a cocky grin. “Nothing I can’t handle.” 

“I’m being serious.”

“I am too.” She’s holding his head in her hands, her fingers smoothing his unruly curls off his face. “It’s just a few photos. It isn’t everything.”

It isn’t everything. Harry closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then leans down to kiss her gently. It’s just an innocent peck, but the feel of her soft lips against his is enough to ground him.

Jeff clears his throat awkwardly. 

They break apart with embarrassed smiles. “Sorry,” Harry says, but he isn’t really.

“Yeah,” Jeff says, sounding uncomfortable. “You’re going to have to make a decision soon, because we’re really cutting it fine.”

Harry looks at Y/N, who nods. 

He turns back to the phone. “Don’t worry about it,” Harry says. “Let them ask the questions.”

“Yeah?” Jeff asks. “Okay then, that saves me a load of trouble. Good luck, man. Enjoy it.”

“Thanks,” Harry says, hanging up with a sharp tap on the screen. He turns around to Y/N with a grin on his face. “Where were we…”

Y/N giggles as he gathers her into his arms, pulling her in close for a kiss that no one else can see or hear, a kiss just for them. When she pulls back to breath, he peppers his lips all over her face until she’s squirming away—“Harry, that tickles!”

He lands one last kiss on her cheek before his gaze lands on the time display on the oven behind her, which tells him he has ten minutes before he needs to be on the Zoom call for the interview. 

She notices the sudden shift in his demeanour and glances behind her to see what caused it. She turns back around. “I’ll sit with you.”

He nods. “Yeah, okay, I’d like that.”

“It’s Harry Styles!” the presenter cries. 

“It’s me! Hello, hello,” he says, waving at the screen. The laptop is set on the coffee table and he’s sitting on the couch, elbows resting on his knees as he grins at the screen. “How are ya?”

“Oh, we’re wonderful,” the presenter replies. “More importantly, how are you? Looks like you had a big night last night, judging by these photos we’re seeing!”

He chuckles. “Yeah. Big night,” he echoes, dragging out the word. 

The presenter laughs. “Sounds like a great time. Well deserved after this masterpiece of an album. And, correct me if I’m wrong, but it looks like you’re quite close with somebody there. Would you explain what’s going on here, Harry?”

Harry peers at the photo displayed on his computer screen, even though he knows exactly what it will be. The one they chose is a sweet one, with Y/N’s arms wrapped around his neck and kiss that he seems to be melting into. He can’t suppress his smile at that. “Oh, well,” he says. “That’s my friend Y/N.”

The presenter raises his eyebrows at that. “Good friend, is she?”

Harry glances up over the laptop to look at Y/N, sitting on the other couch, her cheeks pink and round from her smile. Harry surreptitiously reaches his arm towards her, out of frame, and she leans forward to hold his hand. 

“She is. She’s a lovely girl.” He squeezes her hand. “Yeah, we’re very good friends.”

.                               .                           .                               .                           .

thank you so much for reading! this fic is based on a request from @kissmyaxe140 — i really intended this to be a shorter blurb of a few hundred words, but i’m incapable of brevity. apparently. this grew into a little monster but i rlly had fun writing it!! the title is a lyric from secret life by bleachers.

if you liked this fic, a reblog and/or any kind of feedback would be very much appreciated. my masterlist can be found here and you can send me messages here. have a gorgeous day!

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #fic

[jackrrabbit]

it will come back [pt. 2] /// Yandere Shigaraki x f!Reader

Summary: You have a bad habit of picking up strays, and the half-dead villain you find bleeding out in a dumpster is no exception. [Part 1] [Part 3]

A/N: Title from the Hozier song—“don’t let it in with no intention to keep it / jesus christ, don’t be kind to it / oh honey don’t feed it / it will come back.”

Tags/warnings: yandere, violence (not directed toward reader), crying, Shiggy REALLY likes you, reader needs a friend and a good night’s sleep, non-explicit sexual content. [In later parts: 18+, sex, other stuff]

He—Tomura—keeps visiting.

At first you think it’s because of the free medical care, and you wish you had the spine to tell him to suck it up and go see a professional. After a couple weeks turn into a couple months and his wounds fade into ragged purple scars, though, you start to think differently.

Within a short time Tomura has figured out your work schedule, and he does a decent job of not showing up after your long shifts. The unavoidable consequence of this is that he ends up monopolizing your precious days off, but you come to the realization about a month and a half in that you don’t actually mind. You like it. It’s like spending time with a friend.

Mostly you guys talk. It doesn’t seem like Tomura really has anyone to talk to the way the two of you do, but that’s probably just you projecting. It’s usually shallow stuff—TV shows you like, video games he plays, funny stories from patients you treated. Sometimes when you’re cooking for yourself, you make extra for him. (It happens a lot, actually, and at one point you bring up how much his appetite is costing you and the next time you see him he brings a bag of rice and makes you a porridge that crunches between your teeth when you try to eat it. You can’t finish yours, but he eats an entire bowl and insists that you’re being picky.)

Sometimes he sleeps over on the couch, but he’s always gone when you wake up.

The two of you skirt around the heavier stuff, and you know it’s intentional on his part. You have to resist the urge to ask him about being a villain—he’s all but confirmed it for you, and it’s human nature to be curious, isn’t it? In the same way you can’t help looking at a car crash, you want to poke and prod and find out what it is, exactly, that Tomura does for a living. That part of his life is suspiciously absent from your discussions—if you didn’t know better, you’d think he spends all of his time sleeping and playing games and breaking into your place.

On the other hand, you don’t want to know. Plausible deniability. You can accept criminality in the abstract, but you’ve treated too many victims of the bullshit hero–villain battle to be comfortable really knowing why Tomura avoids public places.

So you don’t ask about it, and Tomura doesn’t tell, and you don’t look up his name. And it’s easy. It’s nice. You’d forgotten what it’s like to come back to a home that isn’t empty.

And then one day when you get off a few hours early from your shift, you stop by a convenience store to pick up some snacks for yourself (hey, you’ve been working hard, you’re entitled to binge a little on foods that you’re afraid to look at the fat content for), and you think, Hm, I wonder if Tomura wants some.

[You: 7:49 PM] > Are you coming over today? [T: 7:49 PM] > Yeah why [You: 7:51 PM] > Getting snacks > Want some? [T: 7:51 PM] > No

[T: 8:12 PM] > When r u coming back to ur place

[T: 8:58 PM] > Hey where are you

[T: 9:39 PM] > (Y/N)?

There’s a man with a gun in the convenience store.

It takes you a second to process at first. You’re standing in the snack food aisle seeking out Oreos and debating the merits of Double Stuf vs. Mega when you catch the mumbled demand and the metallic clicking noise you’ve only ever heard in movies before. It’s a gun—you know that, but your mind dismisses it because it’s ridiculous. Guns are rare in hero society. People don’t go around robbing bodegas at gunpoint anymore.

(You should know better. You work in a goddamn ER. But you compartmentalize, and the crimes you see written across your patients’ bodies stay out of the realm of your personal life because you need them to.)

It’s only when you see the muzzle of a hunting rifle pushed up to the cashier’s sweaty neck that you really understand what’s happening.

You drop to the ground immediately, looking toward the exit but it’s shut and there’s some kind of metal…thing holding the door closed. The cashier mumbles a denial and you can hear him fumble around with the cash drawer for what feels like ages.

It’s real. This is real. You’re in the middle of a robbery. Where are the heroes? Why isn’t anyone doing anything?

God, you’re a hypocrite, cowering behind the aisle divider and waiting for someone to step up while the robber’s demands get increasingly louder and more frantic. He wants money, and the cashier (who, you remember, is a man in his sixties with hands that shake with Parkinson’s when he holds out your receipt) isn’t being fast enough.

“That’s it? There’s no more? Are you fucking kidding me, there’s gotta be a safe or something—“

“No! No, p-please, I’m sorry, this is all I have!”

You cringe, crushing your eyes closed as if that will make it go away. You’re surprised you can hear at all over the sound of your blood rushing in your ears.

“Don’t fuck with me old man, I know there’s more! Show me the safe or I’ll blow your goddamn brains out!”

No! You have to do something. You can’t just sit here. You’ve heard plenty of death threats from your patients (not to mention that one from Tomura), and you know the difference between a bluff and a serious warning. Maybe you can catch the robber off guard, try to pull the gun away? You stand up quickly, hoping against hope that you won’t regret this, but in a split second you see that the cashier has the same idea and he’s trying to pull the rifle out of the robber’s hand and—

BANG.

Something warm and wet splatters across your face.

///

Tomura is angry when you get back to the apartment. As soon as he hears your key in the lock he rises from your couch so he can grab your collar with three fingers, jerking your head up to force you to look at him. “Where have you been? Do you know how long I’ve been waiting—“

But he cuts short in the middle of his sentence. Maybe because he sees the look on your face. Or maybe he just notices the traces of blood you haven’t been able to wipe off.

“What happened,” Tomura says. It’s not a question. He adjusts his grip slightly so it’s not quite as punishing, but you hold still anyway.

You have to force your mouth open in order to speak, but when your voice comes out it’s more steady than you thought it would be. “It’s not my blood. There was a robbery at the store. The cashier got shot.”

“Oh.” He releases you and frowns. “That’s it?”

“Fuck you.” You push past him into the kitchen to get yourself a drink with trembling hands. Pantry’s out of shōchū, whiskey will just make you sicker—ahh, there it is. Baijiu. The glug glug glug of the liquor into the glass does nothing to put your nerves at ease, but you pour yourself a double anyway.

“Wait—wait.” Tomura’s hands twitch and rub over his arms like he’s trying to stop himself from grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you. “Calm down. Why are you so upset? Don’t you see this stuff every day?”

You do. You’re an ER nurse. There’s no injury you haven’t seen. But it’s not about the blood. “I...I knew him. The cashier. He was nice. He had a grandkid on the way. I—“ You bite your lip and down the baijiu in one gulp. It burns.

Tomura clearly doesn’t know how to comfort you; probably doesn’t even really know why you need to be comforted. What does it mean that death is so meaningless to him? you wonder. But you need someone to listen to you, clueless or not, and Tomura will have to do.

The baijiu is still bitter and hot down your throat when you speak again. “You know something? Know what they asked me when the heroes finally showed up and pulled us out of there, me and the corpse?”

“…What?” Tomura asks warily.

“They stuck a camera in my face and asked me if there was anything I wanted to say to the hero who saved me. Any words of gratitude I wanted to share,” you spit. Now it’s your turn to feel your hands making fists at your sides. Your fingernails scratch into your palms like the pain can be an outlet for the sudden overwhelming fury spilling over you. “They didn’t save him. They were too late.”

Tomura’s eyes widen, and through your curtain of anger you can tell he’s looking at you in a way he’s never looked at you before. It’s unlike him to even look directly at you, and when he does it’s usually in disinterest or half-sincere irritation. This, though…this is different. He’s watching you like a believer watches a prophet. You can tell—or at least some deep, ugly part of you that you hope is wrong can tell—that he’s trying not to smile.

“I hate this,” you say, and the first tear drips out of your eye and runs down your cheek. It’s awful. You don’t want to cry in front of Tomura. You don’t want to show him how weak you are. But before you can wipe it away, Tomura’s hand comes up and does it for you, smearing the tear over your cheek in a gesture that—for him—is oddly tender.

Then he hugs you.

It’s stiff and awkward, like he’s forgotten how to do it, but the intention is clear. His arms fold around your back, pulling you into his chest while his chin makes its way to rest on your shoulder. He’s leaning into you so deeply that your spine is arched back, and you stagger away from him only for him to step closer again to make up the distance.

“It’s not fair, hm,” he murmurs into your hair. His tone is the closest thing to sympathy you’ve ever heard from him, but there’s an undercurrent of excitement you can’t ignore. “They’re always too late, aren’t they? The heroes… And everyone will watch that video of you thanking the heroes, and they’ll think they’re safe too. They’ll keep going about their lives and think that nothing bad can happen to them because a hero will always be around to save them…but you and I know that’s a lie.”

It takes you a second to recognize the emotion that’s raising goosebumps over your arms while Tomura rubs circles into your back, but when it clicks you shiver because it’s fear. You’ve never really been afraid of Tomura before, even when you should’ve been. Does he realize he’s backing you up with how forcefully he’s pushing himself into you? The backs of your knees hit the arm of your couch and you topple onto it with Tomura following.

He holds himself above you on his hands, legs tangled with yours. His eyes are wild and he’s not even trying to suppress his grin now. You’re trapped lying on your back under him—pinned like a butterfly under glass.

“Get off of me,” you say as calmly as you can.

“It’s all a lie, all of it…” A hand comes up and strokes your cheek, rubbing with two fingers at a stray fleck of blood on your neck. “I’m sorry it had to be like this, but I’m so glad you understand…”

“Let me up now, Tomura.”

He holds still for a long moment—waiting, thinking, considering—and then sits up, still straddling you but loosely enough that you can scramble back away from him on the couch. Your heart is racing, but you try to slow your breaths so he doesn’t pick up on how scared you are.

“Don’t freak out. You’re no fun,” Tomura says, and you exhale a sigh of relief at how normal he sounds. You never thought you’d be so happy about him looking at you like you’re nothing.

“I think you should go,” you say carefully.

He rocks back on his heels and runs a hand through his hair. “Are you mad? I thought I could stay here tonight, like usual. Since I waited for so long.”

“I’m not mad. I just…want to be alone.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone tonight. Not after what you’ve been through.”

Oh, now you care. “Fine. Okay? Fine. You can sleep on the couch.” You’re too tired to argue any more, and you’ve never really been good at convincing Tomura to do anything he doesn’t want to. It’s a miracle he listened to you when you told him to get off you. Considering how often he breaks into your apartment, it’s not like you could keep him out anyway.

So he stays the night. He doesn’t bother you when you take a shower and go to bed, he just lies on the couch in his street clothes. When you wake up in the morning he’s disappeared like he always does, and for the first time since you met him you’re truly relieved that he’s gone.

///

You always thought it would take some level of courage you don’t possess to actually bite the bullet and look Tomura up. To do so would mean saying goodbye to whatever strange relationship the two of you have built over the months, and you’re just not brave enough to risk it.

Turns out it’s not courage that makes you type his name into the search bar. It’s cowardice. You’re lying in bed under the covers when you do it, and the blue-white screen of your laptop is the only light in the room. Your comforter is pulled up almost over your head like it’s a wall that can block out reality.

“tomura”, you enter into the search bar, but you don’t hit return. Instead, you look at the search suggestions.

> tomura shigaraki > tomura shigaraki league of villains > tomura shigaraki decay

Something about it sounds familiar. But you’re not ready. Still, after everything, you’d rather keep your eyes closed. You backspace and snap your laptop shut, and when you do your room is so dark that you think the emptiness might swallow you up.

///

[T: 5:52 PM] > Are u going to be at home tn

[T: 6:14 PM] > Hey check ur phone

[T: 6:42 PM] > Stop ignoring me > (Y/N) > (Y/N) > (Y/N) > (Y/N) > (Y/N)

[T: 6:46 PM] 3 MISSED CALLS [You: 6:50 PM] > I’m at work [T: 6:50 PM] > Don’t lie > you finished an hour ago

[T: 7:13 PM] 1 MISSED CALL [T: 7:14 PM] > You said you werent mad [You: 7:15 PM] > I’m not [T: 7:15 PM] > Then stop being a brat > im coming over > ill bring takeout

You’re nervous about seeing him, but in the two weeks since he pushed you down on the couch you’ve found yourself…missing him. Like it or not, he’s made himself a fixture in your life. So when you get home you’re brimming with anticipation, wondering who you’ll get when you open the door—the normal Tomura you’ve come to like over the past few months, or the one from that night. The villain.

But it’s just him. Good old Tomura, laden with plastic bags and containers of greasy fast food for the two of you to gorge yourselves on. You tease him for being cheap and he argues that you’re just a snob and everything seems so normal that you can almost forget the look in his red eyes when he told you that you understood.

Almost.

///

You probably have no idea how good you look when you’re crying.

Of the couple thousand views on the news channel video of your “rescue” from the convenience store robber, at least a tenth are from Tomura. Eventually he just downloads the video onto his computer so he doesn’t have to read the inane comments that the other viewers leave on the webpage. It seems like everyone but him thinks you should feel lucky that you were saved by a hero before the robber could get to you, too.

As always, the public are a bunch of shit-soaked morons. Reading the comments makes him angry, so angry he’s tempted to look into a few of these brainless sheep and see how lucky they feel when they’ve caught the attention of a violent criminal. But that wouldn’t be productive, so he saves the video externally and leaves the news website alone. It’s for the best. Besides, seeing the “views” counter on the website tick up and up by the dozen every time he refreshes is just another reminder that other people are watching this; other people are seeing how delicate and vulnerable and pretty you are with tears spilling out of your eyes and the cashier’s blood sprayed over your clothing.

Thousands of useless fucking NPCs are looking at you just like Tomura is. They’re probably thinking about how sweet you look, just like he is. And they’re probably imagining all the ways they can take advantage of your fragile emotional state, just like him.

You’re too trusting for your own good. Tomura used to think it was a virtue, and it is, but only when it comes to him. Whenever he thinks about how your face is slapped over a dozen different news websites for the whole world to see, he has to dig his fingernails into his neck to keep calm. It’s better when he can just watch the video and pretend he’s the only one seeing it.

And it’s not like not watching the video is an option. Tomura can’t resist your crying face. There’s a point around the three minute mark where your voice breaks in the middle of your statement, and sometimes Tomura skips there in the video just so he can hear that pathetic little sob and replay it over and over and over. Maybe it’s sappy, but Tomura really does feel his heart skip a beat at the way your eyes and nose are rubbed red from your misery.

How fucked up is it that he gets off watching you cry?

Would you be angry if you knew? You probably would, but you put up with so much from him already. Maybe you’d be okay with it if he told you he really and truly tried to hold out. The first dozen times Tomura watched the video, he refused to touch himself no matter how tight his pants got while you choked out your stilted answers to the reporters’ questions, but at this point he barely has to click “play” on the video before he gets hard and takes matters into his own hands.

At the end of the day, it’s your fault. Everything about you is so erotic, from your shaky voice to your pouty, bitten-red lips. Isn’t it completely normal to be aroused while looking at the person you like? And Tomura likes you, he really likes you. He doesn’t have any pictures of you, and with the high definition of the news channel’s video he can see every perfect contour of your cheekbones, every pore in your skin, every glistening wet eyelash.

It’s not that Tomura doesn’t feel sympathy for how upset you are in the video. He does! Not even just sympathy, even—he’s empathetic. He knows exactly how it feels to be let down by the heroes. How dare they tell you you need to be grateful while you’re still trying to wipe brain matter off your shirt? Always too little, too late. It’s not fair.

But if he’s being honest? As miserable as you are, Tomura is happy that you were in the store when that robber came in and that you had to watch a man you knew get his brains blown out in front of you. You need a wake-up call to lose faith in hero society. If you have to suffer some emotional trauma in the process, that seems like a fair price to pay.

And the fact that Tomura gets to jerk off to it? It’s almost like destiny.

➠ [Part 3]

#Shigaraki Tomura x reader #bnha x reader #yandere bnha #yandere Shigaraki Tomura x reader #yandere Shigaraki Tomura #0 to 100 real quick? #mha x reader #bnha imagines #Shigaraki x reader #Shigaraki Tomura #bnha #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagines #mha #my hero academia #mha imagines #my hero academia imagines #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader #Yandere #yandere bnha x reader #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia x reader #yandere mha #yandere mha x reader #yandere Shigaraki #yandere Shigaraki x reader

[morganaspendragonss]

If you still have the square open, fingore for Tarlos? I looked it up and the definition made me all cringy lol because I am a giant wuss, so I was thinking maybe threat of fingore (or actual fingore if you want to go for it because you are clearly made of cooler and tougher stuff than me ;) ), something with Carlos hostage on a case and the bad guys want him to give up some information? Or Carlos is protecting TK somehow and won't tell them where he is?

holly's august extravaganza day 8: we'll hold each other soon

unfortunately the square had already been taken when this came through but i hope you like what i came up with! thanks for the prompt! tied into chapters five and eleven from the breeze in my austin nights

ao3 | 2.1k | angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, torture, carlos briefly thinks tk is dead but he's not

Carlos had known this would happen. He’s known for weeks; he’s felt the suspicion in the gang growing, sensed his cover crumbling bit by bit. It’s been especially bad since his run-in with Paul and Marjan, but that was really just the final straw.

Things with this mission have been going sideways for a long time. He’d reported it to his supervisors, of course he had, but all they’d said was that the case was too important to give up just because of one man’s feeling.

He wishes he could take satisfaction in being proved right.

Unfortunately, him being right means nothing to his supervisors. For Carlos, it means getting dragged out of his temporary apartment in the early hours of the morning and taken, blindfolded and gagged, to a remote corner of town, probably unknown to everyone outside of the gang.

Carlos doesn’t struggle as he’s shoved into a chair and chained by the feet, his hands and torso bound to the wood with a rough rope that rubs his skin painfully. By the low mutters and footsteps echoing around the room, it’s clear there’s more than just one or two of the gang holding him, so he figures that fighting will only make things worse for him.

Once he’s sufficiently tied up, the blindfold is yanked from his eyes and the gag removed. Carlos gratefully sucks in a few deep breaths, blinking hard as his vision adjusts to the harsh fluorescent lighting in the room. There are six men surrounding him and Carlos recognises one as the gang leader, Manese. Another, Daniels, is holding a crowbar, and all of them are armed with at least one gun, probably more.

Carlos, meanwhile, is lucky he’s wearing socks.

Thank god for draughty apartments.

Manese steps forward, his hard stare betraying little emotion. “I’m gonna cut the bullshit, Reyes,” he says. “We know who you are, we know you’ve been passing information to other cops, and we know you’re probably not doing it alone.

“So, you’ve got two choices. Either you make it easy for us and we’ll make it easy for you—I’d say I’d let you live, but you and I both know I can’t do that. But I will leave a body to bury. Or, you make it difficult and we’ll return the favour. And, believe me, we can make things very, very difficult for you.” He grins and spreads his hands out, tipping them in a mimic of a set of scales. “This only ends one way for you, Reyes. All you gotta do is decide how fast you want to get there.”

The look Manese sends him lets Carlos know that he already knows exactly what decision he’s going to make, and that he’s going to enjoy it. Carlos sighs and closes his eyes, briefly hanging his head. He spares a thought for his family back in Austin—his parents, TK—and prays that, whatever happens, they’ll at least be able to get some closure.

Then, he steels himself and looks Manese dead in the eyes. “Do what you want. I’m not telling you anything.”

Manese’s grin takes on a shark-like quality, and Carlos has to force himself not to react to the way he leers at him. “Excellent choice.” He flicks his hand and Daniels steps forward, a manic look in his eye as he flexes his grip around the crowbar.

Carlos barely has a moment to prepare himself before all he knows is pain.

*

He screams as the crowbar comes down for what feels like the hundredth time, eliciting a sickening crack as his arm breaks. Carlos’s vision white out and he folds in on himself as much as he can, his left arm straining to cradle his right, but all he achieves is the already abused skin becoming more raw and sore. He breathes heavily, blinking rapidly as the room slowly swims into view once more. Daniels looks bored, the crowbar swinging loosely in his grasp, and Manese seems to be running out of patience.

“Got your memory back yet, Reyes?” he asks tersely.

Carlos just shakes his head and braces himself for the next hit.

Which doesn’t come.

And doesn’t come.

And doesn’t come.

Carlos squints up at them, frowning when he sees Manese with a hand on Daniels’ arm as he studies him closely. The calculating glint in his eye sends a flash of dread through Carlos; nothing good can possibly come of this.

“Go for his fingers next,” he orders after a while, releasing Daniels. “I don’t care how—break them, shoot them, crush them, whatever—just get me answers.” He turns to Carlos and tuts, sighing heavily in mock regret. “This is your own fault, Reyes. All this can be over like that”—he snaps his fingers—“if you just give me what I want. A couple names, a location or two, that’s all I’m asking. Not much, right?”

Carlos stubbornly stays silent—at this point, he’s not sure he has enough breath left to speak even if he wanted to—and Manese sighs again.

“Your funeral.” He shrugs and steps back to give Daniels room, but before anything can happen, one of the others in the room rushes forward to whisper something to Manese. Carlos can’t hear what’s being said and he’s too exhausted to try; all he can feel is relief for the brief reprieve. His arm is screaming at him, the pain in the rest of his body paling in comparison, and he’s not sure how much longer he can stand it.

The hushed mutters continue for another minute, until eventually Manese nods sharply and four of the six men in the room file out. He smiles at Carlos, sickly sweet, and claps his hands together once, rubbing them for good measure. “Looks like it’s your lucky day, Reyes,” he says, with a lazy drawl that can’t mean anything good. “Business calls.”

Carlos doesn’t have time to comprehend what that means before Manese and Daniels are also leaving, flipping them lights off as they go.

And Carlos is left alone.

*

Time means nothing as Carlos waits for someone to return and finish what they started. The only thing he’s certain of is that something must have changed to get Manese to halt his torture, and it probably isn’t a very good something.

Not for Carlos, at least.

He thinks about trying to escape, but even slight movements are so painful that he fears he might throw up or pass out or, more likely, both. Besides, even if he did manage to get out of the bonds on his arms and torso, there would still be the chains on his feet to deal with, and Carlos knows there’s more of a chance of rescue than him dealing with those on his own, especially with a broken arm.

His mind is left to wander, and he keeps circling back to one point that seems to solidify itself more with each second that passes.

He’s not getting out of here.

A fresh wave of pain—not physical, this time—washes through him, and his whole chest aches as he thinks of TK. He’d been so worried for Carlos ever since they found out about the case, and he’d begged him to stay safe the morning he’d left just over three months ago.

“Be careful, please,” TK said, smoothing down the lapels of Carlos’s shirt. “Whatever happens out there, whatever you have to do, just promise me one thing. Promise you’ll come back to me.”

Carlos knew better than to promise something like that, and TK knew better than to ask it. But because it was him, and because it was TK, Carlos just nodded and leaned in to press a kiss to TK’s temple.

“I promise,” he whispered, pulling away. TK didn’t let him go far before dragging him into a real kiss. It felt like it lasted forever, only to seem far too short when they broke apart, still clinging to one another. Carlos allowed himself another minute in TK’s embrace, then forced himself to move away, giving his boyfriend one last smile.

TK returned it with a smile of his own, and Carlos carried it with him long after the door swung closed between them.

It’s the last good memory Carlos has, and he’s going to hold onto it for as long as he has left. If he’s going to die, then the last thing he wants to see is TK’s smile, even if it is just in his mind.

*

Carlos is nearly blinded when the lights suddenly turn back on, revealing Manese and two other gang members standing in front of him. He only vaguely recognises these two—it’s possible he could dredge up some names if he thought about it for long enough, but his attention is locked on Manese, who looks far too pleased with himself, in the same way a predator must look before it catches its prey.

“You’ve made it clear you’re not going to give us any names,” Manese says, “so now I’m going to give you one.” He steps closer and lowers his voice, grinning like he’s sharing a secret just for the two of them. “Tyler Kennedy Strand.”

Carlos’s blood runs cold at the sound of TK’s name.

TK’s full name.

“What—” but his ruined and dry throat refuses to cooperate. Instead, he levels a glare at Manese, and hopes that it’s enough to convey every single question and threat running through his mind right now.

If possible, Manese’s smile widens. “Recognise it do you?” he says lightly. “I thought you might. See, Carlos, we have people all over, not just in this shithole town, and once we knew who you were, it was child’s play to track down your nearest and dearest. And who is nearer and dearer than that pretty boy of yours?”

He steps back and snaps his fingers, holding his hand out. One of the others hands him a slip of paper, which Manese then presents to Carlos, dropping it carelessly in his lap. “Take a look.”

Curiosity getting the better of him, Carlos looks down at what he realises is a photograph. He can’t understand it at first, but slowly the details become clearer and more familiar, and—god.

“I’ll give him credit, he put up quite the fight,” Manese is saying, but he sounds like he’s shouting down a tunnel, the roaring in Carlos’s ears blocking out most other sounds. “It’s unfortunate that fists can’t stop a bullet.”

*

Everything stops making sense after that.

TK is dead.

TK is dead.

It makes no sense, so why should anything else? Carlos stares and stares at the photo, and keeps staring even after it’s snatched out of his lap, the image burned onto his retinas by now. He’s aware, distantly, of voices and sounds and sensations but they’re all muted, happening outside this bubble he’s created around himself.

He wishes they’d just get it over with.

*

Carlos blinks, and there’s someone new in front of him, someone unfamiliar who touches him gently and looks at him kindly.

He blinks and the scenery changes. He’s in a vehicle, staring up at a white ceiling, being taken...somewhere. He feels warm and the pain has dimmed, but he’s sinking again before he can put a thought to what that means.

He blinks and he’s in a bed, a woman standing in front of him and asking him questions. Carlos doesn’t really understand what’s going on, doesn’t know what could possibly be more important than the fact that TK is dead and it’s all his fault. He shakes his head at the woman and turns away.

He blinks, and TK is there.

And, when he blinks again, TK is still there.

And it’s—it’s impossible. He’s hallucinating or dreaming because TK is dead, and dead people don’t come back to life just because he might wish it.

So he tries, and he tries, and he tries to snap himself back to reality. But it doesn’t work, and TK is still in front of him, that crease between his brows growing with every second that passes. Carlos wants to reach out and smooth it away but he knows he can’t, and—

And, TK takes his hand and presses it to his chest.

Hallucinations don’t feel that solid.

They also don’t have a heartbeat.

This time, when TK doesn’t disappear, Carlos allows himself to believe.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby,” TK whispers in his ear, holding him close, warm and solid and alive. “I’m always going to be right here.”

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #carlos reyes #tk strand #lone star #911ls #holly's august extravaganza #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #221bsunsettowers

[bular]

Welcome to Live Commentary

I had no one to talk to while watching the movie and I hate being alone with my thoughts so I wrote everything down in my notes app. It's not coherent! Enjoy!

Aw yeah 1.5 seconds of Bular that is all I needed! Might as well stop now I've seen my boy I'm satisfied.

Why is there a nearly 4 minute recap as if I haven't watched the show at least 50 times. I should be the one giving the recap.

The beginning felt a bit forced to me but maybe that's just me? Like they just tried to squeeze too many things into a small timeframe without any buildup, it just didn't really work. Congrats on the engagement! This is my OTP so I'm very happy! But it came out of nowhere.

Nari in Douxies body is so wrong and I love it and hate it at the same time (positive)

Eli is BIG. I knew he was gonna be tall but I was not prepared for that chiseled face. Or the fact that he stepped off the ship without glasses? I wear glasses and I would not choose to step off a spaceship blind.

OkAY who had mpreg on their bingo card?

AAARRRGGHH actually said a full sentence 🥺 there is no heterosexual explanation for this scene and I'm here for it

Arcadia being the center of the universe really does make a lot of sense. I hate how much sense it makes. Despise it.

Strickler in a Christmas sweater is something i didn't know I needed. Jim's jacket too but that's just adorable, Jim's adorable. Oh sweet baby you're about to get fucked over so bad.

Love seeing Barbara actively participating in battle too. Good for her! Power family!!

Where are the kids tho? Is NotEnrique babysitting? Either that or they hired the girl from the Incredibles movie.

Nomura is so talented I love seeing her fighting on the good side. I can't explain it but I love digitigrade legs they're just so pretty?? Aesthetically pleasing??? Fuck yeah, legg! I could watch Nomura run around and be badass all day.

WAIT NO OH SHIT HOW DARE YOU FUCK

STRICKLER DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE NOT YOU TOO THAT'S TOO FUCKING RUDE DON'T DO THIS TO ME

THERE'S NO WAY HE'S DEAD RIGHT WE SAW NO BODY

Barbara does not deserve this I refuse to accept it. He's fine he'll be back they wouldn't kill two Changelings at once. Also Nomura is with Draal now I take no criticism.

So my favorite characters were Bular, Draal, Gunmar and Angor. And before this movie I always half-joked that everyone I love dies, how I still like Strickler and Nomura but apart from them all of my faves were killed in the very order of favoritism. AND NOW LOOK AT THIS. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I LOVE A CHARACTER. MY LOVE IS TOXIC.

OKAY I LOVE GUN RO- WAIT NO I DON'T LOVE HIM FUCK ABORT ABORT

It's great tho omg

I didn't realize it was Gun Robot when I saw it in the trailer this is amazing

Okay but imagine you're chilling in your trollmarket minding your own business when some misfit group of strangers waltzes in, steals your favorite shiny and celebrates your death before running off

"I AM GUN ROBOT" IS THE HORN LMAOOO

Nana better show up at some point to reunite with her boytoy, I'll cancel this entire franchise otherwise

Something bad is going to happen to Toby isn't it. He's getting too much screentime

Jim's hand got DEEP FRIED

ARCHIE NO

We can play Scrabble okay if they don't free them (which they must) I want an after credits scene of them playing scrabble

Douxie and Nari's bond 🥺🥺🥺

Nari pls just say what you fuckin mean the world is ending

Oh god is she going to remember killing Nomura oh nooo

Claire don't make the portal you will die again. Your hair gon be white all over

EVERYONE AVOIDING THE SCHOOL JUST RIGHT THERE LMAO RIP

I love how Darci is just with the school bus. Civilian girlfriend. But also love how the world is ending and Coach is like "fuck that I'm gonna teach these kids"

Does he know his son is pregnant

"Going back to the city where it's safe" buddy have you been to that city

Whatever happens, Nari has the coolest looking titan. Giant four legged gremlin. I'd adopt him.

WAIT SHE CAN FEEL THE PAIN?

Me: oh i love that titan

The titan 5 seconds later:

Did Nari just fucking die what the FUCK

Oh of COURSE the pages are stuck together RIGHT THERE

Seriously tho how do you not notice an entire nougat nummy in a book

Wait so Arcadia has another heartstone? Or OH SO IT'S ALIVE. OKAY GREAT. GUNMAR COULDN'T EVEN DO THAT RIGHT HUH

Love how the Heartstone has been dormant/dead for months and apparently heard Blinky say it's alive and decided to wake up RIGHT THEN

Finally they're evacuating the city. This is like, the third apocalypse there. About time.

Okay so you can't pull Excalibur from the rock, but you CAN carve out the stone. Couldn't you just carve it off the sword as close as possible and like. Use that? Just swing the whole damn rock around?

God i can NOT get over Steve's pants. I mean I read a spoiler he was gonna be pregnant but I thought it was a prank or shitpost. I did not see this coming and I am never going to be over it. I love how he and Aja just roll with it and nobody else even cares. They've seen weirder stuff. So he's pregnant now. Whatever.

Jim's hand is bandaged and his ribs still hurt. I love that they're actually consistent with his injuries. I mean sucks for him but hell yeah for hero that doesn't always win!

Okayyy here comes the heartstone. Why not!

IS HE IN LABOR

So if you kiss an Akiridion 7 times you will have 3-5 babies in a few hours. How are they not overpopulated?? Also Aja couldn't have WARNED STEVE BEFOREHAND?

Eli is so supportive omfg

So uh where are the babies gonna come out of? I'm not into mpreg how does this usually work

OH STEVE THANKS FOR ASKING MY QUESTION

Oh good thing he happens to have 8 friends still alive. Otherwise this would've never worked. Nomura had to die otherwise there would've been 10 of them.

Why is everyone bowing to Jim? Did they rehearse this?

Stuart if you hadn't taken a bathroom break you would've thrown off the math and doomed the world. That was a poop of fate my man

Ahhh the signature quote. Where did Douxie and the Akiridions learn it? Did they rehearse this too? It's really cliché but I do like it tbh

If Strickler were dead we'd see more Barbara right?

WOOO BLINKY DRIVING

Ah Jim just used she/her for Bellroc! Finally we're learning some pronouns. I've been wondering this whole time.

MY VIRGIN EYES. WHAT IS GOING O N

How are they not dying with all this lava?

She really just yeeted Varvatos

Did Claire just tell AAARRRGGHH to jump off the titan and he did it without question

I want to say I like Stuart and want him to have more screentime, but I won't say it because I don't want him to die

Jim's poor ribs

Toby can drive yoooo

Tobyyy you're scaring meeeee

So did they really need the different stone or was the amulet just waiting for Jim to choose death over giving up

I saw the armor before but it looks VERY COOL

Also I didn't mention this before but I love that they cut Merlin's name from the incantation. Good for them.

Toby you lost your helmet noooo

For real tho I'm terrified for Toby rn. I saw a comment somewhere earlier that just said "Toby no" with no context and I am AFRAID

So do Bellroc's eyes work after all? I thought she was blinded back in Wizards in the past.

DID SHE JUST FUCKING STAB MY BOY

TOBY YOU SHOULD NOT BE THERE GET OUT THE TRUCK

Bellroc maybe screaming "i'm powerless" in front of your enemy isn't the best idea

She sploosh

DID JIM SURVIVE THAT FALL AND ALSO IS THE TACO TRUCK OKAY

How is he lifting Claire like that buddy you have bruised ribs and just got stabbed

ELI HI CAN WE SEE THE KIDS

SEVEN KIDS! AND ELI JR I LOVE IT

This show really loves to give people more than the recommended amount of babies with no warning huh

She immediately knows which one is Eli Jr 🥺 okay listen I'm not the biggest fan of comic relief sideplot surprise babies, but I have to admit they're cute. Cute couple. Throuple. Eli is in on this. He even has a Junior.

I TOLD YOU WHERE'S THE DAMN TACO TRUCK NANA WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU AND NEITHER WILL I

Oh yea he better fuckin be alive I will commit murder

HE BETTER FUCKIN BE ALIVE BITCH

FUCK YOU

THAT'S A WHOLE ASS CHILD HE ISN'T ALLOWED TO DIE IT'S ILLEGAL

JIM IS GONNA LOOK DOWN AT THE GREEN GLOWING BITCH AAARRRGGHH CONVENIENTLY THREW THERE AND SEE HIM ALIVE OR SOMETHING

YEAH USE THE SWORD TO UNDEAD HIM! THAT'S HOW YOU USE SWORDS!

Unbecoming Part 2

So is Jim just gonna Groundhog Day it until everyone is fine? There's only 13 minutes left we're gonna need a bigger movie

Also I screamed so much about everyone's death and now everyone reading this after they already saw the whole thing is gonna shame me for clowning huh

The scene where Blinky is giving his goodbye speech, there are no babies and Steve has a round belly? Did he reabsorb them?? I mean I know Jim is about to un-birth them but he hasn't started yet

JUST HOW FAR BACK IS HE PLANNING TO GO

WAIT HOLD UP EXCUSE ME WHAT

Oh they did NOT just do that. I though he was just gonna go back to like, the start of the movie maybe. Not all the way

Imagine being in your early twenties with as much trauma as this kid has and having to pretend you're 16 again

Somewhere Unkar is complaining because "oh sure NOW it's a good idea"

I know Jim is wondering where Toby is because he was there before. But before, he made an entire meatloaf AND did his homework before leaving the house, so honey maybe wait a minute

For a second I thought Toby wasn't gonna be there and Jim would return to the right time. But there he is!

Alright so they're in school now, did they take the canal and just didn't mention the amulet on screen or did they pass it as if the Unbecoming episode hadn't been that traumatizing? Jim you know what happens when you ignore it

Jim maybe you're being too obvious here lmao

Soooo. Anyway. These whole past years I've rewatched this show over and over and over again are cancelled now?

OKAY AT LEAST WE SAW NANA FOR A SPLIT SECOND THAT'S IRONIC TIMING

So we get the quote again. And Trollhunter Tobias is nice. Cool. Cool AU I mean, but I don't know. I don't knowwww. I've been way too invested in everything to just accept that it never happened?? So uh. Hm. How about this.

Strickler survived because fuck you, and Toby also survived and just has scars now. Maybe a wheelchair but he's fine, also he can use the Warhammer for super speed and make it awesome once he's used to it. Archie and Charlie get freed once they rebuild the bridge (and they were playing scrabble to pass the time). Nomura is still dead because she died on screen and I can't really deny that but she's with Draal so it's okay. Everyone is traumatized but they'll be fine. NotEnrique is still babysitting 500 babies and Steve is about to bring 7 more.

In summary, I reject Groundhog Day ending but everything else was great, as long as it actually happened. It was a good movie. But you can't just cancel years of passion. Having the prospect of a million "canon AUs" sounds great for writing but at the same time nooo you can't do that he didn't have to go back THAT far HHHHH

I liked the movie. It was a great watch and a satisfying end to a franchise, but I gotta say I do not fancy the ending of it so I will from now on be in denial. I honestly feel kind of betrayed that this show was my whole life for so long, I learned every smallest fact, and they basically deleted it from existence. I know what they were going for, I think, but no thank you I will be going with my own opinion. Still gonna rewatch it a few dozen times though ✌🏻

And that concludes my live commentary that was supposed to be a small handful of notes. Feel free to shame me for my opinions. See ya!

#rott spoilers #trollhunters #tales of arcadia #this got a LOT longer than expected #i'd be surprised if anyone actually read the whole thing but oh well #i just. have a LOT of opinions #i started out so optimistic too #mpreg mention #can't believe i have to use that tag on a post about canon

[thatfanficstuff]

That’s my Girl - Poe Dameron

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Warnings: nope. 

A/N: Flangst! It’s my fave. Enjoy. PS: I’m so happy to be writing again.

***

You had a reputation.

You wished you could say it was for something as exciting as sleeping around or being a trouble maker, but no. You had a reputation for being the best mechanic on base. Yep. You were the best at your job. How boring.

And, let’s be honest, all that really meant was more work for you. If no one else could find the problem, they got you to take a look at it. Did they care if you hadn’t had a day off in weeks? Or that you hadn’t strung together more than five hours of sleep at one time in the last two? Of course not. Not when the great and mighty Poe Dameron was complaining that his fighter was sluggish and none of them could find anything wrong.

You huffed out a breath in irritation. It wasn’t Poe you should be mad at. He wasn’t the one that woke you from a sound sleep to look at his ship. But you’d bet good money that he did more than hint that they should get you down to the hangar when they couldn’t fix the problem.

Something bumped against your leg startling you from your thoughts. You jerked in surprise causing your wrench to slip and you barked your knuckles. Damn it. That hurt. You sucked on the tender skin and glared down at BB-8. “What did I tell you about doing that?”

“Don’t be mad at him. He just gets excited to see you. Who can blame him?”

The smooth voice drew your attention and you snapped your gaze from the droid to his owner. Poe Dameron. He smiled as your gaze met his and your heart sped. Heat flooded your face and you cursed under your breath. Why did he always have this effect on you? Every single time you hated yourself for it and swore it would never happen again yet here you were.

“Dameron.” You turned back to your work doing your best to dismiss him. The sooner he left you alone the better. He was far too distracting.

“Y/L/N,” he responded in a mockingly serious tone. “Fix my ship?”

“Haven’t found anything wrong with her yet.”

“Yet. See, that’s why you’re my favorite. Everyone else just gives up.”

You grunted in disagreement. “They don’t give up. Not really. You just pick up on microscopic changes in your ship before they actually become a problem. Makes them harder to find. That’s all.” You knew some of the mechanics didn’t even bother trying to look beyond the obvious. They turned it over to you to do the hard work and walked away. But not all of them were like that and you didn’t like to listen to anyone besides you complain about it.

“But you always find the problem, Y/N. I swear some of the others think I make stuff up.”

You glanced at him to find him grinning at you and your traitorous heart threatened to skip a beat entirely. You quickly shifted your eyes back to the wiring you were now inspecting. “I’ve never known you to be wrong about your ship, Poe. I’ll find the problem.”

“That’s my girl,” he said in that sweet, smooth voice. And didn’t that do all sorts of things to your fragile pulmonary system. Damn the man. Before you could even think of a response, he disappeared, taking his droid with him.

***

“Are you still working on this stupid fighter?” Rey’s voice caught your attention and you looked up with a smile. You were currently sat on the floor of the hangar taking a break in the shadow of the ship.

“I’m nearly finished,” you assured her.

Her brows shot up in surprise. “You’ve found the problem then?”

You shook your head. “No, but I’m running out of places to look.” With that pronouncement you got back on your feet and climbed the ladder to the wiring you had exposed for your inspection.

Rey sighed and pulled over a nearby stool to sit on. “You’ve been at this for two days. Have you even slept?”  

“I caught a few hours.” And you had, but your brain wouldn’t let you rest for long when there was a problem to solve. So for the past two days you’d been mainlining caffeine and sleeping in short bursts before getting back to work. In fact, you’d just come back from a three-hour break to rest and eat. It was supposed to be a full eight hours, but you’d had an idea and couldn’t rest until you looked into it.

“That’s not healthy, Y/N, and you know it.”

You glanced at her. “You know how I am, Rey. I can’t help it.” You turned back to your work, separating the wires to inspect them individually. And then you found it. Finally.

For some reason one of the bolts on Poe’s seat had been replaced with one far longer than the original. The extra length was enough to have it rubbing against the wires in the compartment below. Undoubtedly the fluxuation in power Poe had complained about came from the bolt hitting the bare wire once the protective covering had been worn away. You had no idea who had replaced the bolt but once you looked back over the maintenance logs to find out, you were going to chew their ass. This was the kind of thing that could cause a system to short out during a flight. It was the kind of thing that killed pilots. The First Order did enough of that without the mechanics adding to the body count.

“Y/N—” Rey started and you cut her off.

“Give me a minute. I finally found the problem. Let me fix it and we can get out of here.” You slid down the ladder and dug through your tool box. A quick comparison of two bolts and a length of wire later and you were back in the access hatch under the fighter.

Now that you knew the problem, it was a quick matter to fix it. After one last check over the wiring to make sure only the one had been compromised, you grinned. “All fixed,” you announced as you sealed up the access hatch.

“I knew you could do it. This calls for a celebration with my favorite girl.”

You were surprised to hear Poe’s deep voice and were thankful your back was turned so you had a moment to compose yourself before facing him. Your heart was racing as your feet hit the floor and you turned to accept his invitation. Only Poe wasn’t looking at you. No, his focus was solely on the petite blonde under his arm. She giggled at his attentions and your heart dropped somewhere in the neighborhood of your stomach. Of course he wasn’t talking to you. You should have known better.

Your gaze shifted from them to Rey to find her looking at you with a face full of sympathy. Great. Just what you wanted. Her pity. You shook your head and sighed. Stepping around Poe and his date, you spoke to Rey as you walked by. “Let’s go get something to eat so I can get some sleep and you can get off my ass.”

She fell into step with you. “Don’t be pissy with me just because…”

You glanced over to see why she had trailed off. She was looking behind you with a frown. Before you could question why, a hand grasped your arm pulling you to a stop. You turned to find Poe standing behind you. “Seriously, Y/N. Thank you. You’re the best.”

You grunted in annoyance and gestured toward the woman trailing behind him with a lift of your chin. “Pretty sure that designation falls to her. Have a good day, Dameron.” You twisted your arm from his grasp and walked off, ignoring the weight of his stare on your back.

***

Three weeks passed. Three weeks in which you did your level best to ignore Poe Dameron. You monumentally failed, but you tried. Fortunately, things had been busy so you were never left without an excuse when he tried to engage you in conversation.

Currently, you sat at a table in the mess hall with one hand wrapped around a mug of coffee while the other picked at the plate of food Rey was making you eat. One of the squadrons had gotten into a firefight with some First Order assholes and you’d been busy patching holes in their ships for the last three days.

You grinned as she filled you in on the details of her and Finn’s date the day before.

“Fantastic,” she grumbled and rolled her eyes. “Incoming.”

Before you could ask what she meant, Poe dropped into the seat beside you. Rey made a face and you snickered as you broke off a piece of bread and popped it in your mouth.

“I just came from the hangar. Campbell told me he fixed my fighter.”

You gave Poe your attention, your brows arched in question. “And? It’s usually a good thing when your ship gets fixed isn’t it?”

The pilot frowned. “Yeah, when you fix it.”

You rolled your eyes. “In case you haven’t noticed, Dameron, I’ve got half of red squadron in for repairs right now. I don’t have time to be your personal mechanic.”

“I know you’re not my personal mechanic, Y/N, but I feel better when you look her over before I take her up again. I trust you.”

Your traitorous, traitorous heart sped up just a little. Damn it. You sighed and tore your gaze from his. “Flattery changes nothing, flyboy. I’m busy.”

“Can’t my girl find a little time for her favorite pilot?”

You didn’t even glance in his direction. Instead, you stood and grabbed the bread from your plate. “See you later, Rey.”

As you walked off you heard Rey behind you. “Sometimes, you’re a real asshole, you know that, Poe?”

“What did I do?”

***

Two days later you’d finally finished the repairs. You sat on the roof of the hangar with your feet dangling over the edge while you sipped from your flask. It wouldn’t be long before you headed to bed for some much needed sleep but for the moment you were simply enjoying a bit of peace as you watched the stars. It was late and most of the base was dark as people with much less work than you were already asleep.

Footsteps fell on the roof behind you and you didn’t so much as glance in that direction. You didn’t need to. Only one person ever bothered you when you came up here. Poe fucking Dameron.

He sat beside you and you passed him your flask. He took a drink and you smirked when he coughed as he returned it to you. “Are you trying to get drunk or strip paint?”

You shrugged. “Works for both. It’s particularly useful for cleaning engine parts.”

“I don’t know if you’re joking or not, but it wouldn’t surprise me if you weren’t. That’s disgusting.” Even as he said the words, he held out his hand for another drink.

You took one of your own before handing it back to him. “Grows on you, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. Like a fungus.” He took another swig then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He stared at the flask in his hand for a moment before stealing another drink.

You snatched it from him, causing some of the liquid to spill on him as a result. “Quit drinking all my liquor, Dameron.”

“Name’s Poe, Y/N.”

You lifted your brows but didn’t look at him. “Pretty sure your name is also Dameron, Dameron.”

“You have been avoiding me since you fixed my ship. And you haven’t once called me Poe. I don’t like it.”

“Don’t know what to tell you.”

He huffed a laugh. “How about you tell me what I did to piss you off? And how I can fix it. I miss you.”

You clenched your teeth and worked a muscle in your jaw. “If this is about your ship, you can stow it. I already looked it over. It’s fine.” You saluted him with your flask. “You’re welcome.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, Dameron, that you smile and flirt until you get what you want from me. Which, let’s be honest, is always fixing your ship. Once she’s back in fighting condition, you disappear until something else goes wrong.” You took another swallow of liquor. “I’ll save you the effort and tell you that you don’t have to sweet talk me into doing my job.”

“That’s not…okay, yeah maybe that’s fair. But in my defense you don’t make this easy, you know?”

You laughed and shook your head in disbelief. “What exactly is it that I make so difficult for you?”

“Liking you, okay?” He muttered to himself and ran a hand down his face when you didn’t immediately respond.

Realizing you were staring, you tore your gaze away and cleared your throat. “Liking me as in I’m a horrible person and there is nothing likable about me?”

He laughed. “No. Liking you as in you’re amazing and I’m just another flyboy.”

You cringed as you remembered calling him exactly that the last time you’d talked to him. “I’m just a mechanic, Poe. Pretty sure the Resistance would crumble without their best pilot.”

He shook his head. “You underestimate your value. To me and the Resistance.”

“I didn’t think you saw me as anything special.” The confession hurt so the words were quieter than you’d intended.

“Rey was right. I am an asshole if you believe that.”

“Not going to argue with you, Dameron.”

“Hey now. That’s not fair,” he protested.

You shrugged. “You only talk to me if you want something. Forgive me if I find it difficult to believe you see me as anything other than a mechanic.”

He sighed. “I can talk to you about my ship. I can talk to you about flying and fighting and know that you won’t think I’m an idiot. I know about all that stuff.”

“Do you remember the first time I fixed your ship?” you asked.

He frowned but nodded. “Yeah. What about it?”

“You took it out the next day. When you came back, I was arguing with Roberts about something and you interrupted. Told him to quit giving your girl a hard time. When I looked over, you just gave me a grin and a wink before walking off. I was smitten from that moment on. Stupid.”

“Y/N, I—”

“Let me finish,” you interrupted. “’My girl.’ That’s what you call me. And every time it melts my heart. Gives me a minute where I can pretend maybe it’s real. Then I heard you call Victoria that. And Shelly. And some blonde I didn’t recognize. And every time it hurts. Which is stupid, you know, because I’d never had any indication those words meant to you what they meant to me.” You sighed as you pushed yourself to your feet. “I expected something from you that you’d never promised me. That’s on me, not you. I’ll get over it.”

You were half way to the ladder when Poe grabbed your wrist and pulled you to a stop before releasing his grip. “Wait. Can we just start over?”

This was stupid but you found yourself unwilling to disappoint him. You turned to face him, extending a hand. “Y/N Y/L/N. Head mechanic. Nice to meet you.”

Poe shook your hand. “Poe Dameron. Pilot.” Instead of releasing you, he tugged you closer until there was little more than a breath between you. His eyes ran over your face and a small smile curled his lips. “I think you’re brilliant and beautiful and amazing and I’d love it if you’d be my girl.”

Your heart raced as you licked your suddenly dry lips. “Don’t you think you’re moving a little fast? After all, we just met.”

He narrowed his gaze and pulled you closer before wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you to him. “Be my girl, Y/N.” His lips brushed yours as he spoke but he stopped short of actually kissing you.

You leaned into him and moved your lips over his in answer. Your hands fisted in his shirt to keep him close as you kissed. When you separated, you sucked in a breath and smiled. “Finally.”

His answering grin lit his whole face. “Finally.” Then he dipped his head for another kiss.

As the night wore on, he walked you to your room. And when the two of you couldn’t separate long enough to say goodnight, he followed you inside. You slept in his arms and woke to sweet kisses and lazy smiles.

And when he talked you into staying in bed instead of heading into work on your day off, he rewarded you by pulling you closer. “That’s my girl.”

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron imagine #star wars imagine #star wars fanfiction #poe dameron x you

[the-record]

Love at First Sight

Hey! This is my first fic so please don't come at me for the absolutely horribleness of it bc I suck at writing. (Also if you notice mistaken in the beginning its bc I’m writing on my phone bc I’m to lazy to get my laptop)

Category: FLUFF ABSOLUTE FLUFF

Warnings: None (In this part.)

Spencer Reid x Fem! reader

A/N: Hey! This is a totally fluff slow burn. There will be multiple parts bc I suck that way. Enjoy!

Part 2

You stop right outside the doors, an old gym bag and a cardboard box in hand. You were totally qualified for this job, a masters in criminal psychology and a PhD in forensic science. Not to mention your IQ of 185 and photographic, more properly eidetic, memory. Yet as you stood outside the glass doors of the bullpen, your heart was racing and you felt like you were going to pass out. As you were about to open the doors you hear a voice and a hand grabs it for you.

"Hey, careful there, might drop you stuff." You look up to see a tall, dark, muscular man staring down at you. You smile at him and nod.

"Thanks." He nods as you walk through the doors. "Hey, do you know where Agent Hotchners office is?" You turn around to face him as you ask your question.

"You must be Emily's replacement. Just up the stairs, his door is open. Good luck." As you flash your smile as a thank you, he turns away to his desk and you walk up the stairs, knocking at the door in front of you.

"Come in." As he looks up at you, he shows a slight smile but not much. "Ah, SSA Y/L/N. Please sit down, you can put your stuff on the floor next to you." You set the box and bag inches away from the chair that you sit in. "Now, normally I would brief you on the job, but as you worked in the New York office before and we have a case, that will have to be put on hold. Welcome to the team, you will fit in nicely." You smile at him as he stands up to lead you to where they would brief the case.

You have finally started to calm down, but as you walk through the whole team stares at you, apart from a man sitting reading a book.

"Good morning, sorry for the early start. This is SSA Y/N Y/L/N. She will be starting today." As you bite on you cheek a kind voice speaks up.

"Hi, I'm Jennifer but you can call we JJ. Welcome to the team." She gives you a warm welcoming smile and you return with yours.

"Derek Morgan." It's the man who opened the door for me just minutes ago. "Good to put a name to a face." Your smile doesn't fade, you feel welcomed for once, and thankfully it's not a boys club.

"David Rossi." You look up excited at the man introducing himself.

"Wait, really? I have read your books, you are a great writer." He chuckles as you look at him, remembering the lines from his book.

Before he can say anything else a peppy, bright colored women steps in. "Well hello! You must be Y/N. Good to meet you! I'm Penelope Garcia but you can really call me whatever. I think you will make wonder boy over there have a run for his money." You look at her confused. "Sorry dear, I may have read up on you, I do it for every new addition to our team. You laugh a little as she says this.

"Baby girl, what do you mean by Reid is gonna have a run for is money?" She looks at him.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you guys. Y/N over here is incredibly smart. What an IQ of 185 and eidetic memory? And I think it said you can read 16,000 words per minute, right?" You smile and nod. You have always been very proud of your gifts but never boasted about them, that's unkind.

"Well well well pretty boy," The man reading the book finally looks up as Derek ruffles his hair. "Looks like you might need to move aside as resident genius. Go ahead, tell the girl about yourself." He looks up at you. You try not to blush as he looks at you, the most handsome man you have ever seen.

"Uh hi. I'm Dr. Reid. Spencer. I have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words per minute." You two are so alike but so different. Your talents are similar but your personalities are definitely different. He barely looks up from his book and speaks softly, while you look people in the eyes when talking and are a loud talker, something you need to work on.

"Well, I guess you guys are right. Watch out Dr. Reid, I might just steal the spotlight." In his eyes you did that the moment you walked in. He had looked up for a moment but got shy when he saw you. And when he heard how Penelope had spoke of you, he could barely contain a smile.

"Ok, Garcia go ahead." You sit down next to JJ as she points to the empty seat next to her.

"Portland Oregon. A dj name Jay Johnson was on his way home after leaving the club. He was cutting through an alley when bludgeoned by a club. He was stabbed 31 times and his watch, cell, and computer were stolen. That was 2 days ago." As she continues you read the case file in front of you, quickly getting in all the details.

"Early this morning a Karen Heywood a 30 year old nurse, she died during a home invasion being stabbed 40 times after being bludgeoned by weapons of opportunity." You look at her.

"The file says that there were 8 weapons."

"So we are looking for a group?" Rossi speaks up.

"Most likely, we only have 9 hours until night fall. We can discuss more on the jet. Wheels up in 10." You stand up as Hotch finishes talking. JJ grabs your arm.

"Hey, slow down. Sit." You look at her confused and slowly sit down. "I saw you blushing at Reid." Your jaw drops as she says this.

"I was not!" She looks at you brows raised and smiling.

"Don't even deny it. I saw it with my own eyes, but be warned, Derek and Garcia will make fun of you if you don't stop being so obvious about it." I smile and walk away to go get my stuff only to see Derek carrying it to a desk.

"Oh. Thanks." He smiles at you.

"No problem kid." You grab your bag and head to the jet following the rest.

***

After Hotch finishes and we are all left to do what we want I go to sit by Spencer noticing the book he is reading. "Do you like Arthur Conan Doyle?" He is reading 'The Narrative of John Smith' a classic.

"Hm? Oh, uh yeah. You know his books?" You smile and nod.

"I love them. My favorite writings of his are the Sherlock Holmes ones, I'm a kid at heart, what can I say." He laughs a little closing his book. "Oh I didn't mean to interrupt you. You can keep reading. I was actually going to come over and read too I just-" He stops you talking.

"No, no you're fine. I was just finishing it anyways." You smile at him, your face starting to burn. "I was going to get some coffee, do you want anything?" You nod.

"A green tea would be nice."

"You know green tea is really beneficial. It helps improve brain function, helps prevent cancers and type 2 diabetes, can help with weight loss, sorry. I tend to ramble." You smile at him.

"No, don't worry. I do the same. Continue. Please." He smiles and continues but you don't listen. You're to busy looking at his features. Beautiful honey gold eyes that could put you in a trance. His hair was wavy but well kept. His cheek bones and jaw were strong. All you could think about was him.

"Y/N?" Oh shit, you had been practically ignoring him. "Are you ok?" You nod.

"Yeah sorry, just spaced off." He lost his smile. "Oh, Spen- Dr. Reid, it's not you. I just tend to space off a lot, ask any of my friends and family." His smile came back to his face. It's your favorite thing about him.

"I will got get you that tea. Honey?" You nod.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg

[scriptaed]

his side, her side | 8:15 P.M.

genre: angst/fluff/implied smut; 

pairing: reader x jungkook;

length: 3.3k;

synopsis: a collective snapshots in time shared between two, whose fates were undeniably intertwined and futures would never come to be.

a/n: this is not a chronological series; more so, his side her side is a collection of drabbles in which each drabble helps paint the overall picture. each drabble can be read separately without having read the others. // alternatively: his side, her side pt. 8;

his side;

And so the ten minute stroll began… perhaps it’s the flush of relief after work that elevates the euphoric chill of fall against the diminishing tension in his muscles, or perhaps it’s the thought of finally having some down time to actually converse with this girl of a partner that has Jungkook afloat in cloud-nine—an addictive high of which only the gym could provide him and has him yearning for more. Jungkook’s time together with the girl was short and, realistically, their total time spent together outside of workshop would sum to a mere two hours or three, but there’s always been something about that dainty appearance and the contradictory boyish habits of hers that piqued an interest in Jungkook. Plus, living on the edge in a constant battle against time is just his style and it just so happens that tonight, more than ever, he’s willing to take this challenge and seize these ten minutes. 

“So—”

—the two partners turn to stare at each other after an unintended moment of synchrony. The girl, much more flustered than the other, flickers her widened gaze elsewhere, which only amuses Jungkook and his cracked, half-crooked grin all the more. 

“What?” Y/N asks sheepishly, peeking at the boy’s stare but only for a split second. 

“What?” Jungkook mimics all too nonchalantly with the quirk of a head.

A baffled laugh befalls her as she repeats, “what? What were you gonna say?”

“Nothing,” he purses his lips and shakes his head, crossing his bare arms over his tank, “what were you gonna say?”

“I… don’t know,” Jungkook watches her intently as she giggles nervously, “I don’t remember anymore because of you!”

“What?” he feigns innocence intermixed with offence. “Me?” 

But the thing is, Jungkook knows exactly what he had retracted from the space of her mind… nothing. Like him, his partner wasn’t asking for anything specific or dire because it turns out he isn’t the only one trying to fill the void in between the lines after all—and that, oddly enough to him, assures whatever anxiety he has pent up in his chest right this moment. 

And if all these subtle moments of Jungkooks’ observations amounted to anything, whether it be from the past, from afar, or even from the moment since they first collaborated, Y/N would ask him something related to work just to fill the silence. 

“Could you send me the info from workshop later tonight?”

Ah, Jungkook's internal snidish remark manifests in an outward smirk, just as predicted. 

“Why tonight?” Jungkook asks, running a hand through his hair. “It’s a Friday night. Shouldn’t you be out having fun?”

“Like what? Party?” her lips curl into a snarl. “You think I’m the type to get wasted and abandon all her responsibilities?” 

“Yeah, kind of,” Jungkook only shrugs with a smuggish grin overlooking the glare that Y/N shoots him; and even as she continues to quirk a brow at the boy, waiting for further elaboration, Jungkook turns away with anything but so. Why? Well, she never asked for one. Plus, something about teasing her, and particularly her, entertains his equally uneventful Friday nights. “So you’re not the type to drink?”

“Nope, I’m a pretty light drinker. Kind of sucks when every game is designed against your advantage,” Y/N smiles at the way her joke elicits a chuckle from Jungkook—not that he would notice—and she continues, “what about you? Do you drink?”

The boy peers down at his curious partner, muttering a short, “no.” 

“Really?” 

Something about the utter perk in her voice catches Jungkook off guard. Sure, he isn’t exactly on top of his life like she was, but does something about his appearance seem like every other boy on the market? In fact, being cramped in a house with an occupancy limit many folds less than the number of party attendees is a thought made of Jungkook’s worst nightmares. 

“No,” he shakes his head and prims, “can’t drink for the life of me. It’s gross.”

“Whaat? I’m surprised,” she stares at him bewilderingly, rendering a frown from Jungkook.

“Why?” 

“Well, you look kind of like a...” she takes a gander of him up and down, one of which Jungkook’s usually uninterested eyes can’t help but follow, “...nevermind.”

“Like a what?” his frown deepens because her comments regarding his appearance incites an irking curiosity in this typically unbothered boy. 

“Nothing,” she insists, laughing a bit too hard as Jungkook just watches helplessly. 

Well, it’s not like Jungkook really minds sacrificing the already ditzy impression he had made on his partner. A few of her teases here or there are harmless against his unperturbed conscience and if it brings joy to his rather guarded partner, he’s more than willing to knock himself off the pedestal. Just as a subtle grin leaks its way into his unfazed lips, a loud grumble reverberates from the depths of his stomach. Instinctively, Jungkook reaches into the pockets of his gym shorts only to be welcomed by the absence of his wallet and a loud groan from his throat. 

“What?” Y/N cocks a brow at the hungry boy. “You forgot your wallet again?” 

“It’s fine,” he hurriedly answers, recalling the financial burden he had once been to his partner when she last spotted him, “I’ll skip gym today and head home—”

“—no!” she abruptly cuts him off, her urgency surprising the both of them. “I mean, I can pay for you tonight. Just pay me back some other day.”

“No, you treated me last time.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.”

“You’re my partner.”

“So?”

“So it’s fine for me to spot you once in a while.”

“I’m not your boyfriend.”

“What—”

—time seems to come to a stop when a cold breeze intervenes the friendly banter and Jungkook can’t help but notice the shivers down his spine as he watches the glow of the street lights reflect from her eyes; and as if in slow motion, he watches her locks twirl in the autumn night air, too enamored and too enraptured to explain the sparks that befall the bedazzled night sky. If he isn’t careful, the windows to his soul would have given him and his facade of solidarity away. 

Is it something he said? Was his last remark a bit too kin given their business relations? Enveloped in his spiraled state of mind, he fails to notice the entrance of an unfamiliar man who repeats the very words that froze time in two, “who’s not your boyfriend?”

“You,” Jungkook’s eyes dart to find Y/N rolling her own, “what’re you doing here, Jimin?”

“Why can’t I visit the gym? This is a public space, is it not?” the boy Jungkook figures to be Jimin retorts. 

The banter seems to transition from the bubble he once shared with Y/N to the space between the new man and her. Time never seems to look back when Jungkook’s partner spares the remainder of her attention on the other man, as Jungkook watches silently on the sidelines. Sure, Y/N had many more peers than those in his own circle of friends and he even knew of her popularity amongst his coworkers, particularly the lovestruck and unfortunately rejected Taehyung, but Jungkook was never quite aware of how well acquainted Y/N must be with the boys. 

And it’s not like he’s particularly bothered by that fact more than intrigued, but, this time, Jimin’s unwelcome interruption and Y/N’s lack of attention pushes his buttons in all the wrong ways.

Silently pivoting on the balls of his heels and walking off down the sidewalk and away from the newly formed pair, Jungkook stuffs his hands into his pockets and takes special caution to the incoherent grumbles that almost slip past his pressed lips. Now that his plans for dinner is gone and his ephemeral conversation with his partner is cut short, he persists on a trek toward his car parked just a block from the bridge to Y/N’s apartment. 

The spot by his elbow once linked to her’s is particularly empty on his walk down the sidewalk. It isn’t as if he had been abandoned, for he was the one who had left her, but the change in the night’s temperature is a drastic drop from moments prior. Primming his lips and crossing his arms against his puffed chest, he nearly sighs in an unexplained motion of disappointment when something perks his ears. 

“Jungkook!” 

The boy turns around to find the very person he never would have known to be the subject of his mind until he heard her calls. The blank stare and the quirk of his brow could not conceal the skip in his chest when he catches sight of his partner jogging toward his direction, alone. 

“Why didn’t you wait for me?” she bends over with her hands on her knees, struggling to catch her breath. 

Jungkook mumbles through barely parted lips, wondering if he’s just hallucinating, “didn’t want to interrupt you and your boy.” 

“And what do you mean by that?” she peers up with narrowed eyes. 

“Can’t ruin your shot at getting cuffed,” he shrugs, smirking to stifle the wide grin he almost adorned instead when Y/N gawks at him. 

“He’s just an acquaintance that I happen to know.”

“And why did you abandon this acquaintance?” 

“Because I was making plans with a certain friend before he came along.” 

“A friend?” Jungkook articulates with wide eyes, searching off into the distance for said ‘friend’ and observing the twisted look Y/N gives him in response. He points at himself in surprise, “oh, you mean me? We’re friends?”

“Okay, fine,” she blurts, frowning at him. “I meant partners. Colleagues. Whatever. Regardless, you’re not supposed to ditch me.”

Intently observing his partner for the next few seconds, even a dense man like Jungkook could not ignore the sharp jab at his chest and its aching wake that is left behind. It isn’t the pout that she gives him or the crossed arms of a livid woman that gets him but the genuine look of hurt hidden behind her mask of indifference that has him softening up with guilt; and as if swept by the spur of the seemingly whimsical night, Jungkook wraps an arm over her shoulder and pulls her into his side. 

“Okay, let’s grab some dinner then, partner. Oh, and, remember,” he pulls her frame in closer and leans into her ear to mutter, “you’re my partner only.”

-

her side;

Fuckboy. 

That’s exactly what this boy standing beside you in the cafeteria reminds you of, so it shouldn’t be much of a surprise that you would have assumed his entire personality revolves around parties and alcohol; when his denial comes to light just an hour prior, however, you’re taken aback by your odd attraction to his unexpected personality that starkly contrasts his demeanor. For someone to be this attractive—jawline chiseled, soft lips crafted for the perfect kisses, swooped hair perfectly parted to the side, and stature built like the dream of any boys’—to not succumb to his own ego and the praises of his peers, there’s something immensely commendable about that. 

You hate to admit it, but this must be the first time you’re really accepting your friend’s previous comment on his utterly attractive traits. 

“Have you seen this meme of Ellen Musk?” you swipe open your phone in an effort to gauge his true persona. 

“You mean Elon Musk?” Jungkook corrects, and when you look up to reveal that panicking wide-eyed look of yours, you find him adorning an equally, if not more, giddy smile from ear to ear—and in that very moment, a sudden rush of blood brings an unbearable heat to your ears and gradually to your cheeks. Your heart races, each pump proclaiming to fracture your walls open, and you can’t help but persist to stare at him dumbfoundedly because you just don’t think you’ve ever seen him wear a more befitting smile than now—wide, cheeky, and ditzy, even, unlike the collected self he carries himself to be. 

“Yeah, whatever,” you barely manage to utter through your upturned lips, “same thing.”

“Right,” he says but the outstretched grin of his tells you his source of entertainment is going nowhere… a fact that you hold an odd sense of pride in. 

Knocked off your initial A-game, you get right back into your meticulous plan. You scroll through your chat with a particular male friend, whose profile picture you were sure was easy to identify, out in the open for Jungkook to see. Surprisingly enough, this Ellen Musk meme of yours manages to pique this rarely intrigued interest of Jungkook’s as he looks over your shoulder to join you in your search. 

Would he notice? Would he even care who you’re chatting with? 

“Who’s ‘Blocked’?” he asks and you turn to find him staring at you with those unreadable eyes of his. 

It takes every ounce of wariness in you not to grin jubilantly, because if he notices the nickname you had set for your friend, then that must mean he cares enough to check the name of whomever you’re chatting with… it’s not as if it means he likes you or that you like Jungkook enough to yearn for his attention, but being able to elicit the most subtle of reactions from a rather apathetic man like Jungkook is considered a victory to you. 

“Just,” you shrug, “a friend. Oh, look, here.”

Honestly, the meme isn’t exactly the most applicable to your conversations with Jungkook. Elon Musk and his interest in anime, which somehow implies that every anime fan is another sad computer nerd who has yet to pop their cherry, has absolutely nothing to do with work or music tastes or anything that you two have shared with one another. In fact, you’re not even sure if Jungkook is aware of what anime is or if he’s even comfortable enough with you to discuss the topic of sexual intimacy; but if there’s one thing you’ve discovered since you’ve developed an interest in this solitary man, it’s the undeniable desperation to scrape at anything for a conversation starter. 

“So,” he finally speaks after staring at the screen for a long second, the crooked grin that creeps onto his lips only slamming the gas pedal to your pulse, “you’re into that weeb shit, aren’t you?”

“What?” you gawk, peeping a weak, “no… but are you?”

“No,” he shakes his head, chuckling as he raises a brow at you, “but it’s okay if you are. I don’t judge.”

And it’s true. As much as he resembles those judgemental playboys you’ve had the unfortunate opportunity to cross paths with, you know Jungkook isn’t anything like them. He probably wouldn’t judge you and he probably wouldn’t even remember this insignificant fact about you come next week, but that doesn’t mean you want to be seen as an innocent, dainty nerd cooped up at home. 

Not that it’s a bad thing because that’s exactly what you are. 

Him and his lack of anime knowledge, on the other hand, is less than surprising. In fact, you wouldn’t even bat an eye if this man were to have gotten around with the ladies on several one night stands or two. He has the devilish charms and anyone who has the chance to sleep with him must have been an equally admirable beauty. 

“I’m not,” you lie with a wide grin that says otherwise, “I swear.”

“You sure, Y/N?” he reciprocates your upturned lips with an element of tease sprinkled on top. “I’d accept you either way.” 

“Okay, well, if you’re not a weeb, then you must be implying that you’re quite experienced yourself?” you declare with your chin held high until a look of horror for overstepping into the T.M.I. territory dawns upon you when he backs up only to challenge you with that smuggish stare of his that tells you all you need to know. “F-forget—”

“—one double cheeseburger with fries on the side,” the cafeteria lady calls out, as if to your aid, and you hastily shuffle to the cashier. “Anything for you, ma’am?” 

“No, I’m good. I’m just paying for him,” you smile in response, rummaging through your purse and swearing that you had certainly grabbed your wallet this morning. You could practically feel Jungkook staring over your shoulder and into the abyss that is your mess of a purse, each tick of the clock shooting your anxiety at an all time high until you turn to shoo Jungkook away. “You can grab some utensils and head off first. I’ll join you later.” 

Nothing you’ve been saying and feeling ever align nowadays; because here you are, suggesting for him to depart only to feel the sink of your heavy heart when he grabs his plate of food and does exactly as you advise him to. Not only were you easily let off by the man you were spotting for, but you were also struggling to find your wallet to pull through with said favor. You must have seemed pitiful to the lady who pays witness to the sullen look that befalls your face. 

“Is that lovely gentleman yours?” she asks when you fumble with your card and you look up to finally recognize her as one of the chattiest workers in your company’s cafeteria. 

“Oh,” you shake your head,” no. He’s just my colleague.” 

“Well, if you’re interested in him, it’s best not to keep him waiting,” she remarks, tilting her head in the direction where Jungkook had left when you answer her with a confused silence. 

“Wh—”

“—Y/NNNN,” he drawls, calling out to you with his hands occupied with a plate in one and two forks in the other, “let’s go.” 

“I did tell him to go first, didn’t I?” you subconsciously utter aloud to yourself.

“You did, but you certainly didn’t mean it, did you?” she roars into laughter. “He’s not too bad of a man, himself. You two would make a good pair.” 

“...right,” you mutter until you realize what you had said, turning to blurt, “wait, we aren’t dating—”

“—Y/NNNN,” Jungkook calls out once again. 

The boy who had no qualms with abandoning you when you bumped into Jimin is now waiting for you to return to his side, even if he has no obligation nor patience to. Something about the way he drawls, the way he calls out to you impatiently but still remaining fixated to the side of the cafeteria where he awaits your return, has you elated and reminiscing for many more nights to come. 

“Okay, okay!” you can’t help but cackle, grabbing your wallet and running off to join him at the other side of the room; and when you finally join him by the rightful spot beside his right elbow, the two of you begin your stroll through the streets by the bridge of your apartment. “I told you you could leave first—”

“—want some?” he asks, even though he’s already stuffed a piece of french fry into your mouth. 

“No,” you frown, even as you chew away, “I’m not supposed to be eating so late.”

“Why? You on a diet?” 

“Yeah,” you purse your lips ashamedly, “I’ve been eating too much.” 

“I can tell,” he says after taking a gander at you up and down, chuckling when you gawk at him in full offence. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” 

“Yeah, sure,” you cross your arms over your puffed chest, “whatever.”

“Oh c’mon,” he chuckles when you give him the silent treatment, “...Y/NNNN.”

Damn it. There must be something about the way he calls out your name that weakens you to your core, because there’s nothing you could do about the grin that cracks your frown...

“Y/N…” he nudges you with his elbow, skin grazing against yours, “you want some more?”

“...maybe.”

...and in retrospect, months later down the road, there’s nothing you could wish for more than for him to call out to you like he did on this very night. 

#bts x reader #bts x you #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts scenarios #bts imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagines #bangtan imagines #bangtan au #bts series #bts fanfic #bangtan fanfic #scriptaed

[portals-to-a-new-world]

Ignorance is Bliss (Parts 1&2)

(gif credit to @urban-trek-thru-middle-earth)

Who?: Billy Butcher x Reader

What?: Y/n discovers that Butcher sleeps in the nude

Word Count: 1820

Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT 18+!!!, Language (as I mentioned in the original, if you watch the boys you know the man has a mouth fouler than the pits of hell itself), ONCE AGAIN SMUT

A/N: Hey yall! Sorry it’s been taking me so long to get stuff out but work has been kicking my ass. Anyway, if you didn’t see the original post, this was inspired by a post I saw reminding the world that Butcher sleeps a la naked. Thank you very much to @bakerstreethound for everything she does 💜💜💜

You were tired. 8 hours on the road, chasing down a lead that turned out to be yet another dead end, and you just wanted a hot shower and sleep. Preferably in that order. You sighed in relief as you pulled into the cheap Motel the boys had been staying at. At least it didn’t look as seedy as the last place you’d stayed in. Ever since Vought caught onto the plan to bring them down, you’d been staying at a different location each week to keep them off of your scent. You grabbed the bag you kept packed from the backseat and headed towards your room. It took you a few moments of fumbling around in the bag before you pulled out the key card and swiped it through the reader. Your brow furrowed as nothing happened. You tried it one more time before you remembered that Butcher gave you the spare card to his room, just in case. You groaned and felt around your bag until you found the right card, breathing out a sigh as it worked. You didn’t bother turning the lights on until you reached the bathroom, wanting to shower and fall into bed as quickly as possible. Another groan escaped you as you began to strip down, muscles stiff from driving all day. As you reached out to turn on the shower, a voice sounded out behind you.

“Don’t let me stop you, luv, coz this is a great fucking view,” You screamed and dove for a towel as the deep voice that could only belong to Butcher continued. “But what the fuck are you doing?”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I-” The words fell dead at the sight that greeted you when you looked up. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, smirk out in full force as you were confronted with the knowledge that Billy Butcher, hunter of superheroes and badass vigilante, apparently sleeps in the nude. Your eyes trailed down his chest, following the lines of muscles, man those shirts he wore hid just how cut he was, to the sheet draped across his lap. You swallowed hard, wrapping the towel tighter around yourself before you continued. “I guess I mixed up the room numbers. It’s really been one of those days.” You said, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. Of course, this would happen. Almost get your cover blown by an ex who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? Check. Waste an entire day on some bullshit conspiracy theorist pretending to have evidence about Compound V? Check. Walk in on the man who’d been invading your dreams ever since you first met? Bonus, he’s naked!

“I take it the lead was a crock o’ shite, then?” You couldn’t help but laugh.

“That is the understatement of the fucking century,” You said, moving to sit down before you remembered you were clad in only a towel. The thought of having to change back into clothes and go all the way back to your actual room almost had you in tears. “Do you uh- do you mind if I borrow your shower? I’d use mine, but I don’t think I’ll make it that far without my back seizing up.”

“Sure, one condition tho,” He said, cocking his head to one side before standing to his feet. Your breath caught in your throat as you fought to keep your eyes locked on his. You stepped back with each step he took closer until he had you backed against the counter.

“What’s that?” You managed to choke out.

“You let me join ya, and make up for sendin’ ya on that wild goose chase,” His words sent heat flaring straight through your core, and you nearly moaned when his hand began to toy with the skin just beneath the edge of your towel. “Can’t promise you’ll be any less sore after tho.”

“Butcher-” Your words were once again cut off with a gasp, this time by him grinding his hips against you. Your towel did nothing to conceal just how thick and hard he was, and you could only hope it hid just how embarrassingly wet you were. You shook your head to try and clear your thoughts. “Where’s this coming from?”

“Oh, c’mon now luv. We’ve been dancing ‘round each other for fuckin ages now,” He leaned in closer as he spoke. You shook your head slowly as his lips drew nearer.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t-”

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I can’t see you. Fuckin diabolical,” His hand came up to grip your jaw, not quite low enough to choke you but enough to make you inhale sharply. “Like you wanna fuckin eat me alive.” By then, his lips were ghosting yours, sending shivers down your spine. Fuck it

“You gonna let me? Eat you alive?” You asked. His resulting smirk gave you the only answer you needed before your lips slammed together hungrily. Butcher wasted no time in yanking the towel from your form. His hands immediately found your breasts, palming and kneading the soft flesh as you gasped against his lips. He took full advantage of the opening to dominate your tongue with his own, not that you didn’t put up a fight in the process. Like everything with Butcher, the kiss was rough and intense. He nearly had you in a puddle at his feet, and he’d barely gotten started. The thought sparked a new wave of defiance in you, and you thrust your hands into his surprisingly soft hair and tugged sharply as you bit at his lip. He growled in response, and his hand came down harshly on your ass. “Ow! You bastard-” Your scolding was cut off, though, as his fingers dipped between your legs. He hummed in satisfaction at the slickness he found, his trademark smirk once again gracing his lips.

“Call me a bastard all you want; you’re still soaking wet for me.” He didn’t give you a chance to snark back, thrusting two fingers deep inside you as he began to nip and suck down your neck. Your arm wrapped around his shoulder for support as your legs threatened to give out. He caught on and wrapped an arm around your waist as his other hand began to pick up its pace. His thumb moved to stroke your clit right as he curled his fingers perfectly, and you moaned his name loudly. “See now that’s what I want to hear.” You groaned and threw your head back.

“Oh, fuck off,” You said. Suddenly his hands were gone, and you whined at the loss of contact as he backed away. “Butcher?”

“You told me to fuck off.” He said with a shrug before lifting his hand and popping his fingers in his mouth. He grinned and turned to walk into the bathroom as you stammered.

“Damn it, Butcher, you know that’s not what I meant!” You stomped into the bathroom after him, but he continued to ignore you as he stepped into the shower.

“Fuckin’ hell, why’s the water so fuckin hot?” You rolled your eyes and stepped in after him, faltering slightly at the sight of him dripping wet before you. He might be psychotic, but damn if the man wasn’t good looking. “There you go again with that look,” He said, drawing your eyes back to his. This time his smirk was paired with almost predatory eyes, dark and hungering as he stalked towards you in the small space. You licked your lips and shrugged. You started to reply, but you never got the chance before he was lifting you up and pinning you against the wall. You squealed and latched onto him, ignoring his amused chuckles. “’ Fraid I’m gonna drop you?” He murmured against the skin beneath your ear. You shuddered slightly at the sensation before you responded.

“Nah, just making sure you can’t walk away from me again.” He laughed, a genuine laugh that made your heart skip a beat, before moving to bury himself to the hilt within you. You both moaned at the feeling, and he paused for a moment, both to savor it and give you time to adjust to his size. He pulled back from your neck to look you in the eyes as he started to move in slow, deep, thrusts that had you biting your lip in an effort to keep quiet. His gaze was powerful and intoxicating, drawing you in like an invisible magnet. Every wave of pleasure that crossed his face added to your own, and you finally had to break away and bury your face in his neck as he pounded straight through you. You were dancing along the brink of your climax, but you still needed more. “Butcher I-” He seemed to know exactly what you were asking before you could ask.

“I’ve gotcha, luv.” He slipped out of you and set you on your feet before spinning you around. “Fuck me, what an ass, this is.” He said offhandedly as he bent you forward slightly before sliding back in. You groaned and fell forward to brace yourself against the wall as this new angle brushed against all new spots inside of you. His hands moved back up to your throat, putting enough pressure to force you to arch your back, and down to rub harshly at your clit as he knocked you up the wall. “You gonna fucking come for me?” He growled in your ear as your moans echoed around the small bathroom. “Hmm? Gonna come all over this fuckin cock like a good girl?” His words were the final shove you needed before you were falling over the edge with a shout of his name. “Fuckin hell, (Y/N/N)” He groaned as he pulled out and came all over your back. You both stood there for a while, just catching your breath before he reached around and grabbed a washcloth to wipe you clean. At your raised eyebrow, he paused and shrugged in question. “Wot? I’m not a complete asshole.” You huffed out a laugh and gave him a pat on the chest.

“Never said you were.” He gave you a skeptical look before pulling you back underneath the spray.

“C’mon. Let’s get clean before the hot water runs out. Then we can discuss your sleeping arrangements.” He said. Once again, you raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“My sleeping arrangements? What about them?” He reached around you to grab the soap before replying.

“Well, figured you since you didn’t want to go back to your room, you could sleep here, but it’s gonna cost you.” Mischief danced in his eyes, and you couldn’t stop the smirk on your lips.

“I’m sure I’ll think of some way to repay you.” You said as he grinned.

“Atta fucking girl.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tag List (Let me know if you’d like to be added/removed or if I forgot you):

@bakerstreethound​ @im-like-reallythirsty​ @rayray1463​ @waaaaaaitwhat​ @fairytale07​ @becs-bunker​ @kid-from-new-zealand​ @mblaqgi​

#billy butcher x reader #smut

[sylvanfreckles]

Don’t Look (FebuWhump 23)

Fandom: Supernatural Summary: Sam and Dean are ambushed and captured by a powerful demon with an ancient lineage. Help is on the way...if they can survive.

(CW for some body horror/sores. Basically, skip if something like rashes and sores would upset you. It’s not terribly graphic, but I know this can be a real phobia for some people).

* * *

“This is obviously a trap, Dean!”

Dean rolled his eyes and sandwiched his phone between his head and shoulder, flapping his fingers at Sam in the universal “won't stop talking” gesture. Sam didn't look impressed.

“Look, man, it's just a bunch of demons,” Dean replied. He checked the clip in his gun, tucked a couple spares into his belt, and reached for an angel blade. “Don't see what has you so worked up.”

“Will you please just wait for me?” Cas's voice was strained, and Dean could practically see the impatience in every line of the angel's face. “I'm less than two hours away.”

“Are you talking while driving?” Dean smirked at Sam, though Sam just shook his head and started double-checking his own gear. “Always the little rebel, ain't ya?”

He waited while Cas spluttered in outrage. “We'll be done before you even get here,” he said, talking right over whatever point Cas was about to make. “And, hey, they've got a drive-in movie theater in this town. We can make a field trip, I think they're playing one of the new Star Wars movies.”

Cas was still talking when Dean hung up the call. He shoved the phone into his pocket with a chuckle, then caught Sam staring at him. “What?”

Sam shook his head again and shoved the trunk of the car closed. “Would it kill you to wait for him anyway?”

“And miss all the fun?” Dean slapped his brother on the arm. “Dude. It's demons. Practically kindergarten stuff for us.” Anyway all the big players were downstairs—or dead—so it wasn't like they had anything to worry about.

His brother was still bitch-facing about it when Dean shoved him down the path toward the abandoned hotel. “All right, I'll buy him a root beer float or something, and he'll get over it by the time that little rolling droid he loves so much shows up on screen.”

“BB-8?”

“Dude, I'm getting second-hand embarrassment just knowing you know that.”

Sam turned around and spread his arms out, walking backward down the path. “At least I don't know all the Starfleet captains by first name.”

“Hey, Star Trek is an important part of our cultural history,” Dean retorted, shoving his brother in the chest to keep him moving. “Star Wars is for nerds.”

* * *

The old hotel was empty, apart from the faint dusty of sulfur on some of the decrepit furniture. There were some tracks in the dust, which was a little weird for a bunch of demons, Dean had to admit, but the tracks were recent enough to prove there was demonic activity here.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Dean pulled it out and made a face at it, swiping over the icon to ignore the call.

“Dude, he's probably worried,” Sam whispered.

“Yeah, he does that,” Dean shot back. He turned his phone off and shoved it back into his pocket. “He does that too damn much. We can handle one little nest of demons.”

Predictably...at least for Cas and Sam...and Dean, too, though he was loathed to admit it...they could not handle the “little” nest of demons.

The tracks lead them down to the old pool house, but before they'd even crossed the yard they'd been swarmed. The brothers had fought valiantly, back-to-back, and taken out a handful of the attacking demons but there were just too many. They were overwhelmed, hauled into the pool house, and tied to a couple of rusty old poolside chairs.

Dean jerked against his bonds—he could probably work himself free, given enough time. One side of his face had swollen up and his lip was busted up. Sam wasn't much better off, between the gash on his forehead bleeding enough to cover most of his face and the obvious dislocation to his left shoulder.

Well. Now he was gonna have to apologize to Cas for going in without him AND for getting himself and his brother captured. And injured. It would have to be a root beer float and popcorn and downloading the rest of the Star Wars movies for the weekend.

The demons were lined up along the sides of the pool now. They'd put Sam and Dean on the side nearest the shallow end, looking down the length of murky, stagnant water. Dean exchanged a look with his brother—what now? They'd been captured and beat up and tied up for, what, the world's worst diving contest?

The water rippled. Dean stared down at it in shock when a woman's head appeared at the deep end of the pool. But she wasn't swimming, she was...walking? And each step brought her further and further out of the water, the algae and slime cascading off of her body without leaving a trace behind. She was tall, with long, wavy blonde hair that fell almost to her hips. Her body was wrapped in a flowing green dress with a plunging neckline that showed off her...er, other features.

And she was walking on the water now. Because of course. Dean rolled his eyes so hard he almost sprained something. While there was something otherwordly about this whole thing, it was so obviously some demon princess bitch pretending to be a minor goddess or something.

She reached the shallow end of the pool and just stood there, looking at them. Dean glanced down at her bare feet, which were resting on the rippling water as easily as though she was standing on solid ground. “Nice trick,” he commented, smirking up at her. “Special power or just full of hot air?”

The demon in the green dress tilted her head to study him—nice try, bitch, that's Cas's thing—and blinked, her eyes clicking to beetle-black. “I am Vephar. Lord of the waters.”

“I'm Dean,” Dean replied, ignoring Sam's hissed warning. “Lord of the highway.”

Vephar studied for a moment, then raised one arm to point at his face. Pain erupted from his forehead to his chin and his brother called his name in a panicked voice. Vephar turned to face Sam next. “Who are you?”

Gritting his teeth, Dean rolled his head back enough to make eye contact with his brother. Sammy was shooting him a panicked look, obviously concerned by whatever the bitch had done. God, it still hurt. Most of the time when these bastards attacked telepathically it was like a cut from a razor, or a punch that somehow bypassed your muscle to hit you right in the organs. This was just...this was wrong. It ached and burned and felt wet somehow.

“I'm Sam,” his brother finally said, when Vephar took a step toward him. “Just Sam.”

“And why are you here, 'Just Sam'?”

Sam shot a look at Dean, who tried to shake his head subtly. “We were just looking around,” Sam finally stammered out. “The-the hotel. It's abandoned, we thought we could find something to sell in it. You know, the market for copper wire is pretty high right now.”

Vephar tilted her head to the other side. “No,” she intoned after a few seconds. “You're lying.” She raised her hand again and Sam jerked back with a cry of pain. Now Dean could see why his brother had looked so horrified. Instead of cutting or bruising, Vephar had raised an angry-looking line of oozing sores on his brother's face. It reminded him of nothing so much as Nick's face when Lucifer was burning through him...or Cas when he'd taken the souls from Purgatory.

“I was once a grand duke of hell,” Vephar explained, walking back down the length of the pool. “I commanded my legions and churned the mighty waters. I rode the seas in glorious battle, until I was betrayed and bound in this place.”

Dean grunted, tugging at the bonds on his wrists as the urge to dig his fingers into his face became nearly unbearable. “Sucks to be you.”

Vephar turned back to face him and raised one delicate eyebrow. “Indeed.”

Then she raised her hand and Dean threw his head back with a scream as another line of pain lanced up the other side of his face.

“What's binding you here?” Sam asked. “Maybe we can break it? Set you free?”

She tilted her head again, her black gaze boring into Sam's. “You're lying again.”

“Sammy, no!” Dean surged against the ropes uselessly as sores burst into existence around his brother's neck. “You bitch!”

“Temper,” Vephar replied calmly, and then the horrible, burning, wet pain was streaking down his chest under his shirt. Every shift in position made the fabric of his clothing rub against the sores, until it felt like he'd covered himself in sandpaper instead of a t-shirt.

“I don't get much to play with here,” the demon bitch said. She had that damn hand up in the air again, her index finger extended, and she waved it back and forth between the brothers as though trying to choose which one to torture. “I hope you last longer than the last ones.”

Dean was steeling himself to shout—distract the bitch, insult her, make her focus all her anger on him to give Sammy a chance to escape—when the door to the pool house exploded inward.

“Cas!” Sam's voice was thick with warning as the demons that had been lining the sides of the pool turned to swarm the angel. Dean grit his teeth and refocused his efforts on freeing himself. Cas was good—damn good—but there were well over a dozen demons, and heaven wasn't exactly running on full power these days.

He saw Cas go down. Dean threw himself backward with a jerk, finally crashing the chair into the stained tile of the pool deck. Something in the chair had cracked and his ropes were a little looser, and he fought to break himself free.

“Close your eyes!”

Dean swore and tucked his head toward his shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut. Even then the burst of grace was almost enough to blind him. Damn, Cas hadn't done that in a long time. He hoped his friend still had the juice to recover from an attack like that.

Blinking back the sparks in his vision, Dean rolled onto his side and tried to push himself to his feet. He could see the smoking, empty meatsuits of the demons scattered in a half-circle around Cas, but Cas wasn't looking so good. He had sunk to one knee, and several bloody tears in his trench coat showed where the demons had gotten a few hits in before he'd smited them. Smote them. Whatever.

“Angel!”

Dean threw himself forward and tried to grab Vephar around the ankles as she stalked out of the water toward Cas. The smiting hadn't been enough to end her, though she seemed to be staggering a little and there was black sludge trickling out of her nose.

Cas struggled to his feet, but he was empty-handed—Dean could see a glint of silver just a few feet away, but Cas couldn't reach it before Vephar had a hand around his throat, backing him into the wall.

“I'm going to enjoy this,” the demon bitch sneered. “Angels are so much more...resilient...than humans. Don't you agree, 'lord of the highway'?”

Dean let out a cry as more pain tore through the side of his face. It felt like the sores were swelling, and his stomach nearly revolted when he felt liquid oozing down his neck.

“Hey! Bitch!”

Vephar whirled around, just in time to catch Sam's knife in her throat. Damn, but the kid had good aim. They'd been trying to copy Ruby's blade for years now, and while Sam had never come up with something to match it in power, the runes he'd started carving into the knife he tucked into his boot still did some damage.

The demon released Cas to tug uselessly at the knife in her throat. She glowered at Sam and started to raised her hand, but Cas tackled her from behind.

He'd gotten his angel blade back, during her moment of distraction, and drove it deep into her back, giving it a vicious twist as she screamed out her dying breath.

Dean collapsed in relief. It felt like the sores were still on his face, but the pain had faded significantly. It no longer felt like his skin was going to erupt and peel away from his bone—more like he had a bad case of road rash.

He rolled himself over to check on Sammy. The kid had only worked his right arm free and thrown his knife from there. He sagged in his ropes, panting for breath, but gave Dean a thumb's up when he realized his brother was looking.

Before he could roll back to check on Cas, a firm hand gripped him by the shoulder and rolled him onto his back. Dean found himself staring up at the angel's bruised, angry face. “Next time I tell you it's a trap,” Cas ground out, even as his fingers brushed feather-light over Dean's forehead to heal his wounds, “do me a favor and wait for me.”

Okay. Root beer float, popcorn, the rest of the Star Wars movies, AND another couple pairs of those novelty socks Cas liked so much. The angel had definitely earned it today.

* * *

You guessed it, Vephar is from the Key of Solomon. They’re described as being able to make the seas rough or calm, guiding ships to their destination, and killing by putrefying wounds and sores (fun!). They take the form of a mermaid, so I gave them a female meatsuit and the power to walk on water.

(For those of you who don’t know, the Key of Solomon is my favorite resource for extra-powerful demons. Vephar is the third I’ve used so far, so there’s just 69 to go!)

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday23 #supernatural #fic #fanfic #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #don't look #captured #demons #cw body horror #cw sores #more like BADASStiel am i right? #I'm right aren't i #hurt dean #hurt sam

[heartofether]

Episode 14 - Hungry TRANSCRIPT

[You can listen to the show wherever you get your podcasts, or go to our “Listen” page if you’re on desktop.]

VAL

Hey there. I just wanted to say before the episode that you may notice that Phoebe's voice sounds different than it did before. We now have a new voice actor who will be playing Phoebe Wood. We wish her previous voice actor, Nyx King, all the best on all of their future endeavors. Phoebe's new voice actor is going to be Lark Pelletier, who we are delighted to have on our cast.

I just wanted to let you all know so you didn't get confused when Phoebe's voice sounded different, and it was some sort of plot-related Not!Phoebe thing. Other than that, I hope you enjoy the episode, and stay safe out there.

AUTOMATED VOICE

Please state [THE VOICE GLITCHES] your message.

[THEME SONG BEGINS PLAYING.]

VAL

Three-Eyed Frog Presents: The Heart of Ether.

[THEME MUSIC FADES TO A STOP.]

[PHONE BEEP.]

[INT. THE POPPY GARDEN MOTEL, AGENTS MAY AND JUNES’ ROOM, NIGHT.]

[AGENT MAY IS HEARD FLIPPING THROUGH PAPERS.]

AGENT MAY

This is the audio log of Operation Saturn, phase 1.2. This is day one, part two. Conducted by Agents May and June. All recordings are legal property of the Harper—

[HE STOPS, THEN, FRUSTRATED] Goddammit, where did he put that photo?

[HE CONTINUES TO SORT THROUGH PAPERS, THEN, DISGRUNTLED] After our conversation with Irene Gray, Agent June and I had to re-organize the folders she disturbed. Of course, June had no understanding of how the folders were sorted, so he shoved papers wherever he saw fit. [UNDER HIS BREATH] No mind to the effort I put into labeling each folder.

It must be here somewhere.

[THE DOOR SWINGS OPEN AS AGENT JUNE WALKS IN, ARMS FULL OF SNACKS. HE'S HEARD CLOSING IT BEHIND HIM AS HE TALKS.]

AGENT JUNE

You are not going to believe this, my man. Okay, so, this motel is cheap as hell, right? Super dusty, the wallpaper’s peeling off, kinda smells like someone’s dog died in the lobby. Honestly, lowkey hoped the Foundation would have been a little bit more generous with their funds, but also I’m not surprised they stuck us here. I mean, hey, what do I know? Maybe this motel is haunted and they expect us to Ghostbuster the place up.

[AGENT MAY GROANS LOUDLY.]

AGENT JUNE

[CONT.] But! Here’s the kicker! Vending machines downstairs? Jam-packed. They have king-sized candy bars!

[THERE ARE WRAPPER NOISES AS AGENT JUNE SHOWS OFF HIS FINDS.]

AGENT JUNE

Look at this! Man, I haven’t actually eaten candy in so long. The drink machine is all off-brand soda, though, so, sucks to suck, I guess.

[HE DUMPS THE SNACKS ONTO THE BED.]

AGENT JUNE

Oh, and there is a pool. Hot tub, too. Though there were some stray cats in the bushes who were…well, I’ll leave that up to your imagination. Still, if you packed a swimsuit, maybe we could hit that up later?

AGENT MAY

I did not pack a swimsuit. Unlike some of us, I came here to do my job.

AGENT JUNE

Hey, that’s not fair. Of course I’m doing my job! I just, you know, enjoy having a life outside of work. Know what that’s like?

AGENT MAY

Of course I do. I just don’t intend to do any messing around while we’re here.

AGENT JUNE

Oh, yeah?

[AGENT JUNE CROSSES HIS ARMS.]

AGENT JUNE

What do you do outside of work?

AGENT MAY

I cook. I read, though recently, I haven’t done so as much as I used to. I keep up with the news. I, you know, run errands. [AS THE LIST GOES ON, HE STRUGGLES MORE AND MORE TO COME UP WITH THINGS.]

AGENT JUNE

Okay, only half of those things are potentially fun. Not even guaranteed fun, just the potential for enjoyment.

AGENT MAY

What does it matter to you what I do in my free time, anyways?

AGENT JUNE

Because nobody should be trapped in that miserable cycle where you just do your 9-to-5 until you die, dude! Come on.

Alright, how about this: from here on out, my mission within this mission is to get you to do something fun. Got that? You’re walking away from here with one new hobby or so help me.

AGENT MAY

What about our actual job?

AGENT JUNE

I’ll find time in between! You just watch.

[AGENT JUNE PLOPS DOWN ON HIS BED. HE OPENS THE WRAPPER FOR ONE OF THE CANDY BARS. THERE’S A PAUSE.]

AGENT MAY

Do you think Irene Gray will come back around?

AGENT JUNE

Mm, not sure? She didn’t seem too happy with us.

[AS MAY CONTINUES, JUNE IS HEARD EATING ONE OF HIS CANDY BARS.]

AGENT MAY

I’m just worried she won’t agree to work with us after today. I mean, our mission just started, and we might have just lost what could have been a valuable connection. I mean, you saw how suspicious she was when we entered her house. It’s possible that she knows exactly what it is we’re after—and if she’s familiar with Valencia’s work, well, who knows what she knows?

AGENT JUNE

[THROUGH CHEWING] I get what you mean. [HE SWALLOWS.] Though, to be fair, our method was kind of…

AGENT MAY

[A BEAT.] Pardon?

AGENT JUNE

[HESITANT] Don’t you think it’s kind of cruel? Using Rosemary to lure her in? It’s clearly a sensitive topic for her, and we just kind of, you know, ripped the bandage off a wound that may or may not have healed properly.

AGENT MAY

[STRAINED] You have a point.

[UNCOMFORTABLE] We were following orders, though.

AGENT JUNE

I guess.

[THERE’S A PAUSE, FOLLOWED BY MORE CANDY WRAPPER RUSTLING.]

AGENT JUNE

Speaking of which, what does the Foundation have on the agenda for us next?

AGENT MAY

Plenty to keep us occupied. We are going to be interviewing a woman named Lorelei Foster—

[AGENT JUNE GROANS.]

AGENT MAY

We’re not trying to bait her or anything like that. This is just an interview. She lives on the outskirts of town, but she used to own Moon Cloves, the only metaphysical store in town. She is also one of the only people who was close to Valencia that is still alive.

AGENT JUNE

Gotcha, gotcha.

[AN UNCOMFORTABLE PAUSE AS AGENT JUNE CONTINUES TO EAT HIS CANDY.]

AGENT MAY

Would you mind not eating on the bed?

AGENT JUNE

Mm! Actually, so glad you brought up the uh, singular ‘bed.’

[AGENT JUNE SHIFTS AROUND ON THE SINGULAR BED TO EMPHASIZE HIS POINT.]

AGENT JUNE

What do you plan on doing about that?

AGENT MAY

Haven’t thought about it. Say, do you know what happened to that photo we had of the bicycle?

AGENT JUNE

Oh, no clue.

[AGENT MAY GROANS IN FRUSTRATION.]

AGENT JUNE

[COOING] You’re avoiding the bed situation, aren’t you?

AGENT MAY

[GRUMBLING] You can have it. I’m fine sleeping in the car.

AGENT JUNE

[SURPRISED] Woah, you sure? I mean, I’m used to uncomfortable sleeping arrangements, trust me.

AGENT MAY

I’ll be fine. I prefer the uh, privacy, of the car.

AGENT JUNE

[UNCONVINCED] Sure.

Uh, thank you. For the bed. [HE CHUCKLES.] How did the Foundation manage to mess that one up, anyways?

AGENT MAY

Apparently, there was a mistake in the paperwork.

AGENT JUNE

That sucks.

AGENT MAY

Indeed.

[A PAUSE.]

AGENT MAY

Right. We should probably get some rest soon, anyways.

AGENT JUNE

[HE SCOFFS.] Dude, are you kidding me? It’s like, 8:30! Okay, I refuse to go to bed that early.

AGENT MAY

We have a busy day ahead of us.

AGENT JUNE

Yeah, and I’m used to functioning off of five hours of sleep, so I’ll be fine.

AGENT MAY

My apologies for having a healthy sleep schedule. Anyways, I’m turning this off—

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

[ANOTHER PHONE BEEP.]

[INT. “VEIL,” A HIP, MODERN RESTAURANT DOWNTOWN, MIDDAY.]

[THE RESTAURANT IS BUSTLING WITH ACTIVITY. THERE’S FAINT CONVERSATION AND DISH CLANKING IN THE BACKGROUND.]

AVERY

Is it on?

IRENE

[UNEASY] Um, yeah. Say, how did you know I was going to record this?

AVERY

Hm? Oh, it was a lucky guess. I just wanted you to wait until we got done ordering.

IRENE

Right.

[A BEAT.] How long do you think we’ll be here, exactly? I have plans to meet someone back at my house this afternoon.

AVERY

Oh, that’s fine. It shouldn’t be long. You could technically leave whenever you like, since I’m taking the bill.

IRENE

What? No! I’m not letting a teenager pay for my food—

AVERY

How old are you, again? You look college-age. You’re wearing a university t-shirt—say, did you live on campus? Maybe have a meal plan? I mean, you don’t look like your parents have money, but I could be—

IRENE

[CUTTING THEM OFF] Okay, okay, I get it. Thank you for lunch, I guess.

AVERY

Not a problem.

[THERE’S A LONG PAUSE.]

IRENE

[AWKWARDLY] So, are you going to explain it?

AVERY

Explain what?

IRENE

The meat thing.

AVERY

Oh, you want to discuss my eating habits? That’s kinda rude, you know.

IRENE

I mean, you just ordered your burger, quote, “as rare as you’re legally allowed to serve it,” and then offered me your side. Plus, I’ve seen what your mom buys at the store for you.

AVERY

Oh, don’t preach to me about the ethics of eating a living thing or whatever. I’ve heard enough of that. You know, it’s not as black and white as—

IRENE

[OVERLAPPING, WITH A GROAN] Look, I may be vegetarian, but it’s not like that. I’m not talking from a place of judgment or moral high ground, I just—wanna know if there’s a reason for it. Your meat diet.

[SHE TAKES A DRINK OF HER WATER.]

AVERY

I’m not human.

[IRENE PROMPTLY SPITS HER WATER OUT.]

AVERY

Mm, well, I think I’m pretty close to human. And don’t mix this up as some sort of identity thing—I actually had my gender slash identity crisis before my transformation.

[MUTTERS] Actually thought I had myself pretty well figured out before the change. Keyword being ‘thought.’ There was still this part of me that was desperately trying to be something I wasn’t, I think. It led to me becoming something I didn’t want to be in a very literal and permanent sense.

IRENE

So, you weren’t always like this?

AVERY

Nope. I used to be a person just like you. That is, until I got involved with some heavy stuff. Stuff I shouldn’t have messed with, you know?

I did a ritual I shouldn’t have done, and—hey, do you know how it feels for your insides to be rearranged by some otherworldly force? As if your internal organs are a completed puzzle, but somebody decided it didn’t look right, so they just started jamming the pieces together in an attempt to make a new image?

IRENE

[UNCOMFORTABLE] That sounds painful.

AVERY

Obviously! Anyways, I’m doing better now. That was a couple of years ago. The big difference is that now, raw meat is pretty much the only thing my body is good at digesting. I can technically eat other food, but it doesn’t take much before I start getting sick.

IRENE

That sounds…jeez, I’m sorry.

AVERY

Hey, there are perks to it. I mean, my canines are super sharp, so I kinda look like a vampire if you look hard enough. Oh, I’m also super strong. Like, not “pick up your car” strong, but I could probably lift this table up.

IRENE

[SLOWLY BECOMING INCREASINGLY OVERWHELMED] Right.

AVERY

Does that answer your question?

IRENE

Yeah, but it spawned, like, five more, uh—

[IRENE STRUGGLES TO COLLECT HERSELF FOR A MOMENT.]

AVERY

You’re not going to figure this all out in one day, so don’t try to. Seriously. You look really overwhelmed. It’s not about making out the whole bigger picture right away, just focus on like, the upper right-hand corner of it.

IRENE

[CALMING DOWN] Right. Right, okay.

AVERY

I’ll let you ask a couple more questions, though.

IRENE

So, you did a ritual that shifted your organs around and made you something…slightly to the left of human?

AVERY

That’s correct.

IRENE

Where did that power come from? What made that happen to you?

AVERY

[THEY THINK FOR A MOMENT.] That’s a more complicated answer than I think you’re ready for. I mean, if you don’t even know what Ether is—

IRENE

[CUTTING THEM OFF, IN REALIZATION] Ether! God, Valencia had that written somewhere, I think—when I went up to the attic during the—

AVERY

So you do know Valencia.

IRENE

Well, yeah. I’m living in his old house.

AVERY

I know. That house has a reputation, you know. Almost as much as the man himself. [WARNING] People take note of things like that.

IRENE

So, Ether is the source of your power?

AVERY

Mm, sort of? It’s complicated. Ether is the source behind a whole lot of things, but I’m not sure it has any sort of agenda.

IRENE

Is it linked to the mold at all? Or, wait, do you even know what the mold is?

AVERY

You mean the Spread? Yellow, infects people upon touch, kind of has a mind of its own?

IRENE

…the Spread?

AVERY

That’s what Dorothy and Valencia called it. They had all sorts of weird names for things.

IRENE

That explains the Folk.

Did they have a name for what you are?

AVERY

Yeah. [MUTTERS] I don’t like it, though.

IRENE

What is it?

AVERY

[WITH DISTASTE] The Hungry.

[A BEAT.] That’s really the only name there is, though, so, I kinda have to just suck it up.

IRENE

How did you find all of that out? From what I’ve seen of their research, it’s mostly blank—

AVERY

[WHISPERING] Might want to keep your voice down about the research. People could be listening.

[A PAUSE.]

IRENE

[WHISPERING] What the fuck.

AVERY

[AT NORMAL VOLUME, TRYING TO PLAY IT OFF] The naming conventions are the only part of their research that sort of became common knowledge over time. At least, among those who knew what Ether was. I think even that stupid Foundation picked up on the names after a while. Dorothy and Valencia never really agreed on how exactly the names should be determined, and they died before they could finally stop having petty arguments over it.

I knew Dorothy, though, before she died. She helped me figure out my whole [UNSEEN VAGUE GESTURE] situation. She was a much kinder person than Valencia, you know.

IRENE

I’ve gathered that much. Damn, that means you know more about this than even her own granddaughter.

AVERY

Phoebe Wood? I don’t know her that well. I only saw her around the bookstore once or twice—well, and at Dorothy’s funeral, obviously.

IRENE

I see.

AVERY

Any other questions?

[A PAUSE.]

IRENE

Why did you invite me here?

AVERY

…hm?

IRENE

I mean, why did you invite me to lunch? This—whatever you’re involved in—is clearly far bigger than me. Why would you want to talk to me, of all people?

AVERY

[THROUGH A SMILE] You’re clever, Irene. Nosy, too. That might cause you some problems later.

Anyways, this whole lunch was a test.

[A BEAT.] Oh, why do you look so shocked? What did you think this was about, anyways? Leisurely conversation with some random kid who came to your house?

Anyways, I’ve been involved in this business for, mm, two years? After a while, you get really good at reading people, you know? Most people who choose to get involved in this are just flat-out stupid, but you, Irene, are a special breed of stupid.

Like, you’re not pretentious or egotistical like some of them are, but you’re stubborn, you know? You don’t go down easy. Take that as a compliment. Or don’t. I barely know you, what does my word count for?

[IRENE STUTTERS SOMETHING INCOHERENT.]

AVERY

[CONT.] What I’m saying is that you might just be stupid enough to accidentally do something smart. That’s the kind of behavior that can save you from getting killed. Am I making sense?

IRENE

Um, maybe?

AVERY

Great. Anyways, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you’re in too deep at this point. You were already kind of cursed the moment you were naive enough to move into Valencia’s house. There’s a reason it was empty for so long, you know. Again, reputation, or whatever.

If you’ve already encountered the Spread, however, well, that’s kind of the final nail in the coffin. You’re in this game, whether you like it or not.

IRENE

Calling it a game implies that it’s fun.

AVERY

[THINKING] For some of them, it is.

IRENE

And who are they?

AVERY

If you learn to shut your mouth, you may never have to find out, but you’re not very good at that.

IRENE

[OFFENDED] Hey—!

AVERY

[OVERLAPPING] Anyways, you clearly need some help getting your footing in all of this. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone on your side who isn’t out of their mind or a murderer? I pride myself in that.

IRENE

[WARILY] You said this was a test.

AVERY

That I did.

IRENE

…did I pass?

AVERY

Yep.

[HESITANT] The test wasn’t to see whether or not I would help you, though. I planned on offering my assistance regardless—well, unless you were a complete jerk, but you’re not.

The test was to see…well, to see if you could help me.

IRENE

You need my help?

AVERY

[TRYING TO HIDE THEIR WORRY] I think the waiter has our food. You should probably turn off the recording.

IRENE

[REALIZING] Oh. Okay.

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

[ANOTHER PHONE BEEP.]

[INT. IRENE’S ATTIC, THE SAME DAY, MIDDAY.]

[THERE IS THE SOUND OF PHOEBE AND HOLLY CLIMBING UP THE LADDER AND INTO THE ATTIC.]

IRENE

[TO PHOEBE] Can you climb up over the—

PHOEBE

[OVERLAPPING] Yup, yup, just um, please—

[IRENE HELPS PHOEBE UP ONTO THE ATTIC FLOOR.]

PHOEBE

Sorry. Thank you.

IRENE

It’s not a problem. Will you be able to get down?

PHOEBE

That should be easier, I think. My legs just hurt a lot if I move too much. It’s fine. I’ll be fine.

[HOLLY CLIMBS UP INTO THE ATTIC.]

HOLLY

Here’s your cane.

PHOEBE

Thank you.

HOLLY

Of course.

PHOEBE

Oh, Irene, I hope you don’t mind I brought someone else. Holly is, uh—

HOLLY

[OVERLAPPING] We’re dating.

IRENE

Oh. Oh! Right, I didn’t know you were dating someone, Phoebe.

PHOEBE

[FLUSTERED] We just started recently—I mean, like, very recent.

IRENE

Well, congratulations.

PHOEBE

Thank you.

[FOOTSTEPS AS HOLLY LOOKS AROUND THE ATTIC.]

HOLLY

So, this is it?

IRENE

Unless he has something hidden beneath the floorboards, then, this is all of it.

HOLLY

[SHE CHUCKLES.] At this point, that wouldn’t surprise me.

IRENE

Good point. [A BEAT.] We’re not ripping up my floors, though. This house may have belonged to Valencia, but it’s mine now.

[PHOEBE IS HEARD FLIPPING THROUGH SOME PAPERS.]

PHOEBE

This looks just like what Grandma Doe has.

IRENE

There’s more than just that.

[IRENE HANDS PHOEBE ONE OF THE BOOKS.]

PHOEBE

[READING THE COVER.] Daughtler: The Heart of Ether.

[SHE FANS THROUGH IT.]

PHOEBE

[SURPRISED] None of this is written in code. Irene, have you read any of this?

IRENE

Not yet. I haven’t had the time. We found these books when we got cornered.

[PHOEBE CONTINUES FLIPPING THROUGH PAGES.]

PHOEBE

It never got finished. He must have died before he could get around to it.

[HOLLY'S FOOTSTEPS ARE HEARD IN THE BACKGROUND.]

IRENE

What do you think he planned on doing with these?

PHOEBE

I’m not sure? Maybe he wanted to make the knowledge more accessible?

[HOLLY IS HEARD OPENING A CARDBOARD BOX.]

HOLLY

Hey, have you looked in this box?

IRENE

Um, no. I haven’t sorted through everything yet. Why?

[AS IRENE TALKS, SHE WALKS OVER TO WHERE HOLLY IS.]

HOLLY

There’s a bunch of undeveloped film in here.

IRENE

What do you think is on it?

HOLLY

Hell if I know. Do you have a place to develop film?

IRENE

No. Do you know anyone, Phoebe?

PHOEBE

Um, no. Sorry.

HOLLY

We can try putting an advert out. There’s a bulletin board outside of the Open Eyes Bookstore. Maybe if we post something, someone will reach out?

IRENE

That’s a good idea. I can put my number on it, too.

PHOEBE

[NERVOUS] Are you sure that’s a good idea?

IRENE

We don’t have to say what the film is for, right? It wouldn’t hurt to try. I mean, what if Valencia took a photo of something really important? Until we figure out how to read the other research, this may be the only tangible evidence we have.

[A BEAT.]

PHOEBE

Yeah, um, about that—

HOLLY

We figured out how to read the research. Well, correction, Phoebe did.

IRENE

[SURPRISED] Actually? That’s great news, Phoebe! How are you going to do it?

PHOEBE

[NERVOUS] Well, you see, it’s er, um, complicated. You might want to sit down?

IRENE

Oh, I guarantee you, nothing can surprise me after the conversation I had earlier. Try me.

PHOEBE

Well, the reason why the papers look blank is because they’re written in a way the human eye can’t read. Everything the two of them researched, it all stemmed from this thing called Ether, though I’m not sure entirely what that means yet other than it’s something like a power source.

My grandmother and Valencia had, um, special abilities? That allowed them to read and write in ways nobody else could understand, as well as do other stuff. So, if I want to be able to properly continue their work, I have to do the same thing they did. Acquire those same powers.

IRENE

So, is there, like, a ritual you have to do?

PHOEBE

You’re not freaking out?

IRENE

[DEADPAN] What did I say? I’ll accept anything at this point.

HOLLY

It is a ritual, yeah. We haven’t done it yet, because there’s a specific way to do it, and the consequences of fucking it up can be pretty bad. Dorothy left instructions on how to do it.

Phoebe’s going to be the only one trying to—how do I say this, ascend? Obtain the magic, or whatever it is? I’m going to be there to help in case anything goes wrong, though.

IRENE

That’s your plan, then? You’re gonna try to get supernatural powers to continue your grandmother’s work?

PHOEBE

It sounds kind of surreal when you put it that way, but, yes.

IRENE

Are you sure that’s what you want, Phoebe? I mean, I’m not saying you shouldn’t—it would definitely be helpful to have someone who can understand all this stuff, but… [SHE TRAILS OFF.]

PHOEBE

But?

IRENE

It’s your life. You don’t have to do what your grandmother did. This sounds like a really big deal. I mean, is there any way to reverse it once it’s done?

PHOEBE

Not as far as I know.

HOLLY

Trust me, we had this conversation. [HOLDING SOMETHING BACK] I have my worries too, but—

PHOEBE

But it’s not really a choice. For me, at least. I’ve thought really hard about it, and I’ve decided that if Grandma Doe thought I could handle it, then I trust her. I know there’s no turning back, but, I’m willing to accept the responsibility.

IRENE

Okay, then. That’s good. I hope it didn’t seem like I was trying to scold you, I just—

PHOEBE

No, you’re fine, don’t worry! I know you’re just looking out for me. I appreciate it. [SHE SAYS THIS WITH SLIGHT DISCOMFORT, SINCE SHE ISN’T USED TO PEOPLE CARING.]

IRENE

Of course.

[A BRIEF PAUSE.]

HOLLY

Well, should we get back to the shop and post that ad?

PHOEBE

That would be a good idea, yeah.

[PHOEBE CLOSES THE BOOK.]

PHOEBE

Um, do you mind if I bring this book with me, Irene?

IRENE

Go right ahead.

PHOEBE

Thanks again.

IRENE

Yup. Let me know how it goes.

[HOLLY HELPS PHOEBE GET ONTO THE LADDER.]

HOLLY

Are you good?

PHOEBE

Yup, yup. Thank you.

HOLLY

Unless you need my help, you can head to the car. I’ll be down in a minute.

PHOEBE

I’ll be okay, thanks.

[A LONG PAUSE WHILE PHOEBE CLIMBS DOWN AND LEAVES.]

HOLLY

Irene?

IRENE

Yeah?

HOLLY

What’s your endgame here?

IRENE

[TAKEN ABACK] Um, what?

HOLLY

I mean, why are you doing this?

IRENE

I didn’t have a choice. The mold attacked me first.

HOLLY

But you didn’t just move to a different place. You didn’t try to run away.

[A TENSE PAUSE.]

IRENE

[WARILY] You know what they say. Curiosity killed the cat.

HOLLY

Oh, come on, it’s not just that.

IRENE

[A BEAT.] No. No, it’s not.

HOLLY

Whatever it is, could you promise me one thing?

IRENE

I can try.

HOLLY

Don’t get too close. You’re already in dangerous territory. Not long until you’re gonna get burned.

IRENE

[SHE SCOFFS.] Not the first time I’ve heard that today.

HOLLY

[DEFENSIVE] And no matter what it is, you don’t put Phoebe at risk, in any way. You don’t touch a hair on her head, got that?

IRENE

I’d never dream of it.

HOLLY

Good. Take care.

IRENE

You, too.

[HOLLY LEAVES. THERE’S A LONG MOMENT WHILE IRENE LINGERS, WAITING UNTIL THEY’VE LEFT THE HOUSE.]

IRENE

There’s one more thing I need to tell you, Rose.

When Avery asked me to turn off the recording, it wasn’t just because our food had arrived. They said they needed my help with something.

You know how they said they were part of a wider, I guess, subcategory of weird? The Hungry? They know other people who are like that, and apparently, the Hungry are starting to go missing. It’s been most prevalent in the Washington area over the past month, but it’s been going on across the country for a long time.

Avery thinks someone’s killing them. One by one. Hunting them down.

They asked if I could help figure out what’s happening. I agreed. Not sure why. I have no clue how I’m supposed to catch a killer. Guess I’ll have to figure it out.

I should get going. I have a lot of thinking to do.

Talk to you soon.

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

[ANOTHER PHONE BEEP.]

[INT. IRENE’S BEDROOM, NIGHT.]

[THERE IS THE SOUND OF CRICKETS FROM OUTSIDE.]

IRENE

[SOFTLY, TINGED WITH SLEEPINESS] Hey. I know it’s late. Trust me, I’ve tried sleeping, but it just isn’t happening. I have too much on my mind. Avery’s problem, Phoebe’s plan…Ether. Whatever that means.

But, above all of that—above the chaos my life is slowly dissolving into—I’ve realized something: I might see you again. For years, the thought of being with you has been a passive daydream. Now, for the first time in ages, it’s a real and tangible thing in my hands. It’s not just a hope, but a possible future.

I’ve thought about how I might react. Hell, I’ve thought about that ever since you first went missing. Will I start sobbing? Will I scream? I have no idea. I might not do anything. Might just stand there and stare at you, dumbfounded.

[TENDER] I can be sure of one thing: if I find you, I promise not to let go. Whatever is chasing you, whatever tries to hurt you, I won’t let it. You’ve run for so long. You must be so tired.

If—no, when—when I find you, I’ll…I’ll give you anything, okay? A hundred flowers. A thousand paper cranes. Easy mornings, trips to the bakery, that domestic life you used to romanticize so much, but never got. My flesh, my blood, my bones, my whole entire being. I’ll give it all to you. Of course I will.

Goodnight, my dove.

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

AUTOMATED VOICE

Today's quote is: “I will take the sun in my mouth

and leap into the ripe air

Alive

with closed eyes

to dash against darkness.”

E.E. Cummings in Crepuscule, 1917.

We are all there is here. That which we harbor will not spoil you with rotten words. There is no cause for concern. There is no cause for concern. [THEN, SLOWER] There is no—

[THE VOICE IS CUT OFF BY A GLITCHING NOISE.]

[OUTRO MUSIC & CREDITS PLAY.]

ELI ESDI

The Station Arcadia podcast tells stories from a dystopian world where dieselpunk, steampunk, cyberpunk and solarpunk societies all exist side by side. These diverse stories are told through a radio station on a shifting island, and given voice by the Station's Host - Kassandra.

KASS

Did that man just try to offer jerky as a consolation prize for someone’s daughter?

ELI

Woven through each stand-alone story are threads that come together to tell the story of a revolution, and hope in the face of a dying world. MEMORIE

I understand enough. The revolution still has hope and I want to help.

ELI Breaks in the narration bring us on-site to each society, where we hear four unique and powerful stories.

[ALICE GRUNTS]

TEDDY

Stop squirming!

ALICE

I can lift myself through the window let me just-!

[DULL THUD FROM BEHIND A WALL.]

ALICE

[MUFFLED] Ow.

ELI

Station Arcadia broadcasts Fridays at 9 am Pacific Time. Transcripts and additional information are available at stationarcadia.com.

Remember listeners; Stay Safe, Stay Moving, and Stick Close. You’ve been listening to Station Arcadia, the promo.

#heart of ether transcripts

[stardust-walker]

High Hopes: Chapter 15

Previous Chapters:  1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

word count: 3897

_______________________________________________________

Julian didn’t know what to think of the new group that had just come onto the farm. He didn’t trust the one guy, that was for sure. He’d gone into the city with Otis and had come back without him. Otis was a good person, but it didn’t sound right. He probably would’ve done anything to save a little kid but the guy seemed sketchy. He felt sort of relieved when it seemed like not everyone bought his bullshit either.

He was jumpy as he waited for Maggie to get back from her run to the store. Since Otis, the thought of people leaving the farm felt like they were marching off to their deaths. A smile was on his face as he finally spotted Maggie riding up on her horse with Glenn. That guy didn’t seem too bad, at least. Unable to contain himself, he leapt off the porch and had the reins of Glenn’s horse in his hands before the other man could say anything. “Let me help you put the horses back,” he said brightly.

Maggie and Glenn exchanged a look before Maggie replied. “Sure thing. Thanks for all your help out there, Glenn.”

Julian looked over his shoulder as the other man hurried off to join the rest of his group by the tents as the dark haired woman from before and her redneck companion came out from the trees. “What do you think,” he questioned Maggie before he clicked his tongue and began to lead to horse to the stable.

“Nothin to think. They find that little girl, odds are my daddy’s gonna make them leave,” Maggie shrugged her shoulders from atop the horse.

Julian nodded his head slowly, “You see anything out there?”

“We didn’t see her out there if that’s what you’re askin me, Jude.” Maggie shook her head before she let out a long sigh.

Julian’s shoulders slumped. He couldn’t help but stare out at the barn in the distance as he opened the door to the horse’s pen. A shiver ran down his back before he averted his eyes. “Better than the alternative, I guess.”

~

Dove rested somewhat easily that night, she felt some comfort in the fact that the next day would mean the search was in full swing. She still hated doing the laundry, though. She would rather be out there in the woods looking for Sophia, but Carol had roped her into her chore. “C’mon. No one wants to help me with this. Andrea’s off tryin’ to play Annie Oakley somewhere and Lori’s still sleepin.”

“I wish I was still sleepin,” Dove grumbled as she picked up a basket of clothes. She squinted her hazel eyes at the closest well. “Jesus, what happened over there?”

Carol shook her head. “You missed it. They sent Glenn down into the well. Apparently there was a walker down there.” Dove opened her mouth to reply but Carol cut her off. “I know you woulda raised all types of hell if you were here, but Glenn’s fine. You’ve seen him.”

Dove huffed and blew a stray hair out of her eyes. “I’m gonna give that little bastard a piece of my mind for not tellin me about that. When I’m done with him, he’ll wanna go back down that well.” She let out a chuckle.

It felt like hours, but it wasn’t too long until she was sitting on top of a picnic table, basket of wet clothes next to her. She handed Carol a wet shirt to hang up as Lori stepped out of her tent. “Mornin, princess,” Dove called over cheerfully, “Nice of you to join us.”

Lori managed a weak smile as she walked over and greeted the two sisters. “Can’t believe I slept in.”

“You probably needed it,” Carol smiled at her.

“Yeah, I think we all need to take turns sleeping in. It feels amazing,” Dove yawned as she ran a hand through her ponytail.

“You feelin ok,” Carol scrutinized Lori carefully as the other woman nodded. “I have an idea I wanted to run by you two. That big kitchen of theirs got me thinking, I wouldn’t mind cooking in a real kitchen again.” Dove smiled as she thought about Carol’s cooking. She definitely wasn’t a five-star chef by any means, but Carol was a good cook. There was no doubt about that. “Maybe we all pitch in and make dinner for Hershel and his family tonight. Kind of looking for things to keep my mind occupied.”

Dove leaned back on her hands with a heavy sigh as she looked up at the sky. She really wanted to be out there. She wanted to help look for Sophia, but she knew Carol would fight her on it. Maybe the right place for her to be was here on the farm; she needed to be with her sister.

“Seems like the least we could do,” Lori agreed.

Dove nodded her head, “Yeah sure. I’ll try to help. I’m not real good in the kitchen, but I’ll try my best.” She flashed her sister a quick smile.

“You mind extending the invitation,” Carol smiled at Lori. Would feel more right comin from you,” Carol reasoned.

Dove eyed Lori. “You’re like our unofficial First Lady,” Carol joked.

Lori and Dove both rolled their eyes but Dove let out a snort of laughter. “President Rick Grimes? I don’t remember votin, but that sounds about right,” she raised an eyebrow at Lori and raised a hand quick enough to block a clothespin from hitting her face.

Meanwhile, Julian had made his way over to the group by the car. He felt like he should be trying to help them look for that little girl. Every person out there could make a difference in finding her or not. He would want people out there looking for his sister like this if he had any idea where she was.

“She might have gone further east than we’ve been so far,” Rick stated as he laid the map out in front of them.

“I’d like to help,” Jimmy spoke up first and Julian narrowed his eyes at the younger man. Hershel would kick his ass for trying. Jimmy was just a kid, but Julian was grown enough to make his own decisions. “I know the area pretty well and stuff.

“I think I know the area better than you, Jim,” Julian spoke quietly as he approached the group.

“Hershel’s okay with this?” Good question. Julian would like to believe Jimmy, but he couldn’t help but think the kid was full of shit trying to look cool in front of his girlfriend.

“Nothing about what Daryl found screams Sophia to me,” Shane spoke from the car.

Shane gave Julian the creeps. “They found Elizabeth Smart nine months after she went missing on pure chance of someone noticing the people who took her,” he remembered seeing something about it when he was younger and it just stuck with him. Shane might be a cop, but it seemed like he wasn’t too invested in the search.

“Whoever slept in that cupboard was no bigger than yay-high,” Daryl held his hand out to about elbow height. Definitely seemed like a little kid and unless Georgia was suddenly overflowing with feral children, Shane was full of shit.

“Maybe we’ll pick up her trail again,” Rick sounded hopeful.

“No maybe about it. I’m gonna borrow a horse,” Daryl pointed at the map. Hershel won’t be happy about that, Julian thought but didn’t speak. He didn’t want to get on the bad side of this guy.

“Good idea,” T-Dog spoke up, “Maybe you’ll see your Chupacabra up their too.” A short laugh echoed from behind Julian and he turned to see Dove, still perched on the picnic table, shake her head.

“Chupacabra,” Rick inquired.

“You never heard this,” Dale sighed. “Our first night in camp, Daryl tells us that the whole thing reminds him of a time he went squirrel hunting and he saw a Chupacabra.” Julian shuddered at the thought of the goat sucking monster; Jimmy laughed. Julian gave him a quick slap to the back of the head as Daryl spoke again.

“What are you braying at, Jackass?”

“You believe in a blood-sucking dog,” Jimmy questioned.

“You believe the dead walk,” Daryl sneered.

“He’s got you there, Jimbo,” Julian shrugged his shoulders as he rested his hand on the hood of the truck. Jimmy reached for a gun, man that kid was really trying it today.

“Why don’t you come train tomorrow,” Shane offered. “If you’re serious, I’m a certified instructor.”

Andrea spoke up, “For now, he can come with us.”

“If it’s alright, I’d like to go with Jimmy.” Julian turned his attention to Rick. He didn’t feel like going in a car with Shane. The last man to go with him somewhere didn’t exactly seem to fare too well. Even if it meant going with the woman that he didn’t really know and someone who’d made fun of someone for believing in a Chupacabra.

Rick nodded his head and held out his hand to the younger man, “Alright. Thanks for helping us, kid.”

“Julian, sir.”

“Rick is just fine,” the sheriff smiled a little.

“Right, sorry. Not used to bein too friendly to the police. But, no problem, Rick. It feels right to help. Just hope we find her,” Julian nodded his head. The others didn’t notice him tense up as he turned his attention away from the barn and focused on the search plan.

~

Dove let out a heavy sigh as she turned her attention from the parting group to the house. She couldn’t keep Carol waiting much longer or she might send out another search party for her. As she ascended the steps, Glenn caught her attention. He seemed out of it. “Yoo-hoo. Earth to Glenn,” Dove waved a hand at him.

The man jumped slightly as he turned his head to look at his friend. The smile on his face fell slightly as he realized who was standing in front of him. “Hey, Dove. You not heading out today?”

“Nah, decided I might as well tend to my womanly duties,” she flicked her hair behind her shoulder in an exaggerated manner. “You alright, bud? You see kind of out of it since you got back yesterday.” Dove frowned as she leaned against the post.

“I’m fine. Just…a lot going on in my head, you know,” Glenn smiled sadly as he rested his hand on the guitar in his lap.

A sly look was in Dove’s eye as she spoke. “Well channel all of that emotion into a song and I’m sure you can woo yourself a farmer’s daughter in no time,” she wiggled her eyebrows at him.

The blush that shot up into Glenn’s cheek answered any questions she might have had. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothin! Just that I think a blind man all the way in Korea can see what I’m talking about! But that’s none of my business,” she shrugged her shoulders and took a step closer to him. “But if you do happen to want to talk about it, just let me know! I’m your friend and I’ll always be here to listen. Plus, no better person to go to for girly advice than a girl.” She chuckled as she ruffled Glenn’s hair.

Glenn smiled at the woman as she took a step back towards the door, “Thanks…”

Dove thought that Hershel’s house was nice and she made sure to tell them so. “Well thank you,” Patricia nodded her head politely.

Dove bit her lip as she looked around the hallway. “I just want to thank you,” she turned her attention back to the older blonde. Her expression seemed to be unreadable. Something about these people was off to her. They all seemed nice, but something wasn’t right about any of them. “For letting us stay here while we look for our niece. It’s not something you have to do especially now, you don’t know any of us from those walkers in the streets.”

Patricia held up a hand to stop her, “It’s not a problem. I just want to make sure that Rick and Hershel have made it very clear to you…”

“Once we find Sophia, once Carl is good to roll, we’re gone,” Dove nodded her head. “But still. Thank you,” she smiled as she turned on her heel to walk into the kitchen. “Just hope you don’t mind your mashed potatoes with a little crisp,” she called as she entered the room, “I suck at cooking!”

Carol shook her head at her younger sister as Lori laughed. “You can measure the ingredients,” Carol patted her arm.

“Listen, we all have skills. I was not made to be a house wife,” Dove raised her hands in surrender. “You, however, were a better housewife than any man ever deserved.” She winked at her sister.

Slightly uncomfortable, Lori changed the subject quickly. “You know you weren’t made to be a housewife?” She looked over her shoulder at the younger brunette as she began to peel a potato.

“Sure do. I was a few months away from trying it out, but let’s just say I had to cancel the subscription before the free trial ended,” Dove popped a piece of carrot into her mouth.

Carol clicked her tongue disapprovingly, “Still think you were better off. He seemed unstable.”

“Who? Owen,” Dove questioned her sister with a raised eyebrow. Carol just turned her attention to her. Dove rolled her eyes as she picked up a bigger carrot and started to peel it. “I mean he was a little…quirky.”

Lori let out a small groan at this, “Honey, we all know what quirky means. Quirky is code for ‘you’re unstable but I love you’.” The older brunette elbowed Dove lightly.

Carol let out a quiet snort of laughter at this, “You got that right. The one time when we went up to visit, we stayed in DC so-”

Dove cut her off with a panicked laugh, “Alright listen, I get it! Owen was unstable and I have terrible taste in men, but it’s over now so…we don’t have to rehash that story! Alright.”

It was quiet in the kitchen for a moment before Lori whispered, “You’ll tell me later?”

“Oh, you bet,” Carol whispered back as Lori picked up a bucket to go collect more water.

“The hell you will,” Dove shouted as she picked up a carrot shaving and whipped it at her sister. “Be serious and cut up your god damn carrots,” Dove laughed and shook her head. Still, her thoughts went back to her life before everything went to shit. Actually, this was more like her life going to shit take two. Carol was right, she was way better off.

~

“Bout time you strolled on up here, Dixon.” Daryl’s attention snapped to the side, back to the direction of the farm.

“Hell do you want,” he snapped at the figure in front of him even though he knew she wasn’t real.

“Should really be getting home,” the figure spoke as she twirled a small pendant between her fingers. She wasn’t really there, but her hazel eyes stared right into his soul just like if she were there, “getting dark out.”

“Shut up,” Daryl snapped as he started stomping back towards the farm. The figure was a few steps ahead of him as he shuffled forward. “Don’t give a shit anyway.”

“Like you said. Merle wasn’t there for you, so why should you listen to him,” the voice was further ahead now and he glanced around before he spotted it a few yards ahead between the trees. “So man the fuck up and use you head for once, asshole.” When Daryl blinked, she was gone.

~

Dove had decided to take a break from the kitchen, but she didn’t seem to be able to find anyone that she wanted to see. Glenn seemed even more miserable than before, the other men were back without much news, and Daryl still wasn’t back yet. The last part made her feel uneasy. It was getting dark out. A creek on the porch made her turn her attention. “Julian, right? You find anything before,” she stepped towards him.

The young man lowered his binoculars before he shook his head, “Not a thing. Sorry. Maybe your friend found something?”

“Who?”

“The redneck guy. Daryl?”

Dove scoffed, “I don’t think that you can really say that me and Daryl are friends but…”

Andrea’s panicked shouts about a walker cut through the relative silence. Dove felt her pulse quicken and Julian shook his head, “we don’t get many walkers out this far.” He stepped quickly off the porch to help out and shoved the binoculars into Dove’s hand as he went.

Something in her gut told her to look through and when she did, the binoculars fell from her hand as she took off at a run. “Wait,” she shouted as she ran faster than she thought she had in years. She didn’t even realize how quick she was running until she was about halfway across the field.

“Is that Daryl,” Glenn said.

“Holy hell, man. You look like shit,” Julian shouted.

“That’s the third time you’ve pointed that thing at my head,” Dove heard Daryl reply and she slowed down to a walk as a relieved laugh left her lips. “You gonna pull the trigger or what?”

It was silent for a few moments as Dove continued to approach the group. Glenn turned and noticed her but as Dove opened her mouth to call out, a gunshot rang out. What left her throat instead was a panicked scream as adrenaline took over and she took off again. She didn’t even realize what she’d done until her knees hit the ground. Rick was screaming back at Andrea and there was blood on her hands. “Jesus Christ, what the fuck,” Dove turned her head back in the direction of camp before she turned her head back to the sight in front of her. “Dumb fucking bitch, cmon don’t be dead please.” Dove muttered as Rick dropped to the ground next to her. “She shot him in the fucking head,” Dove’s voice shook as she reached a shaking hand out and turned Daryl’s head slightly.

“Good thing she’s a bad shot,” Rick mumbled as Daryl let out a pained groan. His eyes fluttered open for a moment and Dove felt relieved as she realized that he might look out of it, but he wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t dead yet. A hand on her shoulder pulled her to her feet as Glenn wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

Glenn gave her shoulder a squeeze as they watched Rick and Shane haul Daryl to his feet. “I was kidding,” he growled before he passed out.

Anger flared through Dove as Andrea approached them asking if he was dead.

“He’s wearing ears,” Dove heard Glenn’s panicked voice over the pounding of her blood in her ears. Her gaze fell to T-Dog as she fought to control her anger. How could you be so stupid Rick told you not to do it, she raged internally. Even the sight of Sophia’s doll couldn’t calm her down. All she could think of was how, if Andrea had killed Daryl, they would never know where Sophia might be.

She reached a boiling point as they crossed over into camp. All of the bullshit thoughts and prayers about Sophia. All of the wanting to save people and act like she was big and tough. On top of losing Sophia, it was too much. “I’m so sorry,” she heard Andrea say again as Glenn finally released her arm.

“You’re sorry,” Dove rounded on the blonde woman. The few people who hadn’t rushed into the house froze, Carol put a hand over her mouth and shook her head. “You’re sorry that Sophia’s missing. You’re sorry that you wanted to blow yourself up. You’re sorry that you fucking almost killed the one person who might have the best shot at finding Sophia,” Dove’s voice was eerily calm as she stepped closer to the blonde.

“I thought he was a walker! I was just trying-,” but Andrea didn’t get to say what she was trying to do. There was a shout and all of a sudden, both women were on the ground. Dove only managed to land two punches to the woman before she was wrenched away from her.

“Bitch,” Dove shouted as she was pulled back towards the house. She watched with narrowed eyes as Dale helped Andrea back to the RV.

“Holy shit,” Julian mumbled as he held the squirming woman tighter as he tried to pull her towards the porch. It was quite a task, but once it was accomplished, he sat her in a chair and hurried off into the house.

Dove’s attention finally turned from the RV as she winced. A quick look down showed her that a cold washcloth was being placed on her knuckle by Carol. “You shouldn’t have done that,” Carol mumbled.

“Yeah well, she shouldn’t have shot someone,” Dove closed her eyes and shook her head.

There were quiet footsteps as she heard Carol walk back into the house. She sat like that for a while before the door creaked open. She opened her hazel eyes and her shoulders slumped as Rick walked out. The sheriff knelt next to the chair and she felt her shoulders tense as she waited for him to reprimand her.

“I’m not here to yell at you,” Rick sighed as he ran a hand down his face, “I very well should be for the stunt you pulled. I don’t wanna have to hear about you tryin to fight like that in front of my son like that. I’m sure you understand,” Rick glanced over at her.

Dove nodded her head before she turned her gaze over to Rick. “Sorry…I just got,” she took a deep breath, “I got real angry like I haven’t in a real long time.”

Rick frowned and nodded his head, “I understand the last few days have been real hard on you and Carol, so you don’t need me to be hard on you too.” Dove sat up a little straighter and faced Rick fully. “But I just wanted you to know that Daryl’s just fine. He’s resting, we didn’t tell him that you punched Andrea.” She raised an eyebrow. “I think that’s a discussion that you should be able to have by yourself. But he did tell us where he found Sophia’s doll. Pointed it out on a map and everything so we have an even better grid to look for her,” Rick smiled and Dove felt the corner of her mouth quirk up into a smile.

“Thank you, Rick,” Dove whispered.

“Not a problem,” Rick patted her arm.

Dove moved the washcloth from her hand and flexed her knuckles, “Guess it’s best if I don’t sit next to Andrea at dinner, huh,” she joked and Rick chuckled quietly.

“I would advise you not to do that. Just in case,” he rose to his feet and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I want you to know that I’m gonna do my best to find her. I promise.”

_

@crossbowking​ @momc95​ @chaotic-gary-king-stan​

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #Daryl DIxon fic #daryl x oc #daryl dixon x oc #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #The Walking Dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #twd #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #rick grime #lori grimes #carl grimes #my writing

[sadaveniren]

Annual Writing Evaluation 2020

Ssssssh I know it’s the beginning of January. I’m late. I was tagged by @daggerandrose​ and @lululawrence​ to do this. They were two slightly different ones so I just... Mashed them together. Whoops

1. List of Stories published this year: Did you let him leave a necklace (yup)

Fellowship of Eroda

Can we pretend (honestly reality bores me)

Tastes like strawberries

Just for tonight (I can be yours)

Fun time candles

The animals play

Knife’s edge

You’re outta control (what is your mind)

When you’re good to mama (he surprises you)

One shot two shot (you and me)

Clean up, clean up (everybody have some fun)

So wonderful and warm

Here comes the men in black (my soulmate)

Here to stay (here to play)

The happiest season

2. Word count posted for the year: 161,374 (jfc)

3. Fandoms I wrote for: One Direction

4. Pairings: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

5. Story with the most:

Kudos: Taste Like Strawberries

Bookmarks: Just For Tonight (I can be yours)

Comments: The Happiest Season

6. Work I’m most proud of (and why):  That’s tough. I know in another post I was like EVERY FIC I POSTED WAS A VICTORY and that’s true. I think I’m most proud of Here to Stay (here to play) because for an entire month every night I sat down and wrote start to finish a whole fic. Sure some of those Fics were 400 words but listen... I come from fandom of old where there were the 100 fic challenges and even trying to write 100 word Drabbles is HARD. You’re making a whole story every day and it felt good! I felt accomplished!!

7. Work I’m least proud of (and why): I really really wish Here Comes the Men in Black (my soulmate) had come out different. I had much bigger plans and they got scrapped and I just. Wish things had gone different. But I was writing it as I struggled with the dreaded 4 month sleep regression which lasted TWO WHOLE FUCKING MONTHS AND I DID NOT GET MORE THAN 4 HOURS OF SLEEP AT A TIME FOR TWO WHOLE MONTHS AND GOD IT WAS THE WORST SLEEP DEPRIVATION IS A SERIOUS HEALTH CONDITION. So the biggest thing to fall away during that time was my writing. And that fic sadly suffered because of it 😔

8. Share or describe a favorite review you received: Every reviewer who commented during Kinktober and said that they weren’t usually a fan of the kink of the day but they trusted me enough to give the chapter a shot. A special shoutout to those who tried the rape fantasy chapter because of that trust.

A special SPECIAL shoutout to the asshole who asked me to tag every time I wrote girl direction for kinktober and told me they refused to read any of the chapters on the off chance I surprised them with a vagina or something.

9. A time when writing was really, really hard: Literally all fucking year. March-April-May was a particularly fuzzy time for me. I think any writing I got done was on my phone, half asleep, with my fingers cramping

10. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: Louis in Fellowship to Eroda was a lot of fun to write. That fic overall was really fun to write because I got to include a lot of DND stuff and some of my favorite dialogue was there.

11. A favorite excerpt of your writing: From You’re Outta Control (what is your mind)

“You wanna ride daddy’s cock?”

The train was barreling along and Harry knew he didn’t have much time to make his decision. He quickly nodded.

Louis made quick work of unzipping his fly and turning Harry around so his back was facing his chest. He pulled him back by his hips and settled him down on his cock.

They both moaned at the sensation, and being so exposed. And then they started to fuck. It was wild, erratic, and desperate.

“Just think,” Louis groaned, “if I had an alpha cock. How we wouldn’t be able to do this if I knotted you.” Harry’s breath caught and he wiggled his hips. “Or maybe we would. You stuck on my knot through fuck knows how many stops. People coming and going. Seeing you there. Squirming like a little slut.”

Harry gasped. His mouth hung open as he tried to suck in air and ride Louis’ cock at the same time.

“Louder,” Louis demanded. His voice was beginning to sound strained. “Want your moans to fill up the whole car.”

It took effort but Harry was helped along when Louis reached around and wrapped his fingers around his cock. Then he moaned and it echoed in the empty train car.

“That’s right. Fucking yourself on daddy’s omega cock. So much better than some alpha’s knot isn’t it?”

“Daddy,” Harry whined. He bounced faster, eyes closed. He knew if he didn’t come before the next stop he wouldn’t be able to stop and anyone who came onto the car would see.

“Think how much come you’d have to hide if I was some alpha. It would leak out. Drip onto the floor.” Harry gasped. He was so close and his cunt squeezed around Louis’ cock as he tried to pull Louis with him. “Instead you’ll be pumped full of my omega seed-“ Louis’ voice cut off as he came, pulling Harry down flush against his hips as he came in him.

Harry watched as his own cock squirted come onto the floor and he cried out in embarrassment and lust.

The train was still running as they both caught their breath and it only started to slow down for the next stop as Louis edged Harry off of his cock. Harry could feel the mix of his slick and Louis’ come starting to slide out of him as Louis pushed him to the ground.

“Clean daddy off,” Louis said. His fingers tangled in Harry’s hair as he pulled Harry’s mouth to his slick covered cock.

The train was slowing down. Harry’s heart was pounding in his chest as he got to his knees. He caught Louis’ eye. The lights from the station were starting to filter in through the window. Louis squeezed his fingers in his hair.

“What are you waiting for? These are expensive trousers and I don’t want your slick ruining them.” Harry could see the stain his slick had already left around the zipper of Louis’ trousers. “Clean me off.”

They jolted to a stop and the doors hissed open. Harry wrapped his mouth around Louis’ cock, licking him clean. He spread his legs as Louis’ come leaked out of him and onto the floor.

The doors dinged, singling they were closing and Louis pulled his mouth off of him. Harry stared up at him from where he was kneeling on the ground and Louis smiled.

“There’s a good omega. Come sit up next to me.”

Harry looked around. The car was still empty. His entire body sagged from adrenaline and he turned to kiss Louis. “We would have been in so much trouble if we’d been caught.”

12. How did you grow as a writer this year: I lost…. a lot of fucks. I used to agonize about the fics I put out, and I still did, but this year I waded through writing a lot of stuff that normally I wouldn’t just because I didn’t feel ~motivated~ that day. But between Kinktober, and my advent fic, and just, forcing myself to finish fics even when I felt uninspired, I produced a lot more than I planned and that’s really important to me! But it also means that I learned to let fics go a lot earlier.

13. How do you hope to grow next year: Continue to just… write. I don’t have any big things I want to work on. Maybe crafting overall non-romantic plots? I’m trying that out for my big bang…. we’ll see how that goes.

14. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc): @lululawrence​ and @londonfoginacup are literally my rocks in writing at this point. They were so helpful while I cried about not being able to finish any fics ever, and reminded me constantly to be kind to myself. Jenna and @becomeawendybird were also just so so encouraging and I think without them I would be absolutely lost.

15. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year: lol. Yes. Next.

16. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: write smut horny, edit after. (or don’t like… fuck it no one reading your smut is gonna care when they’re getting off to it)

17. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: I’m focused on my big bang which I hope people will enjoy. And then… Man if I could finish my eternal WIP that would be EXCELLENT. But who knows!! Maybe a plot bunny will hit me.

18. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read. I think everyone has done this cause I’m late. Whoops.

#meme #my writing

[myhauntedsalem]

13 Creepy Camping Encounters That Will Put You off the Great Outdoors

1. The Crying Girl

“When I was younger probably like 10 or 11, I went camping with my family. I’ll just get right into it. It was about 1 or 2 in the morning, and I couldn’t really sleep. The tent me and my brother were in was really hot, and very uncomfortable. Anyway, while I was trying to go to bed I heard a very faint whimper. I tried to ignore it because I figured I was just tired. Our campsite was along a road with many other camps nearby. The whimper started to get louder, and then turned into crying. I heard footsteps outside of our tent, and a girl crying.

Now let me tell you, it didn’t go faint, it got louder and louder. It remained in the same spot the entire time. That’s so important because, it indicates that she was looking at our tent site, crying. It gets worse, then it turned into a full on scream for a few seconds, then cuts out. When she started screaming by brother woke up. We both look at each other and just get all the pillows and stuff our head under them.

I couldn’t sleep at all that night. I’m just glad we left the next morning.” – Keithic

2. The Shaking

“This happened to an acquaintance of mine and his son. This took place back in the early ’90s.

He had taken his young son for a father and son type hike out of Skagway. If any of you are familiar with Skagpatch, there is quite a network of trails above town at lower Dewey lakes.

So, it’s evening, dinner done, tent up, bed time. Sometime later, around midnight, he’s woken up by the tent shaking violently, then silence. Then again. Keep in mind its late August, and pitch black, I mean as pitch black as you can get under the heavy coastal rain forest with no moon.

This shaking kept up for over an hour. He had no idea what it was. He went out with his headlamp, yelled, and heard nothing. Would go back in the tent, then it would start up again. He could here footsteps whenever it happened.

He was pretty shaken up by the next morning as you could imagine.

He reported it to the troopers, and the only thing they could come up with was someone with a night vision set up messing around. Or something else…” – Yukoner

3. The Middle of the Woods

“This happened to me when I was little. I went camping with my older brother and my mom. I was about 7 or 8 and I went to bed around 10 in a sleeping bag inside my tent with both my mom and brother. Some time during the night, I don’t know when, I woke up somewhere in the middle of the woods still in my sleeping bag. I had no idea where I was or where my tent was. I screamed for my mom and I heard her calling back for me in panic but she was easily 100 yards away or so. To this day I have no idea how I ended up in the middle of the woods still inside my sleeping bag. Gives me the chills.” – cckaufmann

4. The Hanging Man

“Hiking the Appalachian Trail in Pennsylvania for a week in…2006 and my brother and I came across a young man who had hung himself. We sprinted up to the bluff where he was strung up. I wrapped my arms around his waist to take weight off his neck while my brother cut him down with his Leatherman. He had thrown the rope up over a tall branch and lashed it off with a clove hitch at the trunk like you’d hang a bear-bag. Must’ve climbed the branches and dropped once laced in. We probably shouldn’t have even tried, he was dead for sometime before we happened across him. Fortunately no critters had come to tear him apart before we found him, it would’ve only gotten grislier from there. Called 911. Ended our trip pretty damn quick.

I don’t know why we tried, it was very obvious he had been dead for some time. Don’t know how long, he was very cold and smelled pretty bad. Intuition to help someone and adrenaline that clouds your judgement I guess? It was kind of a fucked up day so I don’t really remember my thought process.” – Anonymous

5. Scratches

“About one month ago, we are riding a favorite trail up near Camp Verde. Oldest son is leading, youngest is following him, a friend behind him and I am sucking up rear. Come over a hill and I see my youngest son with all of his gear off and his jersey. I came up asking what was wrong, thinking that he crashed, He said his back was burning. I looked and there were three scratches across his back. Looked like claw marks. No blood, but very distinct. He had a chest/back protector on so there is no way a tree branch or anything got him. We finally got him geared back up and headed out. About 30 minutes later, we reached a spot where we always stop for a break. I asked him to take the jersey off so that I could see the scratches again. They were completely gone.” – THB

6. Music in the Night

“A couple of years ago my brother bought a large piece of land out in the middle of nowhere, about thirty miles or so from cell phone reception. It’s quiet, there is no light pollution, no paved roads, and not a lot of people around.

Shortly after he bought the place, two of my brothers (the land owner and another), me, and our families spent a weekend camping on the land and doing our best to clean it up; people had used it as a dump, there were many downed trees, etc. On the second night we camped there, I woke up in the middle of the night to take a leak. As I was walking to the bushes in the dark, I realized that I could faintly hear music. This didn’t strike me as odd because I knew my brother had a radio in his camper. I finished up and went back to sleep with no further thought on the matter.

The next morning at breakfast, I mentioned the radio and music. Several other people recalled waking in the night and hearing music, but no two people heard the same music. Finally, the brother who brought the radio woke up. I asked him about the music and he seemed a bit freaked out. He woke up sometime during the night and went outside to smoke. He heard music as well and had assumed it was someone else. I should mention that he was the only one with a generator and a radio. It wasn’t his radio we heard, it wasn’t anyone else’s either.

I’ve been back several times, but I’m a bit freaked out by that place at night. I have fun while I’m there, but I’m almost always armed and I don’t sleep in a tent anymore, I sleep in my SUV with the doors locked. It may seem kinda dumb, but realizing that everyone heard different music when there are no people, no functional radios, and no electricity is quite creepy.” – goat-of-mendes

7. The Light

“We were in a river-side cabin one night in Northern Michigan. I had just stretched out when a huge crack erupted from the woods. Both of us thought it was a branch or old tree that had fallen.

After he turned off the living room light, we noticed that the light coming from the windows was abnormally strong. This sent our nerves to a new high. The light seemed to pulse several times and got so bright at one point you could have read a book by it. It couldn’t have been a car as we were almost a mile off the road on a dirt trail. Plus, the light came in from all the windows equally.

Every so often we would hear a strange humming noise that penetrated that cabin. This lasted almost half an hour. We talked about just running out to the car and leaving but neither one of us wanted to go outside.

After the light went out, we sat on the couch, occasionally putting forth theories on what it could have been. Around four o’clock in the morning, there was another loud crack. We worried that the light might come back but nothing happened.” – R. Bassil

8. Blue Spectre

“My friend and I were walking just outside of the circle of cabins. It was a bright night with all the stars shining and the moon was well lit. There was a campfire going, and in one of the big cabins there was a party going on with music and so on. We were walking, and we both got a really weird feeling, as if we were being watched. We both turned toward the sea… we saw a blue figure, very tall – about 7 feet – walking through the trees. It made no sound at all. It was a bright blue and glowing figure walking through the forest. It was emitting a shimmery aura, and my friend and I both became very frightened. We shouted at whatever that thing was and we were asking it what it was. We got no reply, of course, but we expected one. We stared as it walked away and out of our vision; we didn’t dare follow it.

We then ran back to the group of people at the camp fire, screaming and describing what we saw. Another friend of mine claimed he was watching it from a distance not far from were we were and was just as frightened as I was.” – Devin

9. Footsteps Upstairs

“Not something I experienced, but my sister and her husband did.

My family used to have a cabin on a lake in the Northwoods. It’s a lake with no public access. On the other side is/was an old Girl’s Camp that the state was letting fall apart. The camp had a large, two-story main house that was mostly intact at the time.

My sister and her husband decided to check out the camp one day. They canoe’d over and started to walk around. They went into the Main House first. They walked around for a bit. And then they heard heavy footsteps upstairs. These footsteps turned into someone running heavily towards the stairs.

My sister and her husband booked it out of the house, but they could hear the steps coming down the stairs and on the main level as they ran out. They opted to run around the house instead of heading back to the shore.

They never saw who it was, but they heard them enter back into the house. And then they heard them storm back outside again. They went into the woods this time and heard someone running in the woods after them.

They took the long way around the lake back to the cabin.

My dad and I had to go back later that day to get the canoe. We never heard or saw anything.” – joftheinternet

10. Geocaching

“I’ve been geocaching in the woods many times, and occasionally one runs into caches with weird things in them. The creepiest was an ammo box with only a handful of finds that contained broken doll parts and a handwritten note that said “Look behind you”. I definitely had the heebie-jeebies and double-timed it back to my car despite it being the middle of the day. It’s crossed my mind before that geocaching would be a great way for a serial killer to lure people out to remote locations.” – Anonymous

11. Who Followed Us?

“This happened in 81 or 82. Not sure anymore.

I had made friends with a fellow I worked with and offered to take him gigging for frogs. He was from the city and had never spent any time in the woods at night. The farm I had permission to do it on was only about a mile from my place. My friend showed up at 10:30 or so and I gave him a gig and a flashlight. We decided to walk to the other farm. We didn’t get far before we both heard something walking in the dark to the side of us. I’ve been in the woods all my life and I’ve had plenty of deer follow me but I wasn’t going to tell him that. It was clear he was getting spooked. We climbed a fence and continued on. Then we heard something else climb the fence.

Deer don’t climb fences. I tried looking around with the flashlight but he wanted none of it. We could see the house lights of the place we were going to and he ran off on me and beat on the guy’s door until they let him in. By the time I got there Mr. Barber, (the land owner), and his wife was out on the porch and wanted to know what was going on. Mr. Barber and I went back and had a look around but found nothing. My friend refused to walk back and Mr. Barber gave us a ride back to my place. We never did find out what or who it was that was following us.

My friend decided that frogging wasn’t for him. He has also refused to go on several fishing trips I have invited him to. I can’t say I was too comfortable with what happened but I haven’t let it stop me from frogging.” – Smoker

12. The Circle

“I was backpacking in New Hampshire and camped out for the night after a day hike. I wondered off from our fire to go take a piss and stumbled upon a circle etched into the ground with tuning forks surrounding the circle standing up straight…It looked like a creepy ritual circle and it bugged me out so I booked it back to the group.” – ITS_A_BADTIME_BOB

13. The Gator

“Few years ago I was camping in the Everglades in Florida with a few friends. We all had gone into our separate tents and were starting to fall asleep. The area was pretty noisy with bugs, crickets, birds, etc. I heard this very low vibration, sounding almost like a low roar. it was powerful enough to vibrate in my chest. Suddenly everything in the forest shut up. no bugs, no birds, nothing. about thirty seconds later my phone vibrates and its my friend in the other tent texting me asking if i heard the same thing. the four of us kept texting each other, wondering what it was. about ten minutes later all the animals slowly started making noise again. I slept that night with my machete at arms reach.

A lot of people are saying it might have been a gator. We were in an elevated area that was far from any streams or ponds. Its possible there might have been a pond with a gator that we missed, but the very big ones tend to hang out in lakes.” – Biggs180

#13 Creepy Camping Encounters That Will Put You off the Great Outdoors #shared stories #paranormal #ghost and hauntings #ghost and spirits

[marvelofcontent]

May the Fourth Be With You (Peter Parker x Stark!Reader)

Summary  You and Peter are huge Star Wars Fans. Always have been, always will be. After Thanos and Mysterio had their fun, you finally get to enjoy your senior year of high school, but things have changed between you and Peter. What plans are in store for the pair of you now that senior year is coming to a close? Word Count 2677 Warnings This is a nerdy fluffy piece to celebrate Star Wars Day, so some Star Wars references are included, but nothing too obscure. This story was posted after May Fourth because I thought of this late and I suck at updating. To all of my Star Wars fans, May the Fourth Be With You!

Peter Benjamin Parker loves Star Wars. When the boy your father had recruited boarded the jet and sat by Happy, you made a metal note to talk to him once you finished reading your book, only a few chapters from the end. Mid-flight, you made your way over and took the empty seat in front of him nonchalantly.

“You’re Peter, right? I’m y/n,” you said gently, offering him a small smile. He returned it and nodded. The two of you struck some conversation before quieting down to a comfortable silence. You busied yourselves with your phones, your eyes only peeking up when Peter started to fidget in his seat, a wide smile on his face. 

“You look happy,” you commented, looking him over for a moment. He reacted by stiffening and ducking his eyes awkwardly, reluctantly turning his screen off.

“Oh no, it’s stupid,” he tried to brush off, but your curiosity had already taken root.

“Couldn’t have been stupid to bring on a smile like that. Come on, what is it?” You inched closer, on the edge of your seat. When he glanced up and saw your poised determination, he let out a nervous huff and reopened his phone.

“Oh nothing, just…there are new pictures from the set of The Last Jedi. Just some nerdy-”

“Wait, really? Can I see?” His eyes widened as you got up and sat beside him, excitement in your eyes.

“Wait, you like Star Wars?”

“Like Star Wars? Are you kidding? I love Star Wars. My dad helped me build a pencil sharpener R2D2 a few years ago.” To your surprise, he let out a warm laugh and turned his body in your direction.

“I can’t imagine the Tony Stark fiddling over a pencil sharpener.”

“The man can’t follow a set of instructions for his life. Iron Man insisted he was right and the little motor almost blew because he put the gears in the wrong places and the blades upside down,” you giggled, remembering the way you hid behind a pillow when it started to screech. In that moment, Peter took a better look at you and smiled wider, suddenly feeling inexplicably comfortable with you. The rest of the flight, you passed the time by talking about Star Wars and other interests you shared going beyond the sci-fi galaxy, and you became inseparable even after the events in Berlin.

-8 Years Later-

A lot had changed since that jet ride. Since the fight in Berlin, the Avengers disbanded and went their separate ways, you enrolled as a junior at Midtown School of Science and Technology, Spiderman became New York’s favorite local crime fighter, and Thanos came and wiped out half of the universe. You and Peter died in space, your true feelings and goodbyes lost with you as you dusted away. You both returned five years later only to lose Tony Stark, father and mentor. The year that followed was difficult, the loss of your father weighing down on both of you. You stopped talking about the things that made you happy, like Star Wars and sketching, and focused on the somber aspects of life. The world fell on both your shoulders and the most support you had was each other. When you went on the class trip to Europe, all you wanted was a chance to enjoy life experiences as a teenager again.

Quentin Beck almost stole that opportunity away from you when he brought the Elementals to life as pieces in his revenge plot. He would have killed you and ruined your trip if it hadn’t been for your best friend in the spider suit. By the end of the trip, Peter had saved you, and he made the trip worth it when he gave you a bracelet with a glass shooting star charm and confessed his feelings for you, sharing a gentle kiss on the bridge.

Life went on when you came home, but things became manageable. Stark Industries was rising again, you were finding your place in your family, and senior year finally came, much to everyone’s relief. To top it all off, Peter was with you through it all, not only as your best friend and fellow crime fighting superhero, but as your loving and supportive boyfriend. As the year started coming to a close, you noticed that MJ and Betty had been adamant about keeping you busy everyday afterschool. Between decathlon leadership meetings, student council sessions, and emergency study groups, you stopped walking home with Peter and the guilt started eating at you. 

One afternoon with the girls, you let out a frustrated huff and threw Betty a wide eyed glance of disbelief.

“Betty, we went over this concept yesterday! I thought you were feeling better about it?” 

“I was, but then Dr. Gammon did a few problems in class and I got lost again,” your friend justified, twirling her hair with her fingers as she focused on the book before you. Quickly glancing at your phone, you let out a sigh. You had been studying for hours and the sun would be going down soon, a late night patrol waiting for you. 

“MJ, can you give this a shot? Maybe you can explain it better,” you asked as you checked your phone notifications. Nothing.

“Sure. Let me see-”  she was cut off by a chime coming from her phone. Lightening fast, she pulled her phone out and proceeded to stand in the middle of the room, typing furiously. You found it odd that she paused so suddenly, but brushed it off as you started to pack your bag.

“I should get going, so I’ll see you guys-”

“Wait!” MJ shouted, her head snapping up suddenly. You were taken aback by her volume and gave her a worried look. You could see her look at Betty from the corner of her eye. “There’s something I want to talk to you about before you go.”

“Oh…okay,” you replied, setting your bag back down on the floor. “What is it?” She came over and sat beside you on the bed.

“Has everything been alright?” You tilted your head, mildly confused by the question.

“I…guess. Why?”

“You just seem on edge all the time. Stressed almost,” she pressed a bit. You shrugged.

“Well, there’s been a lot going on. We keep having decathlon leadership stuff-”

“We have to train the new kids before we go,” MJ pointed out gently.

“Right, but I think they’re ready. They seem tired of us nagging them. One of these days, Daisy’s going to actually stab herself instead of looking like she wants to. And student council keeps having pointless meetings-”

“We have to finalize all of the end of the year activities and their details,” Betty defended herself, her attention on the two of you.

“We did not need to spend an hour on choosing the balloon colors for the senior banquet. We ended up with blue and gold like we’d originally planned anyways!”

“I guess I was asking more if everything is alright outside of school,” MJ redirected, shooting Betty a tiny glare.

“…I feel like I’m so busy with school that I’ve barely gotten any one-on-one time with Peter.” You missed the glance they gave one another. “I just feel like such a bad girlfriend, ya know? And I think he’s mad at me over it. He’s been avoiding me in between classes and he hasn’t texted me in days-” MJ’s chime interrupted you again. As you continued, she was fixated on the message, typing back immediately and you felt so betrayed. “MJ, this is serious!” She seemed to have sent her message because she snapped her head back up and looked at you with sorry eyes.

“Sorry. But I’m sure everything’s okay. Has he asked you to prom yet?” At the mention of the dance, you let out a pained groan and threw yourself back in the bed, your heart aching a bit from disappointment

“No, he hasn’t. He’s been avoiding me, remember?”

“Maybe he’s waiting for the right moment,” Betty reassured. Before you could respond, your phone started to ring, Peter’s contact picture popping up. “Take it as a sign of good luck,” she winked before returning to her work. You reluctantly picked up the call, putting the speaker to your ear.

“Peter?”

“Hey! What are you up to right now?” You let out a small sigh of relief. He sounded excited rather than upset or on edge.

“Studying with Betty and MJ. I was actually about to head out,” you replied, grabbing your bag again and packing the last of your things as he spoke.

“Listen, I know you have patrol tonight, but would you like to come over for dinner?” You looked at the time and sighed, knowing it would be late when you left the Parker household.

“I don’t know, Pete-”

“May’s making your favorite.” He was trying to be convincing and to your dismay, it was working. You bit your lip, thinking the offer over. “Please, y/n? I miss you.” His words tugged at your guilty heart and you caved, practically hearing his pout.

“Okay. I’ll head over now.”

“Great! See you soon!” He was quick to hang up much to your surprise. Glancing back at the girls, you shrugged at their expectant stares.

“He seems to be in a good mood, so maybe it’s not so bad,” you said gently, trying not to let yourself get too excited.

“Shouldn’t you be leaving? He’s expecting you,” Betty encouraged, waving you off.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“We’ll manage. Get out of here, y/n. Before Peter comes to grab you,” MJ teased, giving you a friendly nudge as you finally shouldered your bag. Giving them one last goodbye, you headed out, a bit of pep in your step as you thought of spending some time with Peter. Quickly climbing up the apartment stairwell, you paused in front of their door and gently took the note that was left taped up. Y/n, it read. I had to run out to grab some things for dinner tonight. Let yourself in. Peter should be in his room. You saw May’s signature at the bottom and gently opened the door, quickly closing the door behind you. The living room would have been pitch black if not for the tea lights creating a path on the floor. Confused by the detail, you slowly followed them down the hall, your footsteps creaking on the wood. The lights stopped in front of Peter’s closed door, so you instinctively knocked and winced at the harshness of the sound. When you opened the door, your eyes went wide, simply standing in the frame as the door opened wider. In front of his windows, you saw a sheet with swirling galaxy projections on it, the stars shining all over the walls and ceiling. They lit the room enough for you to see Peter standing in the middle of the empty room with a rose in his hands. Before you could say anything though, he sidestepped and got down on one knee to reveal a life size legos replica of R2D2 holding a sign with your name on it. Stepping closer, you gasped and covered your mouth with your hands.

“Out of all the girls in the Galaxy, Yoda Obi-Wan for me,”  Peter said out loud. “It’s been a rough few years for us, but you didn’t leave me Solo and you saved me from the Dark Side. I may not be a Skywalker, but y/n?”

“Yes?” you answered giddily, anticipation rising as he turned the sign over.

“Will you BB my d8 to prom?” he asked, word for word vocalizing the sign’s message. Unable to keep the smile off your face, you nodded quickly and waited for him to rise to his feet before launching yourself into his arms and hugging him tightly.

“Of course I will, Peter!” you whispered excitedly, your face pressing into his neck. Your eyes were prickling slightly with tears from the sheer joy as you felt him press kisses to the top of your head. You pulled back just enough to gently raise your hands to his cheeks and look him in the eyes. “I would love to go to prom with you.” His hand rose to rest against the nape of your neck, gently twirling your hair and drawing circles on your skin. He leaned in and sweetly pressed his lips to yours. When you pulled apart a few moments later, he leaned back slightly, arms wrapping around your waist.

“Did you get all of this, Karen?”

“Video saved.” Realizing he had recorded your moment, you jokingly hit his shoulder and shot him an incredulous look. “Sorry, but MJ and Betty would kill me if they didn’t get to see this.” At the mention of their names, your jaw dropped.

“Wait a minute, they were in on this?”

“And Ned. Once R2D2 got too big to hide easily, I asked for his help to assemble it and begged them to keep you busy.” The cheeky tone in his voice made you scrunch your nose and you tried to process his words, but shook your head.

“Too big to...how long have you been planning this?” Pulling the rose out from behind you, he pulled you in closer and offered it to you.

“Since that day in London. When we survived the whole Beck thing and kissed on the bridge, I promised you that I would ask you to prom and it would be out of this world.”

“But you never promised me anything. Up until your call earlier, I thought you were upset with me and I didn’t think you were going to ask.”

“It was still a promise to you, whether you knew it or not,” he whispered. You took the rose from him and smiled shyly, carefully dipping your nose into the petals to smell the flower.

“That was an awful lot of work for a promposal,” you teased quietly, your eyes gazing up at him through your eyelashes.

“You’re worth it.” Pressing a quick kiss to your lips one more time, he pulled you into a hug. Your heart swelled as you nuzzled into him, only for your happy thoughts to be interrupted by Karen.

“Peter, what should I do with the video?”

“Save it and send it to MJ, Betty, Ned, and May.”

“Okay. Video sent.”

“Speaking of May, where is she?” you asked, not bothering to pull away from the embrace.

“She went to grab some carryout from that Thai place you love. She should be back-” Suddenly, you heard the front door open and the lights turned on in the living room, glowing down the hall.

“I’m so happy she said yes!” May squealed as you heard her struggling with the bags of food.

“Right about now,” Peter chuckled. He pulled away and went to walk around you, but a thought occurred to you and you reached for his arm.

“Hey Pete?” He looked back at you. “Where’s all your furniture? The room’s empty.” He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

“It’s a funny story actually. Scott helped me shrink it all for the promposal, so everything’s in a basket in my closet. Don’t worry though; I have until midnight before everything grows back to normal size.” Shaking your head in disbelief, you simply slid your hand into his and followed him into the living room.

Dinner with the Parkers that night was great. May made a few embarrassing comments and flustered both of you, but it was just her way of showing her excitement. As you would find out the next day when the video played on a loop during Betty’s school news coverage, your friends loved to show their support through embarrassment too. Did you still love them though? Of course. You had so many people who loved you and you were grateful for them, even when they were at their weirdest. As Peter dorkily pointed out, you were Wookie to have them.

#spiderman #spiderman x stark!reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman x oc #spiderman x stark!oc #peter parker x reader #peter parker x oc #peter parker x stark! reader #peter parker x stark!oc #peter parker x stark!reader #maytheforcebewithyou #Marvel MCU #mcu fandom