#can you od on cough drops???

[unsurebazookacore]

bish take an off from school, this is god

well I don’t believe in god so HAH

[theantichrists-blog]

You giving head under the table

!!! NSFW !!!

Shoyo Hinata:

- - > He blushes so much at you

- - > ULTIMATE SUB

- - > he’s somewhat vocal, he likes to whimper with his hand over his face

- - > If he gets cocky he will push your head down further

- - > “Y-y/n- G-od you feel so good” he responds, letting some moans spill out of his lips as he tries to keep his mouth shut

- - > he stutters a lot, most people could tell what’s going on

- - > he has a habit of tilting his head back

Tobio Kagayama:

- - > He blushes so much at your action and instantly places a hand on your head, ruffling his fingers through your hair so he has control

- - > “B-Boke!” he says while trying to hold back his moans

- - > his eyes like to roll back

- - > He isn’t very vocal until you lick the bottom of his dick

- - > he loves to push your head down but if you ask him not to he won’t

- - > Dom unless you can get to tease him but if you do that’s your grave your digging

Kei Tsukishima:

- - > He has a bad habit of bucking his hips

- - > He loves it when you place your hands on his thighs while giving

- - > “Pips-squeak.. Keep going please”

- - > this will be the only time you hear him say please

- - > Surprisingly a switch

Kōshi Sugawara:

- - > Blushy little boy

- - > He’s a dom when you tease him but usually he’s a sub

- - > “My l-little dove” he says as he pushes your head down further, and with his other hand he caresses your jawline

- - > full on 10’, 10.5’ if you really get him up

Daichi Sawamura:

- - > He will bite the back of his hand to cover up his whimpers

- - > Dom until you do this to him

- - > “ D-Doll.. Please be gentle” He says as he caressed your cheek, and his other hand covering his face

- - > he lives for when you lick the underside of his cock

Yū Nishinoya:

- - > He’s vocal but he mostly grunts when you do this (you’ve done it before)

- - > He’s a switch but more than half the time a soft dom

- - > “N/nnie~” you hear Noya whine while his head faces at his paper

- - > loves it when you suck the tip

Asahi Azumane:

- - > When i tell you this boy blushes and barely makes noise, I MEAN HE BLUSHES AN-

- - > total sub, he loves it when you ride him

- - > “O-Oh go-od” you hear Asahi cough out, his hair almost falling out of his bun. Asahi placed his hand through your hair.

- - > all you need to do is just be gentle and slow with him

Tetsurō Kuroo:

- - > Kuroo is usually vocal, but this, he coughs when he almost moans

- - > you are in trouble if you do this to him, he is total dom, he’s in charge

- - > “M-mm~ Kitten~” you hear Kuroo grunt out lowly, his hand cupping his mouth to muffle himself

- - > this boy loves to receive, just wait til he gives you some, that tongue works wonders

Morisuki Yaku:

- - > He may be short but THIS MAKES UP FOR IT

- - > he’s a switch, what else did you expect from him?

- - > all you hear is a low groan come from him, “I-I’m gonna cum” come out of his lips faintly, only to where you could hear

- - > get ready to chug that

Kenma Kozume :

- - > sassy boy, he loves control

- - > dom, with enough begging he will be a sub but other than that he’s a dom

- - > “Y-you just love my attention don’t you?~” You hear kenma whisper to you as he lays his head down on his desk

- - > he a big boy

Kōtarō Bokuto:

- - > VOCAL VOCAL VOCAL I SAY

- - > this boy will just pick you up and walk out to rail you- i mean what?-

- - > “My little owl~ your taking me so well~” you hear Bokuto whisper out as he laces his fingers in between your hair

- - > he loves caressing your cheek when you give him a blow

Yūji Terushima:

- - > now i wouldn’t have taken him to be one to be a little blushy boy

- - > switch, sub sometimes because he’s to lazy but dom when he wins a match or loses

- - > “o-oh your mouth feels so good around me~” you hear Yūji say to you

- - > expect a vibrating tongue piercing from him in the near future

Shinsuke Kita:

- - > his face DROPS, did not expect this

- - > dom, imma just say it briefly

- - > “mmm~” you hear from Kita, that low groan from him as you hum around him making him shiver in pleasure

- - > look all you have to do to make him cum so fast is hum, or place your hands on his thighs

Atsumu Miya:

- - > vocal, Vocal, VOCAL

- - > now i haven’t seen someone more of a sub than him-

- - > “A-ah Y/nnieee~ be careful~” you hear the twin say as you suck on his tip

- - > fun fact he wants to have a threesome with you and his brother to see you get your holes filled- what- uhm nothing!

Rintarō Suna:

- - > his eyes roll to the back of his head while he leaves his head back- like you can see it

- - > Switch, only because he’s a lazy fuck but sometimes he has the motivation

- - > “j-just like that~” you hear Suna mumble, you hear his voice rumble to where you can feel it in your mouth

- - > He is huge, making you gag with tear streams down your face, mascara messed up- ok i need to stop

Osamu Miya:

- - > LOVES THIS

- - > total dom, he’s the opposite of his brother, he loves to fuck you

- - > “take it all in baby~” you hear the Miya whisper lightly to when’re no one else can hear it, his hands behind his head

- - > He’s hung, like 3rd leg much?

[baldurs-simp]

Gortash fall in love with the most kind, caring, silly and bold Tav. A Tav he thinks is easy to manipulate, but ultimately, she manipulates him - in a certain way. An artificer Tav to add some more spice (?)

I love Gortash at the moment, so with pleasure!

Masterlist

A loud boom shakes the manor, unsettling the dust in the rafters, telling everyone exactly what happened without the need to investigate. Everyone already knows that their lord, Enter Gortash, will already be on his way to the source of the explosion before the dust even settles again.

You're still fanning the smoke away with your hand, coughing loudly as you try to blink away the tears welling up in your eyes from the smoke. "What in the hells have you done this time?"

You turn your head towards your laboratory door that has blown open from the blast, and you can faintly make out the figure od your lover, Gortash.

"Dabbling in black powder. I may have used a bit much this time," you mention, immediately turning to your notebook on the table to scribble something down, still muttering to yourself. "Perhaps half of the quantity next time. Or a quarter?"

"If you continue like this, you'll bring down the manor before the year is up," Gortash says, tentatively stepping into the room but still carrying himself with immense confidence. "I didn't allow you to stay here just to destroy my home with your...experiments, did I?"

But it's as if you don't hear his words. You're still mumbling to yourself, noting down things on parchment pieces in a chaotic way that Gortash can't understand how you know where anything is.

He calls your name, but you only hum a response, still now paying attention to him. He has to speak your language, so to say, if he wants your attention. "What exactly is it that you are working on?"

The question makes your whip around with a bright smile on your face, glee in your eyes as you beacon him closer. "It's a firearm," you say, turning your gaze to the mangled piece of metalwork on the table. "I've read about them. They're like a ship's cannon, but smaller so you can hold it in your hand. Like a crossbow or shortbow, but less big and without the clanky ammunition that gets stuck on everything. It'll be more convenient and deadly if I get it right. But I'm working on infusing them with some magical elements, too. Like a 'fire' firearm that shoots fire pellets, or an 'ice' firearm-"

"You're rambling, darling," he cuts you off, smirking at your when you bite your lip in embarrassment. "I thought our arrangement was that you work on the weapons we already have, improving my military defense. Not trying to invent some new nonsense."

"But I've done all that and more. It's hard to improve on something that's already great," you say, pouting at him as you fold your arms across your chest. "I'm bored with swords and arrows. Don't you want to be known for something new? Something that no one else has?"

Gortash sighs, dropping his head between his shoulders as he shakes it in defeat. He thought that he had you under his thumb, but every day, he feels that it is the other way around. And yet, he will still give you all that you ask.

You ask him to give you the entrie city for your experiments and he would.

"Very well. But you know I expect nothing but excellence for this," he says, waving his hand at whatever it is that lays on the table in a mangled mess.

You giggle in glee, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek as a thank you. "I know. And you know that I never let anything leave this room until I am completely satisfied with it."

He hums as you step away from him, picking up the contraption to inspect the damage as you right a chair that has been blown over. "Oh, I need more black powder."

"More? Do you have any idea how tedious it is to find? Not to mention how much it costs."

Your eyes meet his, hoping that he will do what you ask without you having to beg for it. But he doesn't budge.

Sighing, you slowly stand up with your head hanging low and your gaze on the floor. "Fine. I guess I'll just have to find someone else who will want to help me if you do not care about me. Clearly, you do not wish to see me thrive in my craft."

You make as if to start packing up your things, making sure not to make eye contact with Gortash. As you try to walk past him, he wraps an arm around your waist, swiping you closer to pin him to his body.

"You will do no such thing, little Artificer," he growls, staring down into your eyes, making sure that you do not look away. "You will leave of I say leave and if I say you will stay, then you will stay. Do you understand?"

"Oh, big, mean Gortash, giving orders to someone that could blow him up with a simple stumble," you say, smiling up at him as you playfully wrap your arms around his neck. "What exactly would you do to me should I defy your orders?"

"Terrible things."

His quick response tells you that he doesn't have a clue what exactly he would do if you went against his orders. It makes you smile and slowly pull out of his hold around you.

"Then, I should get back to work. And you should leave. I do not wish for you to get hurt in my workshop," you say, giving him a light shove towards your door as an instruction to leave.

"Will you be dining with me tonight?"

"If you leave now, then I shall, my love."

Gortash finds himself beaming at the pet name you have used for him and your acceptance for eating with him tonight again. He smiles to himself, not caring that he might be falling in love with you. For with you by his side, you two could be the most powerful couple in the land.

[painonthebrain]

Dial Tone

Whumptober Day 4: “You’re still alive in my head”

Masterlist

Content: Implied major character death, nightmares, unreality, referenced drug use/addiction

“Ma?”

Saul’s voice is soft, tired. He holds a phone to his cheek, leaning back in his beanbag chair, surrounded by his trinkets and decorations. It’s cozy. The colors shift and bend, pleasant.

He hears her voice answer him, and hums in response. “Yeah, I’m back from work.” His eyes drift across the room. “Of course it was shit. Ugh, sorry. I mean, you know how it is.” They land on a suncatcher, painted in translucent, vivid hues. It gleams in the low light, the warm glow spreading across the room, the colors melding together, psychedelic. So much of his room blends together. The colors, the textures, all of it a portrait of himself. It breathes when he does, the walls twitch and quiver, and the lights within flicker every so often. It’s homey. It’s nice.

“He’s not here? Where is he, then? Off doing… whatever you people do when you don’t call?” He doesn’t mention it over the phone. He knows not to speak of it unless they’re completely alone. “Yeah… I know…”

Silence.

“Uh… how’s it been?” Saul licks his lips. “I miss you.” He adds.

He doesn’t know why, but his chest squeezes when he says that. His gut twists, and he swallows, his throat tight. It’s unlike him to admit such a thing, but he can’t remember the last time they spoke to him. Or even interacted, really. He wonders if he might be remembering their faces wrong by now. “Oh. Uh huh. Yeah.” He looks down into his lap.

“Oh, uh… today was slow.” He can’t actually recall what happened today. “I uh… listen, it was nothing new.” He exhales, his breath heavy. She probably thinks he’s a disappointment. “Yes, I still do that. It’s not that bad.” He lies. The weight of it presses on him, but he doesn’t hang up. “I only do it like, once a day. S’not like you can OD on it.” He adds. “God, it’s like you want me to be unhappy!” He snaps, then immediately regrets it. “…Sorry. I…”

His mother coughs, interrupting him, and it’s loud enough that it can be heard through the speaker. It’s a hacking cough, ugly, like she’s choking. Saul sits and waits. “You okay?” His voice shakes. He doesn’t know why. He waits for a response, quiet.

Heavy breathing comes from the speaker, ragged.

“…Ma?”

She coughs and chokes, and it’s scratchy, like her throat is full of gravel.

“Hey — hey, are you alright?”

All that can be heard through the speaker is heavy breathing.

“What the fuck—”

“Saul!” Her voice peaks through the speaker suddenly. “Saul, Saul—”

“What?—” He says, his voice tight.

She breaks into a coughing fit again. “Saul, I— … to tell you …thing— Need to tell you…”

“Just tell me!” He shouts, standing. The room shrinks, becoming claustrophobic. “Spit it out!”

“You ca…n’t l… them—”

Her breathing becomes erratic. His mother screams, a wretched, bloodcurdling sound, over and over, gasping, crying, overlaid by an incessant crackling sound. The phone turns hot in his palm, and he drops it, clutching his hand. The thin sliver of metal hisses and burns, melting into the carpet. Even as it melts, his mother’s screaming is audible, becoming garbled and ghostly.

He steps away from the melting, bubbling mess, and as he does, the world turns, framed like a dutch angle.

Saul runs to the bathroom, making a beeline for the sink.

Water, he needs cold water — he splashes it on his face, gasping, leaning over the counter. It’s freezing, but he needs this. The world contorts around him, and he breathes deep, in, out.

Tilting his head to look into the mirror, he glimpses it. Them. They stand behind his reflection, shadowy, specters that flicker and blur together. Their shadows cross over Saul, one hand on each shoulder.

He whips back to look at them. Nothing. Whirling to look back in the mirror, he locks onto his reflection. Young. Small. Horror etched into his wide eyes.

Him. It’s him when it happened.

Saul wakes up with a jolt. He’s curled in bed, half-draped across the edge, clutching the covers.

For a good, long moment, he breathes, clutching his chest, easing himself into reality. Then, he sits up, the movement slow, aching.

Finally sobered, he groans, running a hand through his hair.

“Fuck.”

[angst-king]

I Promised pt 1

(this is a lil side fic for my adoption AU) (CW description of OD, suicide, vomit) It was a late night, about 2:30 in the morning when Shota was patrolling his route. This night, like every other night was cold and quiet. The breeze swayed through his mess of hair, and the crickets chirped and screeked. Just as he managed to find a place to sit down and enjoy his snack for the night his radio went off.

“Eraserhead come in Eraserhead, do you hear me?” With a huff, he grabbed his walkie-talkie.

“I hear ya, go on” He replied while taking a bite of his sandwich.

“We’ve gotten word of a man robbing a convenience store close by to where you live. The shop owner says they didn’t truly harm anyone just threatened harm if interfered. Do you mind checking it out?” “I’ll be there as soon as possible” Shota answered getting back on his feet, it didn’t sound urgent so he could eat on the way there. Can’t fight on an empty stomach, and Hizashi would kill him if he intentionally starved himself again. So he started on his way to the location, thankfully the walk there wasn’t too far, just a few turns and he’d be there.

When he arrived the store seemed to be rather calm, nothing was broken into. He walked up to the convenience store’s front desk and asked what was the matter. The clerk told him to head back to the pharmacy section and talk to the person there. Pharmacy? Did this person steal medication? Going to the pharmacy section the pharmacist looked relieved to see him although a little panicked.

“Can you tell me what happened?” “Y-yes well, I was just checking the stocks when this man with blackish-white hair and weird-looking skin came in and told me to give him any sort of sedative we had and as much as possible, as well as some antidepressants.” This had Shota concerned, this seemed like maybe a suicide attempt!

“Alright, I will go and see if I can find him.” Leaving the place, Shota had a bad feeling that he may be right about this being a suicide attempt, he couldn’t think of anything else as to why a person would take those specifically! There weren’t many places he had to check, not many places to try and kill yourself quietly either. He started hustling down the street. He wasn’t sure whether he should radio for help just yet or not, he didn’t want an entire group en route. That would potentially make things worse.

“Damn, where could this guy be!” He grumbled to himself as he looked down the third alleyway, he started to pass by the steps to the bridge underpass when he had a feeling to go down there. He decided not to shake this feeling and to follow it, walking down the steps with his flashlight he didn’t have much hope of finding the guy.

Then the sound of coughing came, coughing and gasping echoed through the underpass. Pattering down the stairs the closer he got the louder it sounded.

Getting to the bottom of the stairs, there was a figure dressed in tattered clothes, hunched over still coughing.

“Hey you alright there?” Shota called out, this alerted the person who turned around and started to back away, his quirk igniting. A blue fire sparked and blazed around him as he weakly yelled.

“Go away! I’m fine, j-just let me go!” Shota activated his own quirk, seizing the fire as he cautiously approached. He adjusted the light to get a better look and was a little surprised to see it was ‘Dabi’. He had seen him causing casualties and chaos before, though nothing egregious still arson was nothing small. Seeing him doubled over, with what parts of his normal skin being pale, as he clutched his body. Shota stepped closer and saw the bags and containers of pills and immediately dropped into action.

“Dabi, I’m not leaving you like this!” The young villain tried to push the man away while shaking his head at him.

“Please man, j-just let me go. I-I failed…I failed and I can’t keep doing this anymore! I need for the pain to stop, just please!” He pleaded with tears in his eyes, Shota kept a handle on his quirk as he listened.

“What do you mean you failed? What a mission or something?” Again Dabi shook his head

“You wouldn’t care, I’m not gonna bother, so just act like you didn’t see me and let. Me. go!” Shota got down to the other’s level refusing to let go, though he knew even if he did Dabi most likely wouldn’t be moving much.

“Just tell me, kid! I wont call the police or turn you in. Just tell me.” Dabi bit at his lip while swallowing back the urge to gag.

“Fine since you wont leave me alone…no its not a mission….its my siblings…I failed them. I’ve lost my only family and I can’t find them. I promised that I would find them again. Hell I’d burn down all of japan just to see them again!” This had Shouta confused, siblings? Obviously, he’d never gotten up close and personal with the villain but this sounded familiar to when Shouto mentioned he was waiting for his siblings.

“Dabi…I have to ask…do you have a little brother by the name of Shouto?” Dabi hesitantly nodded and a small smile curled at Shota’s lips, he may have a way to get Dabi to cooperate.

“If I told you that your little brother was safe and sound and that I could bring you to him. Would you let me?” Dabi’s expression turned doubtful and who could blame him?

“Why should i trust you? Why would i believe that you have him and you’re not just trying to bring me to the police?” Shota could understand his lack of trust, if he knew Shoto had been through hell for him to run away, then Dabi and his other siblings must’ve been just as bad! Shota told him not to move, he grabbed his phone scrolled through his camera, and showed him a picture of Shoto playing with the other little kids in the background.

“I found your brother along with a bunch of other children held up in a shitty foster home about a year ago. Present mic, Midnight and I took them in.” He explained, Dabi looked surprised to see he was telling the truth but then asked.

“Wh-what is it that you want in re-return? And what are you gonna do with me?” Shota huffed and reached for a discreet place to check his pulse, he furrowed his brows.

“Shit your pulse is slow, well first, I wanna get whatever the hell you swallowed out of your system. I’m gonna call for some help then I’ll get you home.” Shota went through his emergency bag and handed Dabi a large bottle of water.

“Drink that, you need to dilute what you took, I don’t know how much you took but it’ll weaken it to some extent.” While Dabi drank the water he was given, Shota called Hizashi.

“Hey, look sorry I know you were sleeping but can either you or Nemuri come down to the start of my patrol route? Bring a blanket, and a bunch of water with you too, no it's not for a cat. It’s for a kid, I’ll explain when you get here.” By the time Eraser had hung up Dabi was still downing the water.

“Alright, I gotta get you outta here, so we can get to them. Can you walk?” Dabi nodded and shakily rose to his feet, grunting and wincing. Now seeing him at full height Shota could see many injuries he had. He didn’t know how old Dabi was, most likely an older teen, though he could pass for a full adult just based on his gruff looks alone when he wasn’t curled up. He slipped an arm around him to hold him up.

“I’m gonna hold you up, let's go.” At first, Dabi tried to protest but his fried vocal cords wouldn’t let him. So he let the pro hero half carry him out from under the bridge and up the stairs to the main road. The more they walked the worse Dabi got, he was struggling to move either of his legs as his heart slowed, it was getting harder to keep his eyes open and his temperature began to drop. Shota could hear his breathing become ragged which worried him badly. Seeing the car made him feel a bit better, he knocked on the door to signal to Hizashi that he had found them. The blond unlocked the car so Shota could load Dabi in the back seat. He then climbed into the passenger seat while telling Dabi to use the blanket and to drink the rest of the water.

Dabi listened to him wrapping himself up in the blanket and continuing to drink the water. Shota began to explain what he could to Hizashi.

“So you remember how Shouto said he was waiting for his siblings and that they were looking for him? Well, Dabi is one of his siblings, I never paid much to Enji when he talked about his family but I remember him mentioning only really two of them. A kid named Toya and Shouto, i’m going to guess Dabi is a different name he goes by, probably made it so no one would recognize him when he ran away with his siblings. Anyway, I got a call saying someone stole a bunch of sedatives and antidepressants and found Dabi under a bridge dealing with an overdose.” Hizashi nodded along to this as he drove.

“I take it hospital is out of the question since they could possibly try to arrest him?” “Yeah, and I don’t wanna have to explain to Shouto that one of his brothers was taken to prison.” “I understand, luckily we know how to deal with OD’s, and we’ll keep him on the couch.” With this plan, Hizashi took them home while Shota kept watch of Dabi from the passenger seat.

Getting home, Shota hopped out of the car to check on Dabi who was shaking like a leaf in his sleep. He reached underneath him, slid him out of the car keeping him wrapped up, and carried him into the house. Shota laid him on the couch and placed an extra blanket on him. He checked his pulse again, it was still slow. He had managed to snag the bag Dabi had on him that contained the pills. He checked what he had taken and how much. He sighed in relief.

“This won't kill him thankfully” Shouta muttered to himself, he prepared himself to spend the night in the living room with him. The night was peaceful, it was quiet. It made Shouta wonder what could have gone so wrong for Dabi to go into villainy. Sure running away he could understand but enacting chaos on people?

When the sun was up the next day Dabi woke up to his stomach flipping and flopping, his insides sloshing around. Even with his mind numbed and foggy from the drugs and just waking up he at least had the sense to find a bathroom. He dashed down the hall and threw open the bathroom door, just barely making it fast enough to not get sick on himself or the floor. He didn’t know how much noise he was making, the sound of his mind becoming static while he vomited drowning everything else out. He didn’t know how long the first round took him but for the time being he was leaning against the wall panting and using the toilet paper to clean himself up. He also didn’t know that he wasn’t alone until he heard a small voice call his name.

“T-toya?” His head whipped around at the sound and his eyes blew open wide! There in front of him was his little brother, Shouto.

“Sh-shouto?” Shouto nodded while clutching his stuffed polar bear. It took a second for Toya to realize this was real, he was really looking at his baby brother. He quickly pulled Shouto into a hug, it was firm but not enough to hurt him, he just needed to hold him. Shouto didn’t flinch or pull away and just leaned into him.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, I’ve been trying to find you.” “How did you find me?”Shouto asked, of course, Toya couldn’t tell him the whole truth, he didn’t need to know about his issues.

“Well shouta found me while I was looking for you, and he told me he could bring me to you.” Shouto smiled and hugged his brother back. Though their sweet moment was cut short Toya’s stomach decided now was a good time to evict the pills he swallowed. He quickly pushed Shouto away before his face was back in the toilet again. The small child watched worriedly, not knowing what else to do he placed a gentle hand on Toya’s back rubbing in circles.

“It’s gonna be okay, Toya” The kid repeated over and over reminding him that he was here. Another flash of minutes went by, and Toya had thrown up probably everything his body had.

“Are you gonna be okay Toya?” Shouto asked, Toya nodded doing his best to give a reassuring smile to him.

“I’ll be alright lil bro, don’t worry about me. Stomach’s just acting a little funny. I’ll probably just go and lay down.” When Toya tried to go back to the couch, he felt something grab onto his hand, he looked behind himself to see Shouto with a pout on his face.

“Can I lay down with you?” Toya sighed and nodded at him, this made the boy smile a bit. Going back to the couch, Toya had let the younger one lay on top of him. Even though Shouto was small he was very warm and since Toya was still running cold holding him was like having a furnace keeping him warm. Just as he had settled himself down to sleep Shouto asked him.

“Where’s Natsuo and Fuyumi?” Toya dreaded that question, he knew it was coming.

[hellofanidea]

ok!! 2 prompts!! and u can go for whichever you're feeling at the moment--

no. 3, but specifically after the whole webb headshot incident in foy

and no. 29 of your choosing!

I'm sorry this took me a minute! I went with the first one, but I'm also working on the second, so I might post it separately if I finish it! Thank you for being so good about sending in prompts, it's been lovely to write more and get to share it with you.

03 - “Hey, hey, shhhh. Shhhh. You’re okay.”

They get her on her feet, somehow, and drag her behind one of the more stable structures that line their path into Foy. There’s blood and stomach acid on her ODs, but she doesn’t seem to be hurt, just stunned, and she lets them manhandle her down against a wall until they’re all knelt together.

Around them, the assault continues in bursts of noise and snow. Martin is yelling again, and so is Foley. So is everyone.

Morse doesn’t seem to notice, and Arthur has the horrible thought that maybe she’ll never notice anything again, that maybe she’ll drop down into that place that Buck did and never crawl out, Webb’s blood in her mouth the final straw in a growing pile. 

He forces it away by getting her face between his hands. Her eyes are wide, panicked, something animal in them that screams survival. She grabs at his arms.

“Art-” She chokes out.

“Hey, hey, shhhh. Shhhh. You’re okay,” Arthur soothes. He hates the relief he feels at her show of vitality, terrified as it is. “We gotcha. I gotcha.”

“Webb-” Morse coughs out, and he can see the red on her teeth.

“I know, I know. You just hold on though, you look at me. You hurt? You hit?”

She makes a noise that he interprets as a ‘no’. Then her whole body lurches and she drops her head to throw up again. It’s still just bile, and some soaks the thigh of Arthur’s ODs.

“Oh Jesus,” Tab mutters, moving in to slide a hand against her back.

Morse groans but doesn’t look up.

“You have to go,” Arthur tells Tab.

Tab doesn’t even look at him, just shakes his head ferociously. His eyes are fixed on the blood that isn’t hers but for one horrible moment could have been.

“You have to go, Sergeant,” Arthur insists, putting as much steel into his voice as he can manage when his own heart wants to crawl out of his throat to lay in the snow next to them all.

Tab still doesn’t move, and Arthur puts a hand on the back of his neck, the tiny space between his helmet and his jacket.

“Floyd.” 

That finally gets his attention. His eyes are huge, wet, desperate. Arthur sees his own terror reflected back and feels his heart break for all three of them. Four of them, when he remembers the body lying by the cart.

Tab must see it too, because his face twists before settling into the determined grimace of a soldier. With obvious difficulty, he releases Morse and picks up his rifle.

She looks up then, and something passes between them that Arthur can't interpret. Tab hesitates again, mouth opening like he wants to say something to her, but he just shakes his head and starts to move.

Morse watches him go.

“Tell him later,” Arthur tells her, to cut through what he knows she’s thinking, even though they both know it’s a hollow reassurance.

There isn’t always a later. Webb’s proof of that.

[alittle-toosilly]

Hi writers and hopefully not serial killers! I have some great questionable information for you!

CW:Death, Murder, mentions of replicated s*icide, cannibalism, drugs, drug od, dropping a baby, and general dark topics under cut (Don't say I didn't warn u)

Spinal fluid tastes like a mixture of banana and 9 volt batteries

Rigor mortis starts 2 hours after death (starting in the face and working down to the limbs), fully sets in at 12, and lasts 36 hours in total

In high humidity, the skin of corpses turn black after a week or so

Corpses release a lot of nitrogen when decomposing and other stuff that plants LOVE so please bury bodies in places with vegetation, or you'll have a grassy patch in a bare area, which will look weird

Arteries feel like cooked tubular pasta

If you drop a uterus, it will bounce

The typical human skull weighs about 11lbs/4.99kg on average

Brains are not as squishy as you think! Still squishy tho

Do not cut your palms for blood sacrifices, that's where a lot of nerve endings are and it will HURT!

Steaming alive is more painful than burning alive since it destroys nerves slower and steam burns hurt really bad too

(In America, at least) Vehicular manslaughter is a good way to kill someone because getting hit by a car will leave you severely, permanently injured if not in a vegetative state (AT BEST) and if you have a good enough lawyer it can be written off as a road rage incident and you can get less time in jail

Wear different perfumes, shoes, clothes, wigs, makeup, anything and everything that significantly alters your appearance when disposing of crime scenes as to not be easily identified (AND GLOVES TOO! GLOVESS!!)

Human meat tastes like sweet, bitter, slightly more tough pork or veal. The human placenta is safe to eat if cooked right and is a form of postpartum recovery. Depends on person and cut of meat.

The palms are the tastiest part of the human body, the legs having good nutrition too, AND you can eat the ribs like BBQ ribs

Even consensual cannibalism can cause severe psychological stress and you are at risk of getting various diseases if not prepared and eaten properly

Choking by ice cube is a good way to kill someone since the ice cube will melt by the time they find the body

A lot of medicine at home (Tylenol, Advil, cough and cold medicine, etc.) is lethal in the right doses, most likely when combined as well. Feeding people home drug cocktail infused meals and drinks repeatedly is a good way to murder someone, as long as they can't taste anything weird. You can also write it off as a s*icide by drug cocktail. Know the lethal dose of said drugs for the victim as well

Injecting insulin under the tongue is also good murder method since they can't usually find it with regular autopsy stuff and if they do check for it, they will write it off as undiagnosed diabetes (bonus points if you drive far away and make the victim look like they died while out walking)

If you drop a baby and the blood that comes out of their ear has yellow in it, they have brain damage

Typical stabs have a VERY low mortality rate. A pocket knife to the gut won't do anything. Go for the throat since it damages their vocal cords and stops them from screaming, and the neck is a hotspot for major blood vessels

Soak bloodstained fabric in cold water overnight, apply hydrogen peroxide the next day, then wash. May take a few tries.

Always dismember bodies and puncture their organs and put them in bags with VERY HEAVY weights (heavier than them, ideally) to prevent them from floating up

Eyes sink into the skulls of dead bodies.

Bodies muscles tense up during cremation, causing them to thrash around and sit up

It takes 520lbs or 235kg of force to crush a human skull (sorry guys)

Dissolving bodies in a strong base is better than an acid bc it's less suspicious when bought in large quantities (some strong bases are used in soap making) and will turn bone into brittle calcium stuff that is great for fertilizer

Pigs will eat corpses as long as you get the teeth out. Collect em in a jar or smthn

An air shot between the toes will replicate a heart attack almost perfectly. Bonus points if the victim has a family history of heart attacks or as it risk of one

I may rb with more if I collect more. Correct me if I'm wrong on any of these, and feel free to add any!

If this made anybody uncomfy I'm terribly sorry and will delete this.

I am not responsible for what people do with this info!!

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

🦠 for Thad and JB?

OC's: CottageVersity, Thad&JB

Words: 1011

Title: Holding Onto Me So Tight

Comment: Thank you for the request, and sorry you had to wait so long for it! After all the plotty nonsense I wrote for the other prompts, this was a treat, which is why I saved it for last. Thad and JB are quickly becoming my favorite whumpees, and I'm glad many of you seem to approve!

There was a phone call Thad needed to make, but he had been putting it off all day. He knew the longer he went without communicating, the more suspicious (or worse, hurt) JB might become, but he kept finding reasons not to call. Finally, though, he ran out of work he could use as an excuse to keep procrastinating, so at last he heaved a big, wheezing sigh, and picked up the phone. 

It only rang twice before his partner picked up. "Thad, hey. I was waiting for your call. How are you doing?"

Thad inwardly cringed, both at keeping his partner waiting and at what he was about to say. "Well I’mb… I’ve been better, honestly. Here’s the thi’g, love, … I don't thingk I should come home for the holidays. I've pigcked ubp the mbost godawful cold and I definitely don'dt wandt to pass idt od to you or your fambily. I'll jusdt extend mby hotel stay a few extra days and quarantine here. I was jusdt aboudt to cancel mby flighdt."

There was a breath of crackling silence on the line, and Thad wondered which of the worst-case scenarios were going on in JB's mind. Then JB started to… laugh? It was hard to tell, because what started off as a laugh quickly turned into wet coughing. 

"Oh my God. This is unreal,"JB said. "I was actually going to tell you to cancel your flight because I already canceled our train tickets downstate. I am also in the midst of coming down with a wicked cold and was planning to quarantine over the holiday."

"I call bullshidt. You don't sound sigck."

"It's all in my throat and chest still. But I can feel it starting to migrate to my sinuses already. I'll be a drippy mess in a few days, just in time for Christmas." 

"So you're telli'g mbe we're both sigck with sebparate colds even though we haven'dt seen each other id almbost a mbonth?"

"Sounds like it. What are the odds, huh?"

"Apparently we should've played the lottery. Mbaybe I'll buy a tigcket od mby way to the airpordt."

"To the airport? Thought you said you canceled your flight?"

"I almbost did, budt somethi'g told mbe to waidt until I talked to you. Mbust've been fate. Since we're both sigck, meani'g we can'dt gedt each other sigck, there's ndo reason to spend Christmbas apardt. We mbight as well be id mbisery together."

JB paused, then laugh/coughed again. "You know what, I couldn't agree more."

"I'll see you tomorrow mborni'g, then. Ledt mbe gedt ready for this red-eye flighdt and try to thingk of ways to ndot infegct everyone on the plane with mbe."

JB's chuckle was a phlegmy rumble. "Good luck with that. Be safe. I'll see you in the morning. Love you."

"Love you bagck."

~~~

Thad's fight was uneventful, albeit uncomfortable, and he was sure his seat mate was happy to see the back of him after all the sneezing and sniffling and nose-blowing, though he wore a mask the whole flight, used liberal hand sanitizer, and tried to avoid touching anything. 

Hazy from fatigue and a head full of cold, he felt barely conscious as he pulled into the driveway of the condo. The front door swung open even before he put the car in park to reveal a blanket-clad but grinning JB. Thad wearily grabbed his bags from the trunk and shuffled in the door, coughing wetly. He dropped his bags right inside the threshold as JB shut the door behind him and wordlessly embraced him, wrapping them both in the blanket. They hugged for a long time. 

Thad pulled away only reluctantly a few moments later, flinging his elbow over his face with some haste. "Ha'g od. I'mb gonna sn– hihh! IHHX'zzchuhh!" 

Thick and congested, the sneeze scraped every inch of his throat on the way out. "Ow," he coughed, digging a hand into his pocket.

"Bless you!" JB murmured, producing a Kleenex from somewhere inside the blanket with a cough of his own. 

Thad accepted it gratefully, blowing his nose in defeated finality, ending with a slushy sniffle. "I haven'dt had a cold this bad id a lo'g time. I forgodt how mbiserable id is. I don'dt plan to do anythi'g mbore strenuous than lie od the couch all weegkend."

"Sounds like a plan," JB yawned. "I can hardly stay awake.”

"Aww hondey, is your fever bad already?" Thad clucked. 

JB shook his head, then leaned forward to allow his partner to confirm, sighing at the comfort of Thad's palm on his forehead. "Not even 100. Don't know why I'm so exhausted." 

"Hmm, you're righdt, you feel almbost normbal. Well hey, thadt jusdt mbeans I won'dt have to wogrk to convince you to be lazy with mbe for the negxt few days," Thad sniffled, pulling his hand away with a last caress of his thumb across JB’s jaw.

"No worries there," JB said, attempting a soft chuckle, but mostly coughing instead. "Do you want anything to eat or drink while you settle in?"

"Hodt coffee would be wo'derful," Thad croaked gratefully. "Decaf, please."

"Coming right up," JB said, shuffling to the kitchen. "Don't take too long showering. I need you to keep me warm."

"Deal," Thad yawned, kicking off his boots and shedding his coat as he shuffled the opposite way to the bathroom. 

In record time the pair was on the couch swaddled in several blankets. A Hallmark holiday movie was on for background noise, but Thad and JB were already more asleep than awake, wrapped in each other's arms. 

"I'mb sorry we won'dt see your fambily this year," Thad murmured, rubbing his hand up and down JB's back. 

"I'm not," JB mumbled, his face half buried in Thad's shoulder. "I get to share the holiday with just you instead which is way better in my opinion. That's what the song says, right? All I want for Christmas is you." 

"Shari'g the holiday and shari'g a cold," Thad laughed softly. "Who could wandt anythi'g else?"

[indi-indigo-loves-barley]

Barley is more than happy to take care od Indi when she's under the weather from her anemia. He does it quite often actually. However, Indi always returns the favor when Barley falls ill.

As soon as she hears Barley is sick she gets all the supplies needed to help him recover. Tissues, cough syrup, cough drops, thermometer, tea, soup etc.

Indi will tuck Barley into his bed tight and not let him get up. (Much to his embarrassment sometimes.) She will get everything for him.

Hungry? She's making and bringing him soup. Thirsty? She's making and bring the tea.

The way Indi thinks about is, the more you rest the faster you get better. So lay down, nap, and take medicine as needed.

Indi is determined to help Barley as much as he helps her during her episodes. As a result she will go above and beyond with care. Often cuddling him while he naps, or bring him board/card games to keep him company while he rests

Indi definitely will not allow any physically activity though so any plans they had for the day are canceled. It is now a stay in day.

Will 110% read to Barley if he asks her. And tbh she has a nice reading voice, I could imagine him falling asleep to her reading.

Indi will also 110% nurse Barley. Keeping track of when he need to take more meds and will keep track of how he's feeling. Has his fever risen? Has his cough gotten worse? Have they gotten better? Indi will be able to tell you.

Although Indi gives nurse like care, it does come from a place of worry, and thus she will be anxiously hovering over Barley all day until he's better and Barley can tell she's stressed. Often times Barley will insist she nap with him just so she can rest.

Barley will also check in and make sure she is eat/drinking herself. Cause Indi will 110% ignore her needs to take of Barley abd he hates it. So he reminds her all the time that she needs attention too lol.

All in all, Indi is an amazing nurse who helps Barley get better ASAP by nipping colds in the bud. Rather than ignoring them for adventure like Barley does sometimes. She's just a little uptight about her care.

[ragingbookdragon]

Time Stops When I Look At You

Barry Allen x Wondersis One-Shot

Word Count: 1.8K Warnings: None

Author's Note: Based on the ask I received! Love this pairing now! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

When he opened the door at seven AM after getting in at three that morning, he wasn’t happy. And Hal Jordan certainly wasn’t happy to see her with a bright smile on her face as she greeted, “My dearest friend! What a blessed morning we are having, yes!”

He blinked blearily at her. “It was a blessed morning…when I was still sleeping.”

“Are you telling me you do not rise with the sun and train?” she asked. “I thought that was standard for the warriors of the United of American States.”

“United States of America, (Y/N),” he corrected, opening the door. “And to answer your question, I haven’t been in the military for a few years now. I get to sleep in before I go to work.”

(Y/N) hummed as she stepped inside. “That seems like a waste of valuable time.” She glanced back at him. “I have something important to discuss with you.”

Hal merely made a noise low in his throat and lumbered down the hall, her on his heels, into his bedroom; he collapsed back onto the bed and pulled the covers up to his ears. “What’s on your mind, Princess?”

She quickly unhooked her greaves before climbing onto the bed, laying across his body. “I am unsure of how to show affections for someone.”

He adjusted his body so that her head was on his stomach. “Really? The Princess gifted by Aphrodite doesn’t know how to show you’ve got a crush on somebody? Who woulda thought?”

(Y/N) dug her chin into his gut. “You mock me, my dearest friend.” She let out a sigh. “I was going to offer him a blade forged by my mother and sisters and recite Sappho’s Ode to Aphrodite to win his favor.” Her eyes drifted to his. “But I do not know if he likes poetry.”

“Who is ‘he’?” Hal asked.

“Bartholomew.”

He blinked. “Wait…you mean Barry? Like…our Barry?”

She nodded. “Yes.” (Y/N) stared at him. “Does Bartholomew enjoy poetry, Harold? I have more pieces prepared. The Iliad for example.”

“Please, God, don’t call me Harold.” He shuddered. “Makes me think my mom is scolding me.” He sighed, laying his head back. “Barry’s…not exactly a poetry guy. He’s more the ‘take me to a science museum’ type of guy.”

(Y/N) hummed thoughtfully. “Interesting! What is a science museum?”

“Big building with a bunch of things that make lovers of science all tingly inside.”

“And you think Barry would like that better than a sword and poetry?”

Hal snorted. “(Y/N), let’s get one thing clear. You could give Barry a dowry of a million dollars, and he’d still not get the hint.” He glanced down at her. “You’ve literally gotta tell him you like him or he’s not going to get it. Hell, probably though a science line. That’s one way to get through to him. Actually, that’s probably the only way to get through to him.”

“Hmm…and to think I had a dowry prepared back home.”

“What? Seriously?”

“Of course. Many animals and a great deal of gold.” She turned over onto her back, resting the back of her head on his stomach. “Where is a science museum I can take him to? I do not know if there is one in the city I live in.”

“There’s a really cool one in Chicago,” he offered. “I know Barry’d get a hard-on for that place.”

“A hard-on?” (Y/N)’s brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”

“Uh…”

“Is that another euphemism for arousal?”

“…Yeah.”

“You are such a man.”

“Thank you for noticing,” he chirped, glancing out the window. “Well…you woke me up and since I’m awake…wanna get pancakes?”

(Y/N) jumped up, excitement crossing her face. “YES! I LOVE THE CAKES OF PAN! THEY ARE DELICIOUS!”

Hal chuckled, tossing the covers from his body. “Lemme shower really quickly. Hey, and make sure you text Barry about going so he can put it in his schedule.”

She pointed at him. “That is a wonderful idea.”

***

(Y/N) glanced at the watch on her wrist for what seemed like the millionth time, holding the umbrella with her other. The rain poured around her, thunder rumbling above, but she stood hopeful that the Scarlet Speedster would eventually show. They had talked about the museum for days and she’d been anticipating it ever since they agreed to meet up.

Barry had texted that he would be there in the morning, but that had been hours ago, and he hadn’t answered his phone after she’d last called. (Y/N) pursed her lips as the sky darkened, and not from the storm, wondering if he had forgotten.

Perhaps I should have given him the sword and recited the poem? She frowned and looked around, seeing couples walking around, sharing umbrellas and laughing, joy etched onto their faces. No, I must wait. He said he would be here.

But as the hours dwindled and the day turned into evening, she realized he wasn’t going to make it in time. With a sigh, she turned to the doors of the museum; most of the lights were being shut off and the workers were leaving to go home for the evening.

(Y/N) smiled sadly and gripped her umbrella, turning to walk down the street. There was always tomorrow.

***

Barry rushed back to his house, speeding into his bedroom to yank out a dress shirt, a pullover sweater, and a pair of khakis that he hadn’t yet ruined. He’d completely forgotten all about the museum trip (Y/N)’d invited him on, getting so caught up in cases and running around Central, that by the time he remembered, it was already a quarter to six.

He changed and sped through his door, the streets of Central City turning into a blur as he headed for the museum in the next state. He skidded to a stop outside the museum, eyes widening when he saw the doors shut and the lights off.

“Oh no,” he whispered, looking around for (Y/N); she was nowhere to be seen. “Oh no.”

He sprinted down the street, trying to remember if she’d said she was wearing a blue dress or a red one. He should’ve remembered earlier. He should’ve sent a text. He should’ve called. He should’ve—

WHAM!

Barry went barreling to the ground, landing atop something warm and soft. The scent of flowers and metal oil flooded his senses, and after he caught his bearings, he looked up, cheeks flushing when he realized he’d landed on a woman and more importantly, face first into her chest.

“Good evening, Bartholomew.” His eyes darted to the woman’s face, and he saw (Y/N) smiling at him. “You are late.”

He floundered. His mouth opened and closed but nothing came out except a pitiful burst of air as he scrambled off her, face as red as his suit. He bent down, hauling her up. “I’msosorryIdidn’tseewhereIwasgoingandIlandedonyouandIputmyfaceinyourchestandI’msosrry!”

(Y/N) blinked at him. “I…I did not catch that, Bartholomew. Can you repeat that? Slower, perhaps?”

He raised his hands to his face, covering them as he apologized profusely, “I am so sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t mean to be late or land on you or—or stick my face in your—I’m really sorry!”

She giggled. “I am not offended.” She reached out and took his hand, pressing it to her chest. “Many friends have rested their heads on my bosom. They are comfortable, are they not? Like the finest cushions.”

Barry’s jaw dropped and this time all that came out of him was strangled noise. “I can’t feel my face,” he whispered, and she pressed her free hand to his cheeks.

“Hmm, your face is very hot. Shall we go find somewhere cool to rest?” she asked, taking the hand still pressed against her chest; she laced their fingers. “I saw an ice cream store down the street here.”

He let himself be tugged along. Every circuit in his brain had been burned out and his heart was fluttering way too fast for him to think about anything other than calming it down. But it was impossible. Barry could feel the warmth from (Y/N)’s body, could smell the delicate fragrance of roses, could see the beauty that threatened to blind him.

(Y/N) led him around for a few moments, then stopped in front of an ice cream parlor that had a big blue sign. “Here we are.” She led them inside and glanced at the menu. “Do you want anything?”

Barry blinked, looking up, though it was all a blur, still shell-shocked. “I, uh, a milkshake? Chocolate?”

She smiled. “I will order for us. Please, go sit.”

He did as she said, collapsing into one of the seats in the corner, immediately rubbing vigorously at his face to will the blush away.

After a few moments, (Y/N) sat down across from him and placed a frozen drink down. “Here you are, Bartholomew.”

Barry glanced up to see her with her own straw in her mouth, eyes shut, face drawn in joy as she sipped her milkshake. “Thank you,” he replied. “How much was this?”

“Please do not worry about repayment. I do not need one.” She looked at him with a smile. “You came.”

Suddenly he remembered how late he was. The entire day had gone by; Barry lowered his head. “(Y/N)…I’m so sorry about not making it here earlier. I never meant to leave you here all alone.”

“You are a busy man and I understand, Bartholomew. You need not apologize to me.”

He looked up and gazed at her. “You weren’t there. I thought you’d left and gone home.”

“Of course not,” she said, eyes wide. “We said we were going to meet. I was waiting for you.” She coughed slightly. “But I had to use the restroom, so that is the reason you did not see me immediately.”

“Wait,” Barry said. “Were you…were you waiting here all day?”

(Y/N) blinked. “Yes?”

Now Barry felt like a bigger jerk, and he let his head drop again. “I feel terrible, (Y/N). I’m so sorry.”

She merely stared at him, heart beating against her rib cage and the words of her people’s poetry came back to her, but so did Hal’s words. You have to tell him.

Reaching out, she rested her hand on his, urging, “Bartholomew, will you look at me, please?”

He did as she asked, meeting her eyes. “Yeah?”

(Y/N) smiled. “You must be the speed of light, because time stops when I look at you.”

For what felt like the millionth time, Barry’s mouth dropped open. She didn’t know if that was a good or a bad sign. “I…figured you would like, a line as Harold calls it, that was scientific.” (Y/N) smiled awkwardly. “I care for you, Barry. More than the bonds of battle have forged between us and…I would like to spend more time with you. Intimate…close time with you. Just us.”

Barry nodded dumbly, turning his hand over so his palm touched hers; he brushed his thumb over the back of her hand. “I would love to, (Y/N).”

“Oh, you would?” she inquired, face full of joy and he nodded, a smile crossing his own lips.

“Absolutely. But I have one request.”

“Yes?”

Barry smiled at her. “Call me Barry.”

[raindownforme]

Hey! I’m back with another request!

Reader and Ted practicality have all the same classes and whenever they have to do projects or work in pairs Ted without fail or shame is always like “Can she work with me! Please!” Even in front of the class So he can flirt with her during the project

She/her pronouns pls :D

Also I LOVED ORBITING JUPITER I NEVER HEAR ANYONE TALK ABOUT IT

An Ode to You

Ted Nivison x reader [she/her used]

The teacher, Mrs. Statham, smacked a stack of papers on her rolling cart. She lined the edges of them up to make it straight, then held the stack in her off arm. She turned to face the class, smiling kindly as she stood tall in her professional shoes.

“This week, we’re starting a project. You and a partner will be writing poetry based on prompts and discussing your different styles of writing. Your partner will be randomly assigned-“ the class groaned, some shutting books in protest. “Hey. It’s 9am, you think I want this either?” The class grew quiet. “Exactly. Now, I’m pulling names from a hat. First is…”

y/n leaned into her open palm, closing her eyes for a moment. She could hear students shuffling around their chairs, tennis ball covered legs scraping the cheap cement. She ran a hand through her hair, leaning back to stretch her back over the cheap school chair.

“YES.” Someone stood quickly in the opposite corner of the room, the scraping and falling sound of the chair making y/n jump. She opened her eyes to see her classmate Ted standing up in the corner with his arms upright in a cheering motion. He smiled widely, looking over towards y/n. He quickly realized his outburst, dropping his arms and pushing his glasses further onto his face. “Should I pick up that chair?”

“Yes, Ted. Then go move over to your partner.” Mrs. Statham shook her head, going back to the task she’d been working on before hand. Ted gathered his things, placing the chair back to where it belonged, and headed across the classroom to where y/n sat. He pulled the chair next to her out and sat down, smiling widely.

“Hey, come here often?”

y/n rolled her eyes, trying to hide a small smile. “Good morning Ted.”

“Good morning gorgeous.” Ted looked away from y/n, sorting through his backpack for a spiral notebook and a mechanical pencil. He turned back to y/n, intending to say something, but Mrs. Statham spoke first.

“All partners have been assigned. On the board are types of poetry and some one-word prompts. Yes you and your partner must pick the same type of poem and prompt. If you have any questions, I’ll be up here grading. Go ahead.”

The students began chattering as Mrs. Statham went to her desk. y/n huffed, staring at the board. She wasn’t well-versed on types of poetry, and the list was quite long.

“How about an Ode? You know like an Ode to something?” Ted gestured with his pencil as he talked. “I’ll let you pick the category.”

“An Ode to…” y/n scanned the board, looking for the right word. “Does that say darling?”

“No?” Ted squinted as he looked at the board as well. “I think it says daring. But I like darling! An ode to darling.”

y/n smiled, turning to begin writing in her own notebook. The rest of the lesson went on with only a few scattered comments from Ted.

“What color are your eyes?”

y/n looked up at him, confused. “Why?”

“Never mind I got it.” Ted furiously scratched at his paper, y/n returning to her own.

“What season is your favorite would you say?”

“Fall.” y/n set down her pencil, smiling kindly at Ted. “I like the leaves and it’s usually a nice temperature out. You?”

“I’m a late spring early summer kind of guy.” Ted taped his pencil over and over in a slow rhythm he could only hear in his head. “I mean, unless you have a pollen allergy.”

“Why?”

“I can’t take you out if you’ll be sneezing and coughing the whole time. I don’t know, maybe the fall could be a good time.” Ted waved like he was getting rid of an idea. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Okay?” y/n thought to herself for a moment, then ignored Ted’s question to go back to her work.

“Hey what’s your-“ Ted was cut short by the ringing of the school bell. He groaned dramatically as y/n stood to gather her things. “No! Stop.”

“Why?” y/n didn’t stop, instead zipping her bag shut and throwing it over her shoulder. Ted grabbed onto the edge of her shirt, tugging slightly.

“I don’t want you to go.”

“Ted, I have a class across the school. I’ll see you tomorrow.” y/n gently pulled her shirt from Ted’s grasp. He sighed, standing up.

“Fine. Let me walk you there at least?”

It took Ted all of a minute to gather his things. He shouldered his back pack and led y/n out of the classroom. He let his hand fall to his side, gently taking y/n’s middle finger and wrapping his own finger around it. He looked down at her, smiling softly, and held on tighter when she showed no sign of discomfort.

The two walked in silence across the school, taking y/n to her science class. Ted stopped her before she walked in, keeping her finger is his grasp. “Can I see you later?”

“Ted, we have class tomorrow. I’ll see you then.” y/n patted him in the arm, politely excusing her self. She watched him walk backwards down the hall, and turned to walk into the class.

“I’ll be thinking of you!” She rolled her eyes at Ted’s outburst, avoiding the peering eyes of her classmates.

———

The next few days continued the same way; Ted endlessly flirting while y/n write her ode. The writing came easy to her. She wrote about the stars, about the constellations and the night sky. It was a basic topic she knew, but it was easy to write about and it fit the prompt. She wasn’t sure what Ted had written about, but by now everyone had finished their poems, and it was time to present.

“Alright, Ted and y/n?” Mrs. Statham sat behind her desk, yawning into her mug of tea. “Please state your type and prompt.”

“We chose an Ode, and I miss read the prompt so instead of daring we chose darling?”

She nodded, keeping her eyes on the grading sheet in front of her. “I like it. Go ahead.”

y/n cleared her throat. She looked over at Ted, waiting to see who would go first. He gestured to her, offering her to go first while smiling kindly. Oddly enough, for it being the first class of the day, Ted seemed to be the most awake in the classroom.

“For darkness around you, a pattern to make do…” y/n read robotically from the sheet of paper in front of her. The poem lasted only ten seconds, letting her quickly set it aside and awkwardly smile at her classmates. There was light clapping from the crowd, complimentary almost.

“Very good.” Mrs. Statham scribbled on the grading sheet with a blue pen. “And what was that called again?”

“An Ode to the Stars.”

“Thank you. Ted you’re next?”

Ted nodded eagerly, straightening himself. He smoothed down the front of his shirt and looked expectantly at Mrs. Statham. “Do I-“

“There are no extra credit points for memorization. However, if you’d like to, go ahead.”

“Thank you.” Ted turned back to y/n, smiling widely. “I’m encaptured in your loving stare; My darling girl, my lady, fair.”

Ted went on for a long minute, leaving y/n a flustered mess. Every stanza, Ted found a new way to look at her. A new way to gesture to her. A new way to emphasize the lines he spoke. And after that long minute, the class fell silent for a moment before clapping loudly for Ted’s display.

“Thank you both. Class, did we notice any differences in Ted and y/n’s writing?”

Someone y/n didn’t know the name of put their hand upwards, prompting Mrs. Statham to call on them. “Well, y/n wrote about an object, Ted wrote about a person.”

“Good. Is there anything else we can infer class?”

“Oh!” Someone in the back classroom sat up straighter as they shouted out. y/n couldn’t quite see who it was. “y/n wrote kind of factual? Like things that we could all see. But Ted sees the person differently than we’d normally… perceive them?”

“Yeah. Exactly. Alright good job you two, go ahead and take your seats.”

Ted followed y/n to the shared desk in the far corner of the classroom. Another set of students went up to present theirs, and y/n kept her eyes glued forward on the pair, avoiding looking at Ted.

“I really liked yours.” Ted leaned over to whisper in her ear. She jumped a bit, surprised by how close he sat. “I think it was beautiful.”

“Thanks.” y/n chewed at the inside of her lip. “What was yours called again?”

“An Ode to You.”

“Sorry?” y/n tried to swallow the heat rising to her face, trying to not be flustered in front of Ted.

“It’s called An Ode to You.”

“To me?”

“No— well.” Ted twirled a pencil around in his finger tips. “It’s called An Ode to You, not like An Ode to y/n, I mean technically it is about you-“

“Me? What, are you flirting?”

Someone snorted in the seat in front of y/n and Ted. “You just noticed?”

y/n watched Ted’s face turn bright red. “I mean, they’re right. You just noticed?”

“I assumed it was a joke.”

“Why would I be joking?��� Ted looked at y/n with concern etched across his face.

“I don’t know! Are you not joking?”

“No.” Ted very gently took y/n’s hand in his. “y/n, my darling. I would never joke about you.”

“Well Ted, honey, it’s 9am and you’re flirting with a tired teenager.”

“Can I flirt with you some other time?”

“Yes.” y/n yawned, stretching her arms upwards. “Any other time.”

“Tonight then? 7 o’clock?”

“Why 7-?” y/n stopped, her face becoming increasingly heated as the realization came to her. “A date? You want to take me on a date?”

The school bell rang and Ted stood from the desk, placing a folded piece of paper in front of y/n. “Text me, I’ll come pick you up.”

She watched Ted walk away, then looked down at the paper. On it read a phone a number that she assumed belonged to ted. When she unfolded it, however, was a hand written poem with a title reading, An Ode to y/n.

[herherteartear]

blanket kick

précis— Peter's not the suave man he would hope to be in front of his crush. instead, he's a blushing mess that haunts his memories and causes him to take out his frustrations on his blanket. luckily, you prefer cherry cheeks over smooth lines any day.

pairing— Peter Parker x enhanced!maximoff!reader

a/n— this is my first standalone written story and my first time writing for marvel! i hope you guys enjoy thisss<3 i'm also open to creating drabbles to continue this if anyone's interested????! pls enjoy and pls comment and let me know ur thoughts!!!

there are many ways to describe Peter Parker, but none could ever wholly capture the true essence of the boy

besides the obvious stuff,, his intelligence , his insanely good looks , his teenage awkwardness,,

it was a hard feat to string along words to describe the way he carries himself , the way he is with others , the way his heart loves with the same ability a sponge soaks up water and soap

Peter's had crushes before

perhaps more than he'd like to admit

(can't blame the boy, who gave Ty Lee the right be that cute!?)

but when he sees her, his heart begins to swell and suddenly, he forgets how to breathe..

or how to think... talk. y'know normal human stuff

in all honesty, Peter has tried his absolute hardest to block out their first meeting from his memories

he doesn't regret meeting her, of course not! never would he even repent that embarrassingly wonderful day

he only wishes it would've gone a little differently

let's set the scene, shall we?

the sun was shining brightly, the sky was a Carolina blue, the clouds were the prettiest porcelain color, rimmed with lace

Peter was riding in an awfully silent car that Happy was driving to the airport. despite being terrified of what's to come,, the fight Mr. Stark had recruited him for,, the boy was thoroughly enjoying this adventure.

the car came to a stop, which did little for Peter's nerves. he gathered his courage before stepping out, eyes squinting at the brightness of the yellow sun. once his eyes adjusted, they landed on the prettiest head of hair he had ever seen

(although he did think the same for Hermione Granger)

Peter had never been on a plane before that day. but even then, his sparkling eyes stayed trained on her,, completely ignoring the brilliant private jet behind her

"oh? Happy, i thought it was just us?" her voice made Peter's ears burn. he swallowed thickly. you blinked at Peter, curious but also intrigued , you smiled.

to which Peter choked. on air. your eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"a-are you okay?"

"god, kid, get ahold of yourself."

"i-i'm okay! it's– i'm– i'm fine!" Peter quickly stuttered out.

"well, Yn, this is– uh,, what's your name again?" Happy turned towards the boy who's cheeks were now redder than a firetruck.

"oh! i'm Peter– Peter Parker. it's nice to meet you- not that i don't know you. well i don't, y'know not personally. but like from the news.. not that i believe the news! they're awful to you, but i mean i guess i do sometimes– but never about what they say about you–"

"i'm Yn Maximoff. it's nice to meet you too, Peter." you cut him off before Happy strangled the cute boy. you had an amused smile

he was cute

finally getting on the plane, Peter had hoped he would be able to sit far away from you and wallow in his embarrassment,

maybe sneak a glance or two.. imagine a couple of scenarios where he wasn't a doofus,

but that's not quite what happened.

after witnessing just how much the new kids was able to ramble,, Happy was not about to spend a whole ass plane ride remotely close to him

so he took it upon himself to make the kiddies sit together.. much to Peter's dismay.

like!!? did Happy not see how Peter crashed and burned in font of you?!

you, on the other hand,, had the opposite reaction.

being the youngest avenger, you don't get to be around people your age too much,, which isn't something you're complaining about!!

you totally made the decision to be an avenger and you happily welcomed the consequences..

that didn't mean you didn't get lonely at times. especially now with the accords and the team breaking up., things got a whole lot more lonely

your sister, Wanda, had made her choice to leave the compound. you completely understood why, but a part of you had hoped she would've taken you with her

although, staying at the compound did ensure your safety.

it was a weird time for the avenger's , it felt wrong for you to say some of your teammates were criminals

it left a sour taste in your mouth

you glanced from the window seat to see Peter nervously wringing his fingers. you frowned.

"are you okay?" you asked, gently. Peter's eyes widened and his heart jumped to his throat. he wanted to say something, something cool or aloof, something that would make up for his ranting earlier

"i've never been on a plane before." Peter squeaked out. he dropped his shoulders, rolling his eyes at himself. that was the highest pitch he had ever heard his voice. you took in his clearly anxious posture.

"lets switch seats? maybe looking out the window will help you." you stated. before Peter could quickly shake his head, because how rude would it be of him to take your seat?, you were already stood up.

"oh god!" Peter breathed. he quickly shifted over to the seat you once occupied. he wanted to put up more of a fight, but the way you were swaying due to the turbulence, made his palms sweat in fear for your safety.

"you, like, swing from buildings and stuff, right?" you asked. he turned to you with a nod. "are you afraid of heights? or do you just not like planes?"

oh god. oh. no. you thought– you thought he was scared of being on the plane. Peter wanted to shrink in a hole and hide. you probably thought he was such a baby! that he could handle swinging from hundreds of feet in the air, but a plane is where he drew the line?

but what else is he supposed to say? 'oh, no! it's not the plane I'm scared of. it's just your beautiful smile and the way you smell like cocoa that gets me sweating'

wtf.

that was so wrong in so many ways.

"um, no, no. i'm okay, just– just a little nervous, is all." Peter tried to force out a chuckle. but it come out more like a cough. you mouth formed an 'o.'

"ohh, okay." you paused before your eyes lit up. "how about we play a game? to distract you?"

"o– okay.."

"can you talk with spiders?" Peter lifted his eyes from looking at his hands hovering above yours,; he let out a much more relaxed laugh than earlier.

you took advantage of his distraction to swiftly bring your palm from underneath his and slap the top of Peter's hand. he jumped.

"ouch!" he playfully pouted. you eyes glanced down at his lips. you giggled nervously. your hand went to hover over his, him now being the one to do the slapping. "of course i can't talk to spiders! i– i feel like i should probably be able to shape-shift into a spider in order for that to happen, y'know?"

you nodded thoughtfully. "that's true.. you didn't hear this from me, but i heard there's an Ant-Man going around." Peter looked at you with wide eyes.

"no way! that's crazy! does he like turn into an ant?" you bumped his hand with yours in order to get his attention back to the game. his hand burned at the feeling

"i don't know-" you said in a singsong tone. "it's just what's being said around the compound." you quickly slid your hands to avoid Peter's attack. he huffed.

"how are you so good at this?" he knitted his eyebrows to focus on how to attack quickly without hurting you.

"it's a game i used to play with my brother and sister." you answered. Peter finally took his chance to slap your hands, to which you squealed excitedly as you had tried to move in time. Peter and you fell into a fit of giggles.

you both leaned against your seats, still facing each other. your hands fell on top of Peter's.

the brown haired boy quickly slid his hand out from under yours, not because he didn't enjoy the contact, but because he was worried you'd feel how clammy his hands were

you frowned slightly at the loss of contact.

"a– are we really fighting your sister?" Peter wondered out loud, without a second thought.

you shifted uncomfortably. Peter quickly noticed; his heart sped up and he mentally scolded himself for being so inconsiderate.

"not because i think she's evil! i mean,, i know that's what the news says.. but they also think Spider-Man's like thirty. and i'm not thirty! its just everything's crazy right now.. with the accords., i can't even imagine how you're feeling! probably terrible.. oh, g od wait, not terrible, i'm s–"

you had been watching with an endearing look in your eye. you had come to find that you enjoy watching Peter ramble.

his eyes would become unsettled and shaky, his body would begin to become more and more animated, but his voice

gosh, his voice was something you wanted to listen to for the rest of your life

but you could tell he was getting more and more skittish. so you put him out of his misery

"terrible probably wouldn't be my go-to word, it's up there though.. at least i got to meet you." you smiled softly.

Peter's eyes ran over your soft features. night had fallen, so the windows of the plan displayed an almost picturesque display of the moon and stars. the light hue of color the moon provided painted your face in a way that clouded Peter's thoughts.

with your comment of being grateful to have met him, Peter wasn't in control of his mouth for much longer.

"so pretty." he breathed. both of you guys froze.

Peter's face quickly morphed from love-sick to mortified. you blushed violently.

deciding you didn't want Peter to fall into another rant-like apology (because if you got to listen to him talk for that long in this setting, you might just drop the 'L' word) , you said,

"let's watch a movie?"

the two of you sat, shoulder to shoulder, watching Scott Pilgrim Vs. the World, but being too hyper aware of their thighs pressed together and brushing hands to actually pay attention

upon arrival, both teenagers walked off the plane, sleep deprived , but with thumping hearts and dazed grins.

Peter threw himself on his hotel bed that night,, hiding under the covers

his thoughts replayed your interaction over and over (and over and over) in his head

the boy shoved his head, face first, into the stiff hotel pillow and let out a muffled groan

Peter flipped himself over, stared at the ceiling, before remembering his spouts of unnecessarily long explanations

he thrashed his body, kicking his poor blanket in frustration but most of all, out of embarrassment

he calmed himself down once his memories refreshed themselves over your gentle giggles and how soft your hands were

Peter fell asleep with cherry red cheeks and a blissful grin.

because despite those small mess ups, despite the futile way he beat his covers in humiliation, Peter treasures that day like no other.

[ad1thi]

2020 fic recs!! [Part 2]

part 2 of my 2020 fic recs!! as before, ive limited this to five fics per month; and fics are ordered by the month they were published. This spans fandoms and ships, and hopefully you find something you like!! credit for the idea goes to @iam93percentstardust

***

July

this is the start: @capnwinghead

Clark and Bruce continue raising the Wayne children and encounter a number of challenges along the way.

great minds (love alike): @starklysteve

Steve’s eyes flicks down to Tony’s knees on the floor.

“Are you – are you proposing to me with my ring for you?” Steve asks incredulously, eyes wide and confused.

---

Or, Steve finds Tony’s ring for him, Tony finds Steve’s ring for him. Panic happens.

Marvels Unsolved: @iam93percentstardust

Marvels Unsolved was never supposed to be this popular. It started off as a novelty web-series about Tony trying to convince Bucky about the existence of the supernatural—he firmly believed that if science could turn Uncle Steve from an actual shrimp to the god of muscles, then magic had to be out there—and then they’d started talking about an unsolved crime from the early 20th century after filming an episode one day, forgetting that the camera was still rolling, and had ended up with enough footage to make a second episode about real crimes. They had stayed pretty unknown throughout that first season but then true crime podcasts had exploded in popularity and Unsolved along with them.

it’s a small world after all: @maguna-stxrk

“Great speech.”

Smiling at the compliment, Tony turns around. “Thank y—”

And nearly drops his champagne flute.

His world comes to a stop.

They had only spent a night together, but Tony would recognize those baby blues anywhere.

It’s Steve.

Steve from Tony’s London business trip. Or, as Rhodey has become accustomed to calling him—The Soulmate That Got Away.

you’re in my blood, you’re in my veins: @nethandrake

Tony always figured that if they ever were to break up, it would be like a blaze. Scorching and hot and all-too blinding. Intense like the two of them have always been.

Instead, they break up on a Tuesday, with the rain pelting the windowpane and the midnight silence stifling.

August

Five Times Danny said he’d marry Steve (plus one): @five-wow

Danny humphs. “Look, all I’m saying is, I think I’d probably have married you by now.”

“I’d marry you, too,” Steve says.

Or: An experiment in how many times you can say something before you have to put your money where your mouth is.

Family (You’ve Always Had It): @/SunnyQueen

A black Camaro and a scowling blond was not what Junior had been expecting.

“Hi, sir. You didn’t have to pick me up.”

The blond looked up from the screen on his phone and groaned, completely ignoring Junior's statement. “You are right, I didn't have to."

Ode To Yoga Pants: @riotfalling

OR the continued terrible mating dance of Bucky and Tony, AKA when betting on your friends stops being fun

Through The Years: @hawkbucks

Tony brings home Natasha one day, proclaiming her to be his new sister.

Natasha takes this all in stride.

The broken road that led me home to you: @just-fandomthings

A documented list of conversations between Steve and Danny via text and phone call following the events of 10x22 "Aloha." (Where, even thousands of miles apart, Steve and Danny can't go without talking to each other.)

September

someday, we’ll pass it on to you: @starklysteve

Steve smiles.

Reaching up, he flattens his hand against his son’s far smaller one, curling gently around it. “You wanna be like him?”

“Da!” Peter agrees again.

One year old, and you already know who’s the best of us, Steve pauses to reflect, all his fears chased away by a fierce pride. “Your Dad’s coming home real soon,” he promises, “you should tell him that.”

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

Or, five times Peter did the repulsor pose as a toddler

+ one time he used the repulsors as an adult

Classic Sci Fi: @notdoingsohot

Bucky wakes up to Steve telling him he's lost his memory, but not to panic, it'll only last a few days. Easier said than done when the last thing Bucky remembers is fighting Hydra with the Howlies in WWII.

He tries to make the most of it however, and there's this guy... Tony Stark. It's pretty clear the guy hates Bucky's guts, which is unfortunate because god damn is he a sight.

He tries to figure out what he did to wrong Stark, but everyone just tells him he doesn't want to know.

They were right.

Blooms in Frost: @/Diomedes

Tony coughs up his first petal on the sixth of July. He has been married to the love of his life for two years.

Bury a Hanahaki corpse in earth and it will beget the most beautiful garden. All that love, it is said, must go somewhere.

Hanahaki AU: Established relationship

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

A Single Thread of Gold: @lovelyirony

Rhodey doesn't believe in love at first sight or any of that cheesy shit. He just wants someone who is nice, dependable, and safe.

Tony Stark is Housing Service's little problem for the school year, and now he's stuck in Rhodey's room because he's exploded the last two dorm rooms he's been in and won't live off-campus.

high roller, place your bet: @machi-kun

“Would you kiss Stark for a hundred bucks?”

“I would pay a hundred bucks to kiss him.”

October

press my luck: @omg-just-peachy

But... Steve is almost ten years his junior, and he could be with just about anyone, looking and acting like he does. And then there’s the not so small fact of Tony’s name and net worth and the fact that, okay, Tony had paid for Steve’s grad school tuition, and now he’s worried Steve feels obligated to stay. Or something.

Or, Tony is a billionaire, Steve is a grad student, and they learn to let themselves be taken care of.

see it with the lights out: @starklysteve

Tony goes on a business trip, and he does not - not at all - get jealous of Dodger hogging his husband's chest, a territory otherwise known as Tony's pillow.

(or, Steve goes on an Instagram spree and Tony misses home)

adulthood is looking both ways before you cross the street and getting hit by an airplane: @starkslovemail

It was a perfect plan, if Peter did say so himself.

The Buy In: @dracusfyre

For the ImagineTonyandBucky prompt: Mafia AU with Tony as the Boss (except he's a really good one, making the streets safe, keeping drugs away from kids etc) and Bucky as the detective sent to go undercover to catch him out but ends up realizing he's actually doing more good than harm and they end up falling in love

trinkets of your affection: @starklysteve

Kissed him once for every year I loved him, Steve had written.

By that count, Steve owes him five more kisses now.

Tony traces the words, hands trembling, and tips back a shot of Howard's ancient whiskey. None of it burns anymore.

One day, he'll have lived more days without Steve than there are words in the diary.

For the first time since he'd woken with shrapnel in his chest, Tony fears the future.

----------

Or, five things Tony keeps to remember Steve by, and one thing Steve gives him to remember.

November

“Hey Tony”: @riotfalling

Steve points out that Bucky never calls Tony by his actual name. Bucky doesn’t believe him, until he does.

Remembering You is Hard to Do: @lovelyirony

“The future’s crazy, honey-bear.”

Jim looks up.

“Why do you call me that?”

“Call you what?”

“Honey-bear. It’s weird.”

“Inside joke we have,” Tony says, chest tightening. “We thought those couples that have the lovey-dovey nicknames were ridiculous.”

overheard your heartbeat (calling me yours): @starklysteve

"Tony - "

"I wish I could promise to come home this time," he feels the armor crawl back down his arm, continuing unnoticed over Steve's red gloves, then up the blue uniform as Tony fights to keep Steve's gaze firmly fixed on him.

The last eyes Tony might get to see, and he wants to be lost in them.

In the end, his entire life boils down a few simple things: "JARVIS, take care of him for me."

----------

Or, Tony overhears a phonecall where Steve proposes, a battle happens, and a paper ring settles some misunderstandings.

i (really, really, really, really, really, really) like you.: @nethandrake

For as long as Steve can remember, he's been crushing on Tony Stark. The thing is, he's pretty sure Tony doesn't know Steve exists. And how could he? Steve's scrawny and little. He's a nobody compared to Tony who's Mr Popular and the son of a billionaire.

Or at least he thought so until Tony swings by the bakery Steve's mother happens to own to enlist Steve's help in finding the perfect Valentine's Day card.

The perfect Valentine's Day card for someone who isn't Steve.

One Song (My Heart Keeps Singing): @iam93percentstardust

When Thor is old enough to understand what a Heartsong is, he goes to his mother to ask her why he can’t understand the language his is in. He listens as she tells him about the first soulmates who couldn't understand their Heartsong until the day they meet, excited by the thought of a grand adventure, one that will take him across the cosmos in search of his One.

He’ll search all the Nine Realms if he has to.

December

Swiping Right: @s-horne

“Ouch. Definitely a hard pass for that one?”

Steve startled at the sudden comment from the row of chairs behind him and turned around. He’d been passing the time in the airport lounge by swiping through Tinder and had gotten lost in his own world. It was almost jarring to be pulled away from the screen of hot men and back into reality where the PA was screeching and there was noise everywhere.

Adjusting to the difference, Steve frowned. Wait, he knew that face. Oh, shit… he knew that face.

“No, no, it’s fine,” the man said before Steve could get out anything other than an embarrassed sort of yelp. Waving his hand through the air, the stranger smiled ruefully. “I get it. It’s the beard, isn’t it? True be told, it was a weird winter choice that year and I knew it would come back to hurt me.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. He knew it must have shown on his face and could feel himself flushing, panicked and embarrassed all at once. What were the odds of swiping left on someone literally sat behind him?

set your flight path home (to me): @starklysteve 

Tony puts down his welding torch. “I’m building you a plane.”

Stepping carefully over the gears and tools scattered about, Rhodey slowly makes his way to him.

“And when did you become an expert on how to build a plane?”

“Last night,” Tony grins.

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

Tony builds a plane, and Rhodey teaches Tony how to fly it. Or he would be teaching Tony, if Tony didn't distract him so much.

I Want A Man With A Slow Hand: @thefourofswords

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked on their way to a crime scene, because no time like the present, and Danny believed in ripping off band-aids.

“Why not?” Steve replied, eyes on the road. “You’re gonna even if I say no.”

“What do you like in bed?”

*

Danny undertakes a very important mission to get Steve laid. For his health. Ahem.

same time next year: @omg-just-peachy

“I forgot to ask. When’s your flight home?” Steve asks, draping his arm over Tony’s shoulder and settling in against him.

Tony ignores the knot that forms in his chest at the idea of it, leaving Steve again for his own impersonal apartment, his piles of books and projects and the nights without sleep.

“Day after tomorrow.”

Steve huffs a little sigh, then brings his lips to Tony’s neck. “Well, we’ll have to make the most of it, won’t we?”

Or, four (4) Christmases with two (2) idiots who can't admit they're in love.

rearrange my heart (to fit your smile): @starklysteve

"You dare," Howard's chair makes an ugly noise as it scrapes against the stone floors, the chatter of the room shifting into hushed whispers and stolen glances. "I am your father and your King!"

"My King is my husband," Tony tips his chin up, defiant. "And I refuse to hear you suggest that my husband has been anything other than good to me."

Next to him, he feels Steve's shoulders stiffen in surprise.

Howard's fist slams loud on the table. "Your husband does not even love you!"

Tony jerks back, burned. He knows that. Knows that Steve did not marry him for love – does not need any reminder of the cold truth, of what he desperately yearns for and can't even hope to have – but the harshness of Howard's words was scalding, and Tony can't afford for this to go any further.

----------

Or, King Steven marries Prince Tony, Tony is pretty sure he shouldn't panic when he falls in love with his own husband, and Steve tries his very best not to cause diplomatic crises.

Keyword: try

[mrsalwayswrite]

Murder Is Not On The Schedule (Ron Speirs x Reader)

So this is loosely based on a prompt I found on Pinterest about murder not being on today’s schedule and immediately thought SPEIRS! I also wasn’t feeling great this week so I wanted to write something lighthearted...ya know? So this is what my brain came up with. 

Warnings: some swearing, sexual tension (cuz i can’t seem to write Speirs without it...sorry?), my poor attempts at humor

Words:2500

Tag List: @happyveday​ @sydney-m​ @saritanotserena​

  The sound of mortars and 88s followed me as I walked into the room being used for Captain Speirs' office in Haguenau. Those same sounds should be terrifying but no one flinched anymore thanks to Bastogne. The office was in the back of Easy HQ, looking towards the river. All the walls and windows were still intact, even if the place was dreary and drafty, it fulfilled its purpose. 

 Speirs, who had been staring out the window in parade rest, turned around to lean back against the window and looked over at me. "Lip in bed?"

 "Yeah. Finally convinced him that I could handle it." I dropped down onto one of the two chairs. Both chairs were placed at the table which occupied the center of the room. 

 Lipton was an admirable man, second only to Winters himself. But Christ Almighty, he had to be the worst patient with his perpetual refusal to rest. I did not envy any of the medics who were diligently trying to take care of him. It pretty much took both myself and Luz to drag him to one of the cots in the back and me swearing in blood that if I needed help, I would find him. 

 And if I threatened him a little, no one needs to know, right?

 "Well, I appreciate you stepping up and taking over for Lipton while he is sick."

 I shrugged, already looking at all the paperwork spread out on the table. "He kept us together while in Bastogne. It's the least I can do. Besides, I used to be a secretary before joining up. It's not a problem."

 "Lucky us." He murmured, distractedly. One of his hands tapped a repetitive pattern on his thigh as he seemed to stare at nothing. 

 I knew there was to be a patrol tonight. A prisoner snatch. From what little I had overheard and observed, it weighed heavily on both Lipton and Speirs. My guess was all the names had not been chosen yet on who had to go. Glancing at Speirs, eyebrows furrowed just slightly, repetitive tapping, biting just the inside corner of his lip...he was working on the list in his head. 

 I could not help it as my eyes traced his jawline...his messy hair that looked so damn soft...those dark eyes that pierce your soul but also lit up like a beacon when amused. He looked like a rugged, dirty Greek god with an affinity for bloodlust. Even his hands looked perfect to hold my--

 You are here to help. NOT OGLE YOUR CO! 

 Even if he is pretty.

 Handsome?

 Gorgeous?

 Wet dream worthy?

 Whoa! Too much. Pull up, you buffoon! 

 With all my willpower, I turned back to focus on organizing the reports on the table and checking to make sure we had enough paper. Who knew the army used so much paperwork? Everything had to be documented. I could see why it seemed Winters never left his office...or Nixon. Without Lipton's help, I doubted Speirs would ever see his men. I absent-mindedly wondered if I should offer to help out more often. 

 Obviously out of the goodness of my heart and not to ogle the handsome devil currently before me. 

 Nope. 

 Several minutes later, there was a knock on the door. After Speirs bid them enter, two replacements stepped into the room. Their ODs were clean, helmets practically sparkled in the sunlight, eagerness written all over their faces. They did not carry the weariness from the Ardennes on their shoulders. They still looked like boys wanting to play soldier with the other neighborhood kids. All I could figure was they had gotten dropped off with the other soldiers returning from the hospital. 

 Both rapidly saluted Speirs, who only lazily saluted in response, still leaning against the window. 

 "Captain, sir." The shorter of the two spoke first, practically bouncing on his toes. "We were wondering if we'd see some action soon."

 The other one chimed in, a proud smile exaggerating his chubby cheeks. "Yeah, we heard a rumor there's a patrol. Sir, we're ready to get our rifles dirty by killing Krauts, sir."

 Christ. These two are greener than the Jolly Green Giant. 

 I quickly muffled a snort by turning it into a cough. It must have not been as subtle as I hoped with the side-eye Speirs gave me. 

 Speirs sighed, crossing his arms across his chest. "Your platoon leader will let you know. I suggest you head back to your OP… and try not to get hit by mortars or snipers on your way there."

 The two glanced at one another, seeming to remember that Nazis were just as likely to kill them. A necessary reminder. After another round of salutes, they hurried out and closed the door behind them.

 "Jesus Christ! If I hear those two asking about killing Krauts again, I'll shoot them both…. And murder wasn't on my agenda today."

 "Murder usually isn't on anyone's agenda." I murmured, making notes on a supply list. We definitely needed more ammo...and chocolate bars. There might be a mutiny if we did not receive more chocolate bars and cigarettes. 

 "No, it's on mine. Just not until Thursday."

 Wait….

 ...What?

 My head whipped up to stare at Speirs. I honestly was unsure if he was joking or serious. I mean, hell, we all knew the rumors about him. With his signature serious expression, he held my gaze, as if waiting for me to question him. I chose not to. Really, I believed him. He would be the one to throw a grenade near his men to get them to pay attention. Or get bored and sneak into the enemy's camp to steal their rifles or something just to mess with them.  

 Then I saw the twitch of his lips, forcing back a smile. 

 At that I laughed, shaking my head. "No offense, sir, but I think we need to find something better for you to do with your time."

 "Oh?" He tipped his head slightly, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Like what?" 

 Me.

 Shit. Don't say that aloud. 

 "Mmm…" I tapped my lip with my finger, pretending to think about it. "Preferably something other than terrorizing your men."

 "Ah, but it's fun. You should join me."

 I shook my head, not even trying to suppress the indulgent smile on my face. What had my life become? Here I was joking with CAPTAIN SPEIRS about committing murder…. for fun? Later I should question my sanity, but right now, I was more than amused to see him in this new lightheartedness. I had only ever seen him always stoic, poised, ready for anything in war. I found this new side of him only increased his attractiveness. 

 Damn it. 

 "What are you doing on Thursday?" He probed, still watching me with a hawk-like gaze. 

 I shrugged my shoulders, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. If he was going to joke around, I felt I could return the favor. "Maybe I'm going on a date."

 "With who?"

 "Whoever can afford me, I guess."

 He laughed, widening my own smile. I had never heard him laugh before, and if I could admit it to myself, the world was missing out without that sound. He shoved off the window, to come sit on the corner of the table, one leg dangling off the side, almost touching the chair I sat on. "And what would a date with you consist of?"

 I thought back to before the war. Back before I was weighed down by pain and death. What my life had once entailed. "An elegant dinner at the best restaurant around. Pictures or dancing afterwards. I'm not picky. Then after all that, if I had a very good time, I might be tempted to bring him back to my apartment for some late-night drinks and, well, we'd see where it went from there. But don't tell my mother that last part."

 "Sounds like you've got it all planned out."

 "I'm a lady who knows what she wants."

 "Mmm…" He ran a hand over the stubble growing on his jaw. "I need to change my schedule for Thursday now."

 This information you are trying to process does not compute. Please try again.

 "You taking me out on the date?" I teased back, leaning back slightly in my chair. Mentally, I prepared for him to make a joke about killing whomever was taking me out for the company's sake or something along those lines, since the idea of him having interest in me was preposterous. 

 In one swift move, he shifted over so his leg was between mine allowing him to lean forward and hover over me. The air between us suddenly felt hot compared to the rest of the room. Those dark eyes scanned me, as if slowly undressing me with both the utmost care but also unbridled passion. "Yes. Though we might have to skip with the elegant dinner. I'll share the better parts of the K rations. We also might need to skip the pictures or dancing. But I am positive I can steal some of Nixon's Vat 69 and we can go straight to the late-night drinks. Of course, I'll be a gentleman and let the lady decide what happens after." He finished with a cocky wink at me. 

 Holy mother of-

 I was not ready for that. 

 I could only stare at him for a long moment. My body practically throbbed for him with the image he painted in my mind. The way his voice became so smooth and sensual. The peak of his tongue as he quickly licked his lips before speaking. Now he sat there, his leg dangling between mine, keeping me glued to my seat. Subtly, I tried to press my thighs together to alleviate some of the pressure building. Not that it helped with his intense gaze making my heart beat faster and his lazy smile telling me he KNEW the effect he was having on me. 

 Act cool. 

 Act cool! 

 Play it off! 

 I leaned forward, smirking. "Do you always offer to take your executive officers out on a date? If so, I can see why Lipton likes you so much."

 He chuckled, eyes alluring and heated. "No, not all of them. Just the ones that I've been admiring for some time." 

 Well shit. 

 Abort. 

 Abort! 

 Don't you dare, you've dreamed about this man before. Ride it out, you coward! 

 I blinked in surprise but before I could respond, he had already made his move. He leaned forward and braced his hands on the arms of my chair, hovering over me. His face now was only inches from mine. I was positive he could hear how fast my heart was beating. My lips parted, trying to encourage breath into my lungs that were struggling to send oxygen to my brain. His eyes drifted down to my lips and lingered there. As if in compliance, my own eyes glanced at his lips, how soft they looked, even slightly chapped still from our time in Bastogne. His hands slid ever so slowly further up the arms of the chair, stopping just next to my elbows. Now I could see the faint lines around his eyes. His hair slipped forward, calling my eyes upward. I struggled to not reach forward and touch it. To see how it felt with my fingers running through it. A soft chuckle had my eyes snapped back to his, as he watched me with an intensity that border-lined frightening and lascivious. 

 I gulped. "Captain Speirs…"

 "No," he just barely ran the tip of his nose over the shell of my ear. His hot breath caressed my skin. My eyes fluttered closed on their own accord; my body unable to handle the pleasurable sensation. He whispered into my ear, voice fully commanding and salacious. "No, you call me Ron when we're alone."

 Mission control. We are going down. I repeat we are going down in flames! 

 My underwear was not prepared for this! 

 "Ron." I liked the way his name rolled off my lips. If the quiet, sharp inhale from him said anyway, he liked the way it sounded too. Tilting my head just the slightest, I could look up into those dark, smoldering eyes. Our lips though...I could taste his breath on my tongue. I could feel the warmth from his skin radiating onto mine, turning me into a puddle of desire.

 Oh God, he smelled like everything that is beautifully masculine. Not the nasty, sweaty teenage boy but the pheromones that make your ovaries take notice and your uterus demands for something to be done with it. How was that possible? 

 "I'll...um, I'll make sure to add this to your schedule on Thursday." I whispered, almost able to feel his lips ghost over mine as my lips formed each word. 

 "Excellent."

 His hand trailed up my arm, setting fire to my nerves. Gently, he wrapped it around the base of my throat, his thumb rubbing a pattern into my skin. The whole time our eyes remained locked. His pupils dilated, desire coloring them and I wondered if mine looked the same. The small amount of air between us was thick with tension and salacity. My body screamed for me to drag him down and crash our lips together. To see if he tasted as good as he looked. My hands were stuck in my lap though. It felt like we were in a stalemate, unable to move forward, to take that next step.

 If something does not happen, I swear I will spontaneously combust! 

 Then someone knocked on the closed door. 

 .

 .

 .

 Dear universe. That was NOT what I meant! 

 With a sigh, he slipped his hand up to rub his thumb along my bottom lip for the briefest of seconds. I swear the regret coursing through my veins, I could see mirrored in his eyes. Ever so slowly he retracted his hand and leaned back, but stayed on the edge of his desk, his leg still between mine. 

 "Enter." He called out, only turning his heavy gaze from mine when the person stepped through. 

 First Sergeant Talbert walked in, opening his mouth then hesitated for a second as his eyes seemed to take in but not fully comprehend the scene before him. "Um, sir, there's a couple of replacements asking about a patrol…"

 "Oh, for fuck's sake!"

 I laughed at Speirs' pained expression. Quickly, I jumped to my feet and brazenly patted his chest, my hand lingering on the feel under my palm. "I'll take care of it before murder happens."

 "That's not till Thursday." He looked at me with a wry grin. His hand subtly reached forward to skim my hip before grabbing the edge of the table. 

 "Remember, you're busy now. Murder has to wait."

 "Fine. Friday it is then."

 "If you have the energy after." I winked at him. I only caught a glimpse of the hunger that flooded his eyes before I turned on my heels and headed out the door. The whole way out I could feel his heated gaze on my back, like his fingers were trailing down my spine. I shivered in anticipation for what it would really feel like. 

 I'll make sure he doesn't have the energy to terrorize Easy… I'm definitely doing this for their sakes… completely self-sacrificing… yep, I won't enjoy this at all. 

[crestfallen-infatuation]

Pull the trigger, Budd Dwyer, hahaha

(Pull the trigger, Budd Dwyer)

(North, North) Haha, you mad (Northside)

(In this bitch, with my cap on) Yeah

(Time to go back to speak that lingo)

I'm back in this bitch like a menace

Running these hoes just like tennis

Fuck what you thought of my image

Blocka blocka blocka blow

Semi auto with the scope

I'm back in this bitch with the cult

I'm back in this bitch with the phonk

Scrim back in this bitch better know

I'm back and I'm hating and plotting

Back and I'm scoping with robbers

Come back and then jaws get to dropping

Come hard when you step in my yard

Scamming

Gimme your card

Off of a couple them bars

Choppa k-k-kicking

Auto f-f-spitting

Talking a lot of that guala

From the eses to the shottas

Lil wetto with yoppas

Get my pills straight from the doctor

Off of the jump with my shit

Offer the dump off my hip

50 shots like I'm back in the crack

Smoking that pack off the jack

OD slowly

OD slowly, OD slowly

OD slowly, OD slowly (Slowly)

OD slowly, OD slowly (Ho)

Hahaha

Stop telling me what to think

Stop telling me what to think

Stop telling me what to think

Stop telling me what to think

Stop telling me what to think

Stop telling me what to think (Assumptions, assumptions, assumptions)

Stop telling me what to think, to think

Stop, stop telling me, stop telling what to think

(Assumptions always being that)

Stop, stop telling me what to think (Stop)

I have become what I hate

Sad to say I saw this coming from miles away

Too bad that it ain't a race

Coughing my lungs out

Stuck in last place

Always in bad shape

Blunt to the face

I want all the smoke

Let me get a fucking taste

What the fuck you gotta say?

Yung plague untamed

Yung plague got nothing to hide

Now I've never been one for picking sides, but I choose $UICIDE

Yeah I reject almost everything bout this new world

I reject all the people inside

They can run

They can hide

They can swim

They can fly

But I'll hunt 'em day and night for the rest of my life just to watch them die

Then shed tears like a crocodile

All the while my choppa smiles

Wipe the bullet

That's not my style

Belly full of lead and stomach bile

You thought that your life would be worth while

Just another fucking rank-n-file

First came school

Then you got a job

Now your fucking bitch is walking down the aisle

Safe neighborhood for the domicile

Redoing the kitchen picking out new tiles

Don't touch that fucking dial

Let's see what's on TV!

World war III in a couple hours

But at least the house is clean

Bodies will be piled for miles and miles

But the maid service was free

[vampamber]

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you and I'll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it. And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

(this may take a while)

55 WIPs under the cut, fair warning. I swiped this from @moonweaver30, but I dunno who to tag. I dropped off the face of Tumblr for a very long chunk of time, so now I don't really know much of anybody, or who still writes, or who still uses their account, or anything like that. If you want to be tagged, congrats, you're tagged?

Mostly I'm putting this up to try and shame myself into finishing some of these up eventually. Also, I have a few WIPs that are an entire prompt month thingie that I've only done a few of, but didn't put on the list. They are: Suptober; Word Of The Day 9-?; Just A Kiss; and Inktober drabbles. For anybody curious. Also didn't bother to put the file for my original novel, since I have next to nothing written for it (or even a title yet).

Not expecting any responses, but if you wanna, I have nothing but free time right now (wicked head cold/sinus infection, so my entire weekend plans consist of sleep, cough, blow nose, meds, repeat). Not that I usually have plans anyway... *shrugs*

1. How To Save A Life

2. A Helping Hand

3. Hot As Hellfire

4. Autograph

5. Literal Home Wrecker

6. Mail Order Mate?

7. I Love Your Porn (And Maybe You)

8. A Siren's Heart

9. Even The Bees

10. Mr. Blank Space

11. Life, After

12. Why Couldn't I Show It?

13. College Degrees

14. Young Love

15. Personal Omegas

16. Whatever You Do, Do Not Drunk Dial Your Ex

17. First Of May

18. Angel With A Shotgun

19. Bubbles

20. The Family Flannel

21. Fairy Tales And Kisses

22. Hello And Good-Bi

23. There's No Snooze Button

24. I'll Protect You

25. That's Not A Teething Ring

26. Catch And Release

27. Christmas Shopping, Ugh

28. 12 Days Curse

29. Trixie-Sitting

30. Who Even Uses Cursive Anyway?

31. Cold Black Cloud

32. Ode To The Bouncer

33. In The Garden

34. Ladies Night

35. Not A Cat Person

36. Not Too Late

37. Mirror Mirror

38. On Santa's Lap

39. Eggnog Mustache

40. Cyrano With A Twist

41. teacher destiel cute meet soulmates

42. Camp Memories

43. One In A Million

44. The Switch

45. Pineapple Upside Down

46. When In Vegas

47. Figure Eights

48. Life Energy

49. soulmate mark

50. ANGST!!!

51. Research

52. Imaginary Friends ch4

53. Looks Can Be Deceiving

54. The First Five Minutes

55. Heat Stroke fic continuation