#fury funnie scream
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Sometimes, I really do need you, autocorrect. Sometimes, I’m not quite fully awake. Or my brain is going faster than my fingers can type.
But listen:
I flub the word “lesbiabs” like ONE TIME & now you’re going to gaslight me every time?
“No no, ‘lesbians’ is actually the wrong one, Queer Card ™️ revoked…” How long?? How long ‘til you let this go, hmm??
LET ME LIVE
Basically this:
#will i ever know peace#get off my lawn#sentenced to life for a typo#autocorrect#I hate you autocorrect#hell hath no fury#like autocorrect scorned#apparently#meme#meme reference#genuinely one of my favorites#I DUG through my saved photos just to find her again#lesbians#LESBIABS#shut up#typo#screaming into the void#let me live please#let me liveeeee#lgbt#lgbtq#gay#lesbian#funny#haha#lol#humor
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inexplicably sad about the loathly lady. I just can't imagine being brave enough to ask anyone whether they would prefer you be attractive in the sight of their friends, or attractive when they fuck you. that those are the only two options. I can't stop thinking about how there are many other answers to that question, and almost all of them are wrong.
#reading maskerade really stirred up some nonsense.#there's a scene I didn't clock the first time I read it but stands out in jagged relief now#where agnes (who has memorized the score for MULTIPLE OPERAS and is dealing with an extreme sleep deficiency;#who understands full well that christine is a beautiful tone-deaf self-absorbed idiot)#gets cruelly overlooked by everyone. even the man who she helped transform into andrew lloyd weber.#because she is fat and has good hair.#and with her disc-defying voice she SCREAMS until all the glassware in the opera shatters. the world cracks.#......but then she and everything else has to keep going.#the world doesn't pause to admire her rage or her fortitude. nothing stops. it just.....goes on.#amazing sometimes to think that these books were written by a british man 40-odd years older than I am.#that's exactly it; I don't know how you know it but you do.#(sidenote it is quite funny that poems about arthurian knights and silly fantasy novels from the 1990s#are the only two referents for this fury that I can think of.#even recent television series don't handle it well. ehl oh ehl. ehl em eff ayh oh even.)
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Snitches the cat and his favorite bat
I wrote up dpxdc fics based off of prompts I happened to see in the last day to add to the reading pile for anyone who didn't prep for the archive down time today.
EDIT
The idea for Danny as a cat came from @shycorvid, thank you so much for correcting me and letting me play in your sandbox!
Snitches the cat comes from @garbagewith-a-cherryontop (I think??? I couldn't find a definite first post!) but the fantastic linked post is the one with how I think Snitches the cat looks here.
Word count is 1053.
Tumblr reference
masterpost for my AO3 downtime fics
“Ugh- that's not- did we just summon a demon cat?”
“It's so messed up looking. Ew.”
Danny blinked and swayed on his feet. He'd had a tail a minute ago, speeding across the GZ to check in on Walker. There had been an unpleasant lurch in his stomach. And now he was on his feet. All four of them.
Wait, what?
“You fucked this up.”
His ears twitched at the sound of a slap. Danny swiveled towards the sound and then got distracted by the feeling of his ears swiveling back. Whaaaaat?
He looked down at his precious little feeties. They were adorable paws.
“Oh, you motherfuckers,” he said. It came out as a conversational yowl.
The humans looked at him from about ten feet away and five feet up. “Annoying…”
He was pretty sure they were high schoolers. There were five of them, two girls and three boys. They were all bigger than him. High schoolers were usually bigger than he was, but this was just ridiculous.
“Count yourself lucky, dimwits,” one of the older kids said. He took a step towards Danny. Danny pressed his ears flat against his head and hissed at the approach. “If you managed to sacrifice Patches to a demon, your Mom would straight up murder you.” He laughed when he said it, like anything about that was remotely funny.
Uh- what now?
Only now, Danny noticed a very distressed calico cat underneath a laundry basket on the other side of the room. There was a stack of textbooks weighing the basket down. A large rug had been rolled up and- he sneezed rapidly, eyes watering. Chalk! They'd drawn on the floor with chalk!
‘This is some incompetent summoning,’ Danny realized, way too late. ‘Did they- how did they turn me into a cat?’ He looked at his unfortunate brethren under the laundry basket. Her ears were flat against her skull and she looked scared.
He remembered the word “sacrifice” and his blood flushed hit with fury. They'd wanted him to eat her! They'd wanted something to eat miss Patches!
The teenagers froze and looked at him, aghast at the angry sounds that were coming out of his throat.
“Shut up!” One hissed. She took off her shoe and threw it at him. Danny dodged and then threw his head back to yowl even louder. Sonic attack! Aural damage, you big jerks!
“The neighbors are going to- make it shut up!”
Danny had to run, dashing over furniture and tearing his way across a crowded table to avoid being grabbed. He screamed the whole time, eager to alert whoever they were so afraid of. Someone should see!
The window burst in.
Danny stopped running, shocked. He hadn't actually expected-
Someone snatched him up from behind and smacked him on the face with a palm. His jaw exploded with pain. It cut off his yowling.
Stunned. He was still for a moment and then he struggled for his life. The grip on his ribs was way too tight-
He looked over at the sound of a sword being pulled from a sheath. Holy shit, that was bomb as hell. His eyes went wide at the sight of a heavily armored small child crouched on the windowsill. The boy's eyes were covered, but Danny could still see him look at Danny and the poor calico under the laundry basket. He sneered.
“Unhand the cat or lose your hands at the wrist, you wretch.”
Danny loved him.
The teenager dropped him. Danny caught himself with a stumble. He let out a sad mraow before he could stop himself.
Fight club baby was enraged. “What have you done to this animal?” He hopped down into the room, revealing he was at least a foot shorter than the smallest girl in the room.
Danny trotted to him and started winding around his ankles admiringly. What a good kid! He purred.
“I will be taking both of your cats with me. If you ever harm an animal again, it will be your head that is found in a chalk-”
“Robin.” A hugeass grown man squeezed himself through the window that the kid had broken. Danny craned his head up, up, up, to see him case the joint.
The older man radiated incredible judgment. “I see that you require education on animal welfare and demonic summoning. Go on, Robin.”
“That's my Mom's cat!” One of the teenagers protested. “You can't take her!”
Robin growled at her. Danny jumped in his skin at the sound.
“Then we shall return it to your Mother and her alone, when we explain what you've done.” Danny let murder baby scoop him up and purred at full volume. Hell yeah. He looked at the cowering teenagers with condescension.
“Not that fugly thing.”
Danny blinked. He ended up making an inquisitive mraow. Why was a finger being pointed at him? He was baby.
“That thing showed up, you can get rid of it. But Patches is Mom's cat, and you can't steal a cat because-”
“Batman can steal any cat!” Robin bit out, gathered up Patches, and jumped out the window with both cats in an expert grip.
That didn't sound right, but Danny just enjoyed the night air as a line pulled Robin up to where yet another masked vigilante was waiting, cackling himself to tears.
“Batman can steal any cat,” he wheezed. “Brilliant. Good detour, Robin. Can I hold one?” He held out his blue-striped palms expectantly.
He faltered when he saw Danny, visibly surprised.
Danny… was starting to feel bad. He curled into Robin, hurt. He wasn't ugly. Why did people keep reacting to him weird?
“No,” Robin said curtly. “You have damaged his pride, and Patches is still reeling from her shock.”
The man let out a sigh but let the topic go. “That's Patches, and this is…?”
Robin hesitated. “He is the Snitch.”
That unlocked cooing. “Snitches? Snitchy Snitch Sni- ow!”
Danny snapped at the hand that came way too close and he let out a warning growl. No baby talk!
Robin seemed very pleased. He rubbed behind Danny's ears. “Snitch… I suppose that Snitches will suffice. We are taking him home.”
“....Maybe, just for fun, we should take him to get treated for mange first!” The guy made jazz hands to go with his statement.
Robin and Danny both growled that time.
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hate the way you smile
pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader
genre: fluff, angst, comedy, e2l + childhood enemies??
w/c: 4.7k
summary: from the second you met theodore nott you knew that your life would be torturous and that the boy would never leave you alone but maybe forever isn't so bad with theodore nott.
warnings: none just a lot of bickering
a/n: omg this one is a bit long but i finished it!
From the moment that you met Theodore Nott at the bright age of five you knew you would hate him forever. Maybe it was the way he would sneer at you with distaste or the way he would mock you for being a big crybaby whenever he took your toys. All you knew was that you simply loathed his presence.
Your families had been friends and they had initially thought that you and Theo would get along since you were both the same age. What they didn’t expect was the young boy to rip the heads of your dolls and proceed to mock you for crying your heart out. Yet even with all of your constant bickering your families still met up every holiday, bringing the demon child with them to torment your life.
Since that day your childhood was filled with cruel laughter and the mischievous eyes that would watch wherever you went. At age seven, Theodore Nott found it appropriate to fill your bathtub with toads causing you to shriek out in terror when you opened the bathroom door, and him, to run away with glee at your horrified face. At age nine, he thought it would’ve been funny to surprise you by dumping a bucket load of pumpkin juice all over you and he cackled at your expected screams of anger. What he didn’t expect was for you to retaliate by smashing a tray of cauldron cakes into his face.
Needless to say the war between you two started way back then and it had continued, the only difference being that now you both were more mature and civilised and there was no room for childish pranks.
“Suck my cock you mangled prat, I hope you trip and fall to your death you insignificant shit goblin!”
At least so you thought.
You made a move and lunged for Theodore Nott’s throat as anger flared in your eyes. No one paid mind to the scene that was unfolding before them afterall it was a common occurrence for the last six years.
“You enchanted my hair green!” You shrieked as you shook the brunette violently. “Are you out of your mind Nott? I thought we agreed we wouldn’t mess with each other’s appearances, what happened to that?”
Theodore simply smirked and you felt your fury bubble inside you. He tilted his head to the right and acted as if he was actually pondering your question. If you could you would have been breathing flames as you felt yourself grow more livid as every second went by.
“Hmm…I like your hair L/n, really suits the whole vibe you’re going for, don't you think bella?” Theo flashed you a wicked grin as he reached out to twirl a lock of your hair between his fingers. You slapped his hand away.
“And what vibe am I going for Nott? Please enlighten me since you apparently are the one making decisions for me.”
You should’ve just walked away. You really should’ve just cursed him out and gone to Madam Pomfrey for some sort of remedy instead of staying and entertaining whatever shit-faced idea he had come up with. The moment you saw the smug smirk that spread across his face and the dangerous twinkle in his eyes you knew he was going to spew some absolute bullshit. And you were right.
“Well obviously it’s a statement declaring that you’re mine, why else would you dye your hair to match my house?” The Slythering feigned disbelief, clutching his hands to his chest innocently. “But Salazar, I didn’t know you would be so bold about your feelings towards me bella.”
You felt heat rise and settle on your cheeks as you tried to come up with a colourful comeback to wipe the stupid smirk off his face but the words die in your throat. It was against your will but you could feel your face growing hotter as he continued to stare at you with that flirty glint in his eyes. Your brain spluttered to a stop and you scrambled desperately for something to say.
“Fuck you Nott.” You seethed before storming away with your hands balled into fists. You could hear the whispers of students and you could feel their stares as you stomped to the infirmary, determined to find some way to get your hair back to normal.
Theodore Nott was the biggest pain in the arse you knew and he had never stopped being one. You still remembered when you had received your letter to Hogwarts and he had scoffed at the sight asking why Hogwarts would want a half-wit like you. Needless to say your parents weren’t surprised at the cries that erupted a second later from both you and him.
Throughout your years the two of you had become known for the obvious tension and pure hatred you harboured for each other though it did seem to lean on your side a bit more than it did to his. It had been the same for the first three years, bickering, pranks and whatnot. Then fourth year came and the scrawny boy you once knew had magically grown much taller and his face had lost a lot of the baby fat it once had. All at once Theodore Nott became one of the most sought after boys in Hogwarts and it only made you loathe him more. It made his ego triple in size and it made him much more flirty towards everyone but you seemed to be his number one target. All you wanted to do was to take your wand and puncture that bloated head of his.
Though his appearance changed he still was the boy you knew since you were a child and whenever he smiled you could see the same boyish grin he had way back when he was five. He had always been the same but now he just had a much more pretty face to disguise the fact he was a blithering idiot.
Theo watched as you stormed off, his smile never once leaving his face. He loved to mess with you purely to see the visceral anger that radiated off you every single time. The way you would try to stare him down but the action proved useless as he was much taller allowing him to simply look down smugly. It amused him to see how your reactions never changed.
Ever since you were five you held the same expressions: whenever you were mildly irritated by him you would chew on your bottom lip, whenever you were pissed your eyes would double in size and you’d look like a fire-breathing dragon, and whenever he made you upset you would stare blankly without a word. He’d only ever made you truly upset once and when seeing your face he knew he would never do it again because even if the two of you bickered and fought he would never hurt you.
“Sometimes I think you’re secretly dating because you should see the way you’re daydreaming hopelessly while staring at L/n’s retreating figure Nott, you look like a bloody imbecile.” Draco slapped Theo’s back startling him out of his own thoughts. He scoffed after realising what his friend was implying.
“Oh Salazar’s balls I think I’m going to regurgitate my breakfast. You’ve gone insane if you even think for a second there’s a chance I fancy that creature.”
Laughter erupted from his friends and they continued to mock and tease him obviously not being mature enough to handle the situation with grace.
“I would rather shag the giant squid than date L/n and I’m sure the feeling is mutual.”
Mattheo hummed to himself and smirked. He placed his arm on Theo’s shoulder. “Well then can I ask her out? She’s real hot and I think she’d be interested.”
“L/n might be stupid Riddle but she wouldn’t ever go out with you or even give you the time of day. So don’t even think about doing it.” And with that he left and his friends exchanged knowing glances before bursting into another fit of laughter at their friend’s own obliviousness.
//
This was so not your day.
Never in your life had you forgotten to hand in homework yet one silly slip up had cost you to spend your free afternoon in detention. It wasn’t your fault you had mixed up the dates on when the transfiguration homework was due.
You begrudgingly opened the classroom doors, finding a seat to sit down for the next hour. At least you were able to catch up on some other classes while you were in detention otherwise you thought you would’ve gone mad. You looked around the classroom save for Professor McGonagall who had already greeted you when you walked in there was no one else there.
It hadn’t even been a minute when the doors burst open to reveal a very tall and very smug Slytherin.
“Mr Nott, glad for you to join us, find a seat please.”
Theo's grin faltered as his eyes locked onto yours, a flicker of confusion dancing across his features before it was swiftly replaced by his trademark smirk. He made his way toward you, closing the distance until there were mere centimetres separating you from him.
“Now L/n, Nott, I have important business to tend to so I assume the both of you are mature enough to sit through this detention. I hope that I don’t hear about any incidents when I am gone.”
It was as if your nightmare had all of a sudden come to life as you watched McGonagall leave the classroom. You tried to protest but it fell upon deaf ears as the professor had already left the room, leaving you stuck with your nemesis.
You whipped your head to face the brunette, irritation flashing in your eyes. Why had he chosen to sit next to you when there were plenty of other seats available? The classroom was far from crowded, yet here he was, invading your personal space with his mere presence
“Why are you sitting next to me Nott?”
“Why can’t I? Do you happen to own every seat in this classroom?” He teased. “I didn’t think you did, so I’m going to sit where I want.”
You grumbled under your breath at his stubbornness, getting up to pack your things. “Fine, but then I’m moving.”
Before you could make your move, Theo reached out and grabbed your arm. “Hey slow down, I have a perfect seat right here.” Your irritation flared at his audacity, and you shot him a scathing glare as he gestured to his lap with a smug smirk. “Why don’t you-”
“Nott, if you seriously propose that I sit in your lap I will hex you to oblivion.”
“Okay!” Theo held his hands up in mock surrender, his expression feigning innocence as he cocked his head to the side, the smirk never once leaving his face. “Stay here, I won’t bother you, I swear.”
You eyed him cautiously, your scepticism evident. You weighed the options before you reluctantly sat back down. “Fine.”
A quiet hush befell the classroom and all that could be heard was the scratching of quills on parchment. That is until you were interrupted by a persistent poking sensation that disrupted your concentration, each jab of the quill more annoying than the last. You clenched your jaw as you tried to ignore Theo but you knew he wouldn’t stop until you gave him attention and there was no way you were giving him the satisfaction of reacting. So he continued to poke and poke and poke.
His incessant poking finally pushed you over the edge, prompting a sharp hiss of irritation from your lips. "What?" You snapped, unable to contain your frustration any longer.
“What are you doing here?”
If there was a competition for incompetence Theodore Nott would sure have won first place.
“Detention obviously.”
“Oh you know what I meant, why are you in detention? Did you do something stupid? Wait, you do that all the time I forgot.” You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to roll them right out of your skull. "Tell me, bella," He continued, his voice laced with faux innocence. "I don't bite."
“Forgot my homework.” You reluctantly mumbled under your breath, feeling all too claustrophobic at how close he was to you. “Not that big of a deal.”
“Oh but it is.”
“What does that even mean, Nott?” Your eyes narrowed. Theo’s face twisted into a playful smirk and he was so close that you could practically hear his heart beating.
He chuckled, undeterred by your hostility. "But it's not like you to forget your homework," He teased, leaning in closer. "There must be something distracting you. Perhaps... thoughts of me?"
As if on instinct your hands reached out to push the unbearable boy away from you and you immediately got up at his incredulous words. You saw the way laughter bubbled and slipped from his lips, mocking you which only added more fuel to the evergrowing fire.
"In your dreams, Nott," You retorted, your voice laced with venom as you rose from your seat, your movements quick and determined. "I would sooner volunteer for a Dementor's kiss than waste a single thought on you."
Theo’s smirk only widened and his eyes gleamed with mischief. "Oh, believe me, the feeling is mutual," He quipped, his voice dripping with amusement as he rested his chin on his palms, his gaze never wavering from yours.
You huffed out an angry breath before picking your stuff up and stalking to the opposite end of the classroom. Luckily, he didn’t follow and you were left in peace for the rest of the detention.
//
It had been a week and a half since your detention yet Theodore Nott hadn’t approached you once since. In fact, you hadn’t seen him around school a lot, not that you were paying attention of course. It was just weird. Usually his face would pop up in front of you multiple times a day yet he was nowhere to be found. You had even lingered around the Slytherin table at lunch to see if he would show up but he never did.
There was this sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. Even though you did despise Theo you had known him since he was a kid and he never was one to skip lessons much less disappear for over a week. Even his Slytherin friends didn’t know where he went.
That is until today. The moment you had walked into the dungeons ready for your Potions lesson you spotted him. There was a part of you that hoped you would see him today, after all he was your Potions partner. But there was something wrong. His face looked gaunt, pale, sapped of life and his eyes were merely blank as he sat unmoving. His usual demeanour was replaced with one of hollow emptiness.
“Where have you been Nott?” No response. You frowned as you looked at him, he seemed to not even hear you. “Nott? Have you suddenly become deaf?”
“It’s none of your business.” He snapped voice obviously laced with malice as the words cut through the air. The sharpness of his tone caught you off guard, a twinge of hurt gnawing at the edges of your consciousness despite the fact you both had said worse to each other.
You chose to ignore the fact that Theo was obviously in a sour mood and sat down beside him, unpacking your things. There was nothing special about the lesson, nothing that you needed to particularly pay attention to. Not that you did since you were too focused on trying to figure out what was wrong with your partner. Theo didn’t look okay, not in the slightest. He seemed exhausted and his sluggish movements proved you correct as he diced the various ingredients.
You were in the middle of stirring the cauldron when Theo dropped a dandelion root in the mixture causing it to bubble and spit. The concoction spilled onto your hand and you shrieked at the sudden burning sensation that seemed to consume your hand in flames. The sensation is unbearable, a sharp, burning agony that seems to penetrate deep into your very bones. By now the whole class had stopped to look at you not fully registering what had happened. You turned to Theo, tears threatening to fall from your eyes at the pain but he stood there frozen, an expression you couldn’t decipher on his face.
“Theo-”
"Fucking hell, L/n." He spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "Would it kill you to not be such a clumsy moron? You could've hurt me as well. How can you even call yourself a witch?"
His words were sharp and spiteful. Through the many years of knowing Theodore Nott he had never blamed you for something he did. He might have been an incorrigible prick but he would still apologise if he had ever hurt you genuinely. But as you looked at him you couldn’t recognise the cold harsh look he gave you and you bit back your tears. You wouldn’t cry in front of him.
Despite the fact your hand was in pain you felt something tighten around your chest and it made the air around you feel thick as if you couldn’t breathe. You stood up angrily, opening your mouth to snap back but your vision starts to fade, black spots invade your senses and that was the last thing you remember before you tumbled to the floor.
You woke up a few hours later as you felt the sun shine on your face. You blinked, disorientated, as you tried to get used to your surroundings. The familiar walls of the infirmary materialised and you felt some ease at knowing where you were. Confusion still gnawed at your mind as you struggled to piece together what had happened. How had you ended up in the infirmary? And why did everything feel so hazy, as if viewed through a foggy lens?
Your gaze drifted to your hand, the source of the searing pain. And there, wrapped in a pristine white bandage, lay the answer to at least one of your questions. The memory flooded back in fragments, disjointed and incomplete.
Theo's careless mistake, the scalding mixture splattering across your skin, the sharp cry of pain that had torn through the air, all of it came rushing back with startling clarity.
“Miss L/n you’re awake!” Madam Pomfrey’s voice cut through your thoughts and you saw the woman make her way towards you hurriedly. “That was a terrible burn you had, lucky I had some burn-healing paste on me otherwise you would have had an ugly scar.”
You were still a bit dazed, trying to piece together how you even managed to make your way here. You distinctively remembered collapsing to the floor but that was where your memory stopped and it refused to give you any more.
“Sorry Madam Pomfrey but do you know how I got here? I really can’t seem to remember.”
“Oh dear.” The nurse frowned at your condition. “Mr Nott brought you here. He’s been here the whole afternoon. He's only just popped to dinner. I'm sure he’ll be back. Merlin, the boy did look worried.”
You resisted the urge to scoff at her words. Theodore Nott, worried. Not a chance. He probably only brought you here because Slughorn insisted, and he couldn't risk getting on the professor's bad side. No, you highly doubted he cared about what had happened to you.
The memory of his harsh words repeated in your head like an echo that refused to go away, a reminder of his indifference to your situation. And yet, despite your efforts to brush it off, a bitter laugh escaped your lips. Why were you even upset? After all, the two of you were experts at hurling mean insults at each other. It was practically a pastime.
Rather you should have been mad at the fact he was the one who caused you to get this injury anyway. If it wasn’t for his stupid mistake you wouldn’t be in this predicament. Then again, you remembered his movements, how his usual nimble fingers were fumbling the ingredients, how he stared at the pages of his book as though they were in a foreign language. Something wasn’t right.
“You’re awake.”
The words startled you and you spotted the Slytherin boy approaching your bed as his face held the same blank expression as before. He sat down beside you and your eyes narrowed. You shuffled away, not wanting to be near him.
“I’m sorry.” He murmured quietly and the words caught you off guard. “These past few days just haven’t been the best and-”
“That’s your excuse?” You bristled at his pathetic apology, hoping that you had misheard what he had said. “You mess up our potion resulting in me getting hurt and then hurl insults my way trying to blame me for what happened. And you think simply saying ‘I’m sorry’ is enough? Using the excuse of having a few bad days as your way out?”
He stayed silent allowing you to continue.
“Theodore Nott, you always were an idiot.” You spat, the words tinged with disappointment. “But I never expected you to be such a heartless prick.”
As the final syllable fell from your lips, a heavy silence settled over the room, punctuated only by the shallow rise and fall of your breath. You held Theo’s gaze and as you studied him you noticed something you had failed to notice before. The dark circles that marred the skin beneath his eyes, the redness that rimmed their edges. The weariness that had been etched into his features.
“I went home.” He finally said, breaking the silence with his words. “Father sent a letter saying it was urgent, that I needed to return home at once.”
You felt yourself deflate and your gaze softened. Theo and his father had never been on the best terms and ever since his mother died they drifted apart even more. Suddenly his attitude made sense and you felt the guilt seep into your senses.
“Turns out his urgent matter was that he found himself another potential wife. Some poor woman to endure his torture and he wanted to happily announce it to his son. He burnt all of my mother’s belongings and if I hadn’t stopped him he would’ve gotten rid of her grave as well.” Theo scoffed bitterly and you saw the way he was trying to stop the tears from falling. “That bastard calls himself my father but not once in his life has he ever cared about me.”
A heavy silence enveloped the both of you as you sat not uttering a word. You knew that he had always struggled with the strained relationship with his family. The death of his mother had resulted in Theo being distraught for weeks as he relived the nightmare whenever he closed his eyes.
“I’m not going back there. I’m never setting foot in that house ever again.”
You placed your hand on his shoulder as you tried to offer some sort of comfort. His eyes locked with yours and you saw how his tears glistened as they fell silently. You felt ropes tighten around your heart and you squeezed his shoulder gently. It had been a long time since you saw Theodore Nott cry. It was a rare sight but that was what made it that much more painful.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” You whispered. “I honestly…I’m so sorry Theo. He really doesn’t deserve a son like you. You’re incredible, you know that? You might be irritating and loud and downright infuriating at times but he doesn’t deserve you because you’re amazing Theodore Nott. And, Merlin, if I’m saying that then it must mean a lot because we both know my word is golden.”
You offered him a small smile and your heart warms when you see one tug at his lips too. He looked away for a second and you saw his eyes land on your bandaged hand and he winced.
“I really am sorry for messing up our potion. I didn’t mean what I said, you’re a brilliant witch Y/n, you always have been. I was just being a prat, I’m really sorry.”
“It’s fine, it’s honestly nothing bad. My hand will probably already be back to normal, I heal quickly you know.” You paused as your smile faltered and you chose your next words carefully. “If…if you don’t want to return to your house, you can always go to someone else's.”
Theo chuckled as he shook his head. “No one is going to accept me into their house without turning me into my father.”
“I will.”
Silence. Theo looked at you, confusion clear on his face but your gaze was strong and he could tell you had meant what you had said. You felt yourself flush at his stare and you realised your hand was still on his shoulder and you quickly removed it.
“Accept you into my house I mean. My parents love you and you know they haven’t been on good terms with your father ever since what happened. We would be more than willing to take you in.” You watched as his face contorted into expressions that you couldn’t formulate. “That is if you promise not to fill my bathtub with toads again.”
Laughter fell from his lips, cascading like a melody. He lifted his hands to wipe away his tears that had been streaking down his face. His eyes no longer held the blank emotionless look but rather a certain warmth that you had missed seeing. Your grin widened upon hearing the sound and you found yourself joining in.
“At least you look pretty-”
Your words were cut off abruptly as Theo leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a sudden and unexpected kiss. You froze, unable to comprehend what exactly was happening as disbelief rippled through your body. His hands found their way at the back of your neck and you feel his thumb caress your cheek tenderly. You were still in shock when he pulled away and the last few words of the sentence you were about to say tumbled out of your mouth.
“-when you cry…”
You blinked as your mind tried to grapple at what had just happened. Theodore Nott had just kissed you. Theodore Nott, the boy you had despised since you were five, had just kissed you. He kissed you. Kissed…you. Immediately, your body erupted into flames and you felt your face flush hot at how close the both of you were.
“Your body temperature has risen extremely quickly.” Theo teased and you felt yourself grow even hotter.
“Shut it.”
“Like you’re actually a human radiator.” He continued undeterred by your glare.
“Nott if you don’t want to lose your head I would advise you to shut up.”
Theo grinned and you felt your heart stutter at the sight. “Oh so now I’m back to being Nott? What happened to Theo?” He said his name in a high pitched croon in an attempt to mock your voice and you smacked the backside of his head which only encouraged his laughter.
“You’re actually going to be the death of me.” You groaned as you slumped back down the bed, pulling the covers over your face as a feeble attempt to hide yourself from the pretty Slytherin.
Theo poked your arm and you peeked out to find him staring at you with a bright grin on his face.
"Don't worry." He reassured you, his voice light and teasing. "I'll make sure to stay by your side forever and ever, like a blood-sucking parasite."
“How romantic.” You drawled as you rolled your eyes, trying to maintain a facade of annoyance as you retreated under the covers once more.
“Aren’t I just?”
You ignored Theo’s playful whines for you to let him see your face. Your heart threatened to break out of your chest as you tried to calm yourself down. But even so, you were unable to stop the grin that spread across your face. Maybe, just maybe, forever wouldn't be so bad with Theodore Nott by your side.
#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott imagines#theo nott imagine#theodore nott imagine#theo nott x reader#theodore nott fluff#theo nott x y/n#theo nott x you#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott x you#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#theodore nott smut#theo nott smut
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Green eyes in the fear fog.
For half a second, Steph thought today would be a decent day. But no, not in Gotham.
Steph's current events professor, who was also the head of student affairs, had offered extra credit to help give college tours. Look, she had to take the extra credit she had to, even if it meant that she had to be a tour guide. It wasn't hard, just annoying.
The group was small, only five people, but two of them stuck out. A brother and sister. The brother was the definition of adoption bait blue eyes, black hair, vigilante tendencies withholding. The sister was at least as tall as Jason. She had orange hair just like Babs, you'd think they were related.
Anyways, Steph's new mission was to make sure the kid and Dick never met. The kid would not stop making puns. Some of them earned him a laugh but some earned him a smack from his sister.
"Aw, come on, Jazz, it was funny."
"You can do better." she shrugged.
" Sounds like a challenge." A wicked smirk appeared on his face.
" Danny, please don't."
"Challenge accepted."
Yep, I'm definitely keeping him away from Dick.
But something was off about them other than looking at the crime capital's university. They could probably be metahumans. Their eyes seemed to slightly glow blue. They carried themselves as they had already expected danger. I mean, it pays to be prepared, especially in Gotham, but they aren't from here.
If the siblings weren't already on a list B has they should be now. Jazz had been almost ecstatic when we were moving through the psychology department. Danny was practically bouncing off the walls when it was time to go through the engineering and physics departments. Definitely should keep an eye on them.
It was reaching the end of the tour in the cafeteria. Another weird thing about the siblings was their reaction to food. They seemed to have this sort of optimistic curiosity like they were happy to have food to eat, but at the same time, they were poking to make sure it wouldn't attack or something.
Talking with the siblings was interesting too. Danny was buzzing about the engineering department. He went into a great rant about a project that Wayne Enterprises was working on in the aerospace engineering division. Maybe she should keep him away from Tim, too.
The conversation died quickly when a shriek rang out from down the hall. Steph turned quickly to see green fear toxin fill the cafeteria. Swarms of people ran for the exits knocking each over. She quickly dug through her bag and pulled out her gas masks, one for her and her backup.
"Jazz? Jazz, where did you go?" Danny called. They must have gotten separated.
Damn, she needed another one for the siblings. She shoved her spare into Danny's hands.
" Put the mask on and head for the exit."
"But I need to find Jazz."
"I'll find her. Put the mask on and go." Steph yelled as she went further into the fog. Quickly, she sent an alert to Oracle. Signal is on patrol right now, but more bats might show up.
It was dense she could barely see in front of her. There was some noise up ahead. Someone was screaming. The yelling grew louder as she rounded the corner.
"Stop! Get away!"
It was Jazz. She was practically growling. Her fist slammed into the concrete wall, leaving a deep impact. She was clearly affected by the Fear gas. A meta affected with fear gas, not good.
"Stop! Don't hurt him. He's not a monster! He's my little brother!" Jazz had gone from fury to sadness as she practically begged for her hallucination to stop haunting her.
If it wasn’t the meta thing it was whatever she was hallucinating that caught Steph’s attention. Definitely on B's list now.
"Isn't it interesting what fear does to the mind?"
Steph saw Scarecrow emerge from the fog.
"I saw you in the psychology department. Your eyes lit up like a fire. But now they are clouded with fear."
A chill went up Steph's spine. She quickly checked her mask for leaks but didn't have any. Turning her attention back to Jazz and Scarecrow, she saw something. Green eyes shifted inside the fog. They looked like a predator hunting its prey. For a second, they look like Jason's.
From behind Scarecrow, the eyes stopped, and a figure emerged. A baseball bat slammed into Scarecrow's face, knocking him to the floor. The figure came into full view now. It was Danny his eyes were glowing green.
He knelt down to Scarecrow.
"You really don't have any brains. Do you Scarecrow? If you did, you wouldn't have hurt my sister." His voice was downright, frigid.
He turned and rushed over to Jazz who was still trying to convince her hallucinations to stop.
"Jazz, it's okay. Come on, I'm fine. It's okay." His voice was soft and gentle as he helped her up. Jazz mumbled a little as she stumbled down the hall.
Steph quickly caught up to the siblings slinging Jazz's arm over her shoulder.
"Sorry, I couldn't help earlier," Steph spoke quietly.
"It's fine. Not everybody can be a hero."
Steph wanted to laugh at the irony of that statement, but she just nodded.
"Sorry about the tour too."
"It wasn't all bad."
" Oh, the rouge attack and poisoning wasn’t bad?" Steph asked sarcastically.
" Our hometown is haunted and our community college is funded by my godfather. And he is a rich fruit loop.”
‘Ghosts?’
“You know Gotham University is funded by Wayne Enterprises right?”
“Annoying crazy fruit loop or weird himbo? Hmmm. Yeah, I’m going to have to go with the himbo on this one.”
Steph laughed at that one. Bruce is going to want to hear about this but she’ll keep him away from these siblings for a little while.
#dcxdp#dpxdc#dc x dp#Danny and Jazz visit colleges#Steph is the relucent tour guide#Had a vivid image of Danny emerging from the fog to beat Scarecrow pop into my head it turned into this.#why does my brain get ideas when it is time for me to sleep why?
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Everything is Alright pt 6
Starscream x Reader- angry
•What does it say about you that you’re starting to look forward to your daily conversations? Besides the screamingly obvious conclusion that you have a bad case of Stockholm’s, anyway. For a giant, probably evil, alien robot, Starscream isn’t exactly awful. Snarky, insecure, and narcissistic, but not awful. And honestly, those flustered, little wing fidgets or startled silences when you play along or agree with him are kind of adorable.
• You’re definitely losing it. The big mech has become a confusing tangle of emotions in your chest. He’s your captor. He’s funny and surprisingly almost kind when he wants to be. He’s dramatic. He’s… a friend? Because, yeah, maybe you are getting a bit protective of the giant alien keeping you prisoner and maybe your heart aches every time he’s surprised or thrown off kilter by a tiny bit of kindness or compassion. Like it’s something he rarely gets.
• So when the door to his quarters slides open, you stand with a genuine smile, hand lifting in greeting only to freeze. That’s not your giant alien. Breath locking in your lungs, you slowly back away to the far side of your enclosure as two robots remarkably similar except in color to your robot enter his space. Sure, you’d realized that there had to be others as terrifying as the thought was, but he kept you hidden away like a secret.
• “We shouldn’t be in here,” the blue one grumbles, optics scanning the room with what sounded like trepidation. Or guilt. “He’s been weird lately. Keeping to himself.” The purple and black one starts opening drawers to root through the contents while you pray that they don’t turn, because your stupid, clear cage is right at their eye level.
• You’re still backing away when you step on the edge of your blanket, the material sliding under your heel as you yelp and fall. No, no, no. Don’t look. Don’t- crap. Both of them turn at the same time and stare right at you.
• “Is that… a human?” Blue alien is frowning as the purple one shoulders past him to stare at you as you do an undignified crab walk to scoot away to the other side of your prison until your back hits the wall. The purple one is grinning now as he reaches to hook a servo over the top edge of your box and tilt it. You go sliding to thump against the hard surface, heart racing as he tilts the cube further until you’re looking almost straight down at the floor below. Does he realize a fall from the height will kill you? Does he care?
• You’ve seen that cruel, amused glint in Skywarp’s optics before. If he’d been human, he’d have been one of those boys merrily hunting down ants to incinerate with a magnifying glass. And now you’re the ant. “Cut it out, Skywarp,” the blue one growls, but he doesn’t move to intervene.
• Instead of stopping, Skywarp reaches his free hand in and you fling yourself back to try and avoid being snatched. That only makes him flatten you against the far wall hard enough your head smacks the surface, stunning you. And then he’s grabbing you in a much too tight grip, lifting your limp, unresisting body free.
• You wonder if he’ll crush you or drop you. Ribs screaming at how tight his grip is, you can’t get a clean breath. Maybe he is going to just crush you slowly. Behind him, the door opens and you catch a glimpse of red armor, relief nearly making you sob. Starscream.
• Freezing just inside his quarters, Starscream’s optics narrow on his trine before alarm jangles through him. Skywarp has the human, its face ruddy as it weakly struggles against his grip. Anger spills through him in a dark tide as he bares his denta. “You dare?”
• “What?” Skywarp demands, voice all cruel amusement as he tosses the human up to catch in his hand. You scream, the sharp sound choking off suddenly. “Why do you even care? It’s only human.”
• You’ve seen Starscream angry before. At least, you thought you had, but this? As he charges at Skywarp, his face twisted in savage fury, you don’t recognize him. He drives Skywarp back, one of his hands seizing the other mech’s wrist and squeezing until he yelps. His other hand prying you free from Skywarp’s grip. It’s not gentle when he snatches you and there’s going to be bruises, but you’re too shocked as he snacks the muzzle of the weapon on his forearm into Skywarp’s face in a very obvious threat.
• Then the other one is there, trying to calm them both down as Starscream presses you to his chassis. You can hear him venting, the rough sound ending on soft growls. You feel like you’re in a fog, aware of the three arguing, but unable to focus on the words. How hard had you hit your head when Skywarp had pinned you? Exhausted, you lay your cheek against Starscream, soaking in the warmth and trying to shut everything else out.
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Hello I am a huge fan of this fanfic your doing, but can I please request, the grid watching a spicy scene of her show? Or her in a body suit type like the picture below? I think Carlos reaction would be funny
Of couse! I had so much fun writing this! My request are OPEN and feedback is always welcome.
-XoXo
The unexpected red-flag
The conference room fell into stunned silence as the rain drummed relentlessly against the windows. The TV murmured in the background, its volume turned low, but it was the soft, melodic voice of Amira Sainz that cut through the quiet.
News had spread like wildfire: Baby!Sainz, the beloved sister of Carlos, would grace the third season of the renowned Netflix series “Narcos”. The drivers, usually a rowdy bunch, now sat in hushed anticipation. For Carlos, this was more than just excitement; it was a lifeline. His sister’s return to the family was long overdue, and the chance to witness her artistic brilliance on screen made his heart swell.
Yet, their busy lives as racers left little room for leisure. Days blurred into nights, filled with data analysis and the adrenaline rush of the track. But fate intervened during the red flag at Spa, where the heavens unleashed torrents of rain. The perfect opportunity arose: why not start watching “Narcos” during this unexpected break?
Surprisingly, it was Yuki who suggested it. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he proposed the idea, met with a chorus of enthusiastic “yeah’s” and “omg, yes!” from the other drivers. Carlos and Oscar, absent at the moment, would soon join the impromptu viewing party.
And so, they embarked on their journey into the world of drug cartels, corruption, and intrigue. They skipped scenes where Amira wasn’t present, eager to witness her talent firsthand. But little did they know that the next scene would unravel secrets and twists they never anticipated.
Let's just say Amira Sainz looked good with and without clothes. Throughout her spicy scene, the drivers were so silent. They all looked at her dreamily on the TV when she kissed the guy and started taking of her clothes and-
"¡Eh, estúpidos idiotas! ¿Qué demonios estáis haciendo? ¡¿Por qué demonios estáis viendo a mi hermana desvestirse?!" questioned an angry Carlos. As soon as he saw his little sister on the TV he went into full overprotective big brother mode.
Instantly, Logan shot back, “It’s not what it looks like,” while Fernando chimed in with a soothing “Hermano, you have to calm down.” Meanwhile, Lance attempted diplomacy: “Carlos Boy, we can talk like adults.”
The other drivers rallied, attempting to quell the hot-blooded Spanish driver. But amidst the chaos, Oscar slipped away, drawn by curiosity. He cornered Lando, who was practically bursting with excitement.
“I can’t believe I missed this. How was it?” Oscar leaned in, eager for details.
Lando’s eyes sparkled. “Oscar, you should have heard her speak Spanish. And her hair—oh, her hair falls down her back like—” His words were cut short.
“LANDO NORRIS! STOP TALKING ABOUT MY SISTER, YOU CREEP!” Carlos’s voice thundered across the room, drowning out the rain and the TV.
From the commentator box outside, a muffled sound reached their ears—a high-pitched scream. Lando Norris, usually unflappable on the track, had met his match in Carlos’s protective fury.
#carlos sainz x sister!reader#charles leclerc x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#alex albon x reader#george russell x reader#lando norris x reader#oscar piastri x reader#daniel riccardo x reader#lance stroll x reader#pierre gasly x reader#yuki tsunoda x reader#baby!sainz!sister
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This has been on my mind recently I oughta say it. Shipping culture is soooo annoying sometimes. Sometimes pairings can be damn funny, right? But most of the time it's obnoxious!! Instead of exploring any interesting dynamic people decide to turn two characters into the same cookie cutter cis-het (even with gay shit they give it cis-het feel I GUESS) runs a coffee shop together bullshit. Not fully but it has that vibe?? After a fandom ship machine is turned on the characters go from like. Neon to beige. If that makes any fucking sense. And maybe they fuck. Whatever. Fine. But it's all sooooo annoying to me. "durrrr I don't care about the beauty of nuance and complexity of human relationships I want them to have 5 kids and a dog and a white picketed fence!" I'm going to lift you up from the ankles and shake you til your lunch money falls out. YOU'RE LAMMMEEEE!!!!! NOT EVERYTHING IS A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP OR DIE ALONE CIRCUMSTANCE YOU ARE LAME AND BEIGE!!!!!!!
#fury funnie scream#bonus if you want me to vomit MORE:#it's even worse if it's an established platonic guy/girl friendship#anyway this form of shipping culture makes me want to brush my teeth and gargle mouthwash every time this happens#I feel petty for being annoyed by something that does not fucking matter in the grand scheme of things but like#I'm not the only one here right??? hello can anyone here me??
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When Wei Wuxian Stops Giving a Fuck
Wei Wuxian spends 95% of the novel being so polite and charming and funny and kind that I think people honestly forget how terrifying and decisive he can be once you exhaust his patience. These are some of my favorite moments when Wei Wuxian stops being nice to people who absolutely never deserved it:
Wei Wuxian found the scene unbearable. “After so many years, the Lan family is still like this,” he thought to himself. “They’re still affecting that stupid, undying self-restraint. Hmph. Watch this!” He spat at Lady Mo and said, “Who the hell do you think you’re screaming at? Do you think they’re your servants? These people traveled through half the country in order to help you for free. What exactly do they owe you? How old is your honorable son? He should be at least seventeen this year, right? And he’s still ‘a child?’ How old does he have to be to understand human speech? Yesterday, didn’t these cultivators say several times not to touch anything or approach the western courtyard? Because your son couldn’t stop himself from pilfering what isn’t his, as though he were a starving dog stealing chickens in the night, you’re blaming me? You’re blaming them?”
—Chapt. 4: Feral III, fanyiyi
[Jin Zixuan's] blood grew hot and he blurted out, “If she’s unhappy, then let her break off the engagement! I certainly don’t cherish your wonderful shijie. If you cherish her so much, why don't you take it up with your father? Doesn’t he love you more than his own son?” After hearing the last sentence, Jiang Cheng’s eyes narrowed, and Wei Wuxian was no longer able to contain his own fury. He flew at Jin Zixuan, his fist raised. Though Jin Zixuan had been prepared to defend himself, he hadn’t expected Wei Wuxian to hit back so quickly. The attack started before he had even finished speaking, and when the fist struck him it immediately caused half his face to go numb.
—Chapt. 18: Elegance VIII, fanyiyi
Wen Chao’s complexion switched between red and white. Wei WuXian added, “Right, what was the accusation given to those who insult famous cultivators of the Wen Sect again? How should they be punished? I remember that it was execution, right? Yes, very well, you can go die now.” Wen Chao couldn’t hold himself back any longer, unsheathing his sword and lunging at Wei WuXian. With that, he lunged out of Wen ZhuLiu’s range of protection. Wen ZhuLiu had always been used to defending against the attacks of others. He had never expected Wen Chao to leave by his own will. Facing the sudden difficulty, he somehow couldn’t react in time. On the other hand, as Wei WuXian provoked Wen Chao, he was precisely waiting for the moment of uncontrollable rage. The smile by his lips didn’t falter at all as he attacked with the speed of lightning. In a split second, he had snatched the sword and reversed the situation, subduing Wen Chao with just one move!
—Chapt. 53: Courage, exr
After he said a few harsh words to her, standing where she was, Jiang YanLi had burst into tears. When Wei WuXian returned, this happened to be the scene that he saw. Although his shijie had an easy temper, except for how they cuddled and cried together the day the three of them reunited after Lotus Pier was destroyed, she hadn’t really shed many tears in front of others, much less cry so loudly, so pitifully in front of so many people. Wei WuXian was filled with panic. As he tried to ask her, Jiang YanLi was crying so badly that she couldn’t even speak properly. Then, when he saw Jin ZiXuan standing on the side, astonished, he fumed with anger, wondering to himself why it was the dog of a person again. With a kick, he pounced on Jin ZiXuan. The fight between the two would have alerted the Heavens. All of the cultivators around the base came to break up their fight. Amid the ruckus, he finally understood what was the cause of all this, and became even more angered. He spread his tough talk, saying that one day he’d definitely make Jin ZiXuan die in his hands, he told people to drag out the cultivator woman. A round of questions later, the truth emerged, and Jin ZiXuan’s entire body was frozen. No matter how much Wei WuXian continued to curse at him, he returned neither words nor fists, his face dark.
—Chapt. 69: Departure, exr
Hearing this, Wei WuXian’s smile disappeared at once. He asked, “Discipline?” He turned his head slowly, “A crooked path?” Lan WangJi’s voice was low, “Wei Ying.” Jin ZiXun and the others noticed the unusual atmosphere as well. Holding their breaths, they looked at him. Wei WuXian smiled again, “Do you know why I’m not carrying my sword? It wouldn’t make a difference if I told you anyways.” He turned around, stating one word at a time, “Because I want you to know that even if I don’t use my sword, with nothing but what you call a ‘crooked path’, I will still rise unparalleled and leave all of you staring at me from behind.” With his words, all of the people present were shocked speechless.
—Chapt. 70: Departure, exr
Wei WuXian, “Cut the nonsense. I’m sure everyone knows that my patience is limited. Where is he? With so much time wasted on you, I’ll give you three. Three!” Jin ZiXun wanted to resist, but when he saw Jin GuangShan’s face, he felt his heart shiver. Wei WuXian began again, “Two!” Jin ZiXun finally yelled, “... Fine! Fine! It’s just a few Wen- dogs. Take them if you want to. I’m not fooling around with you any longer! Go find them at Qiongqi Path on your own!” Wei WuXian laughed coldly, “If only you said it sooner.”
...
The group felt their scalps tingle and their blood run cold. The head inspector stammered, “The YunmengJiang Sect and the LanlingJin Sect have been getting along with each other. You mustn’t...” Hearing this, Wei WuXian glanced at him, his tone amused, “You’re quite brave. Are you threatening me?” The head inspector hurried, “Of course not, of course not.” Wei WuXian, “Congratulations to you for successfully draining all my patience. Since you don’t want to speak up, let’s let him answer on his own.” As though it’d been waiting for his words for a long time, Wen Ning’s frozen corpse suddenly moved, raising its head. Before the two nearest inspectors could even scream, each of their throats was clenched by a hand as firm as iron. ... He suddenly spun around, putting his hand on Wen Ning’s shoulder before shouting, “Wen QiongLin!” As if a reply, Wen Ning let out a long, thundering roar. The ears of everyone within the valley ached. Wei WuXian spoke one word at a time, “Whoever caused all of you to be like this, let them meet the same end. I give you the right to do so. Settle everything!” Hearing this, Wen Ning immediately crashed the two inspectors that he was holding together. Like exploding watermelons, the two heads immediately let out a loud bang, sending red and white flying everywhere.
—Chapt. 72: Recklessness, exr
He walked beside the person whose words were the harshest and ground his foot against the person’s face, laughing, “Talk. Why aren’t you talking anymore? Mr. Hero, just what are you going to do to me?!” The person’s nasal bones had broken from the force, bleeding and screaming uncontrollably. Many cultivators were watching from on top of the city gate. They wanted to help, but they didn’t dare approach the scene. One of them shouted from afar, “Wei... Wei Ying! If you’re really that strong, why don’t you go find those sect leaders participating in the pledge conference? What could you prove by picking on us low-level cultivators with no power to fight back?” Wei WuXian let out another short whistle. The cultivator who shouted felt as a hand suddenly tugged him down. He fell off the city gate, breaking both of his legs, and began to scream. Amid the wails, Wei WuXian’s expression didn’t change at all, “Low-level cultivators? Do I have to tolerate you, just because you’re low-level cultivators? If you dared say those things, you had to dare shoulder the consequences. If you knew that you were insignificant pieces of scum as filthy as ants, how come you didn’t know to think before you speak?!” Everyone was as pale as ash, making not a single noise. A moment later, when Wei WuXian didn’t hear any more chatter, he continued in satisfaction, “Yes, that’s the spirit.”
—Chapt. 77: Nightfall, exr
One of the cultivators who stood in the front rows of one of the arrays commented bitterly, “Wei Ying, you disappoint me so much. There used to be a time when I admired you and said that at least you were someone who founded your own sect. Now that I think about it, it’s almost repulsive. From this moment on, I’ll forever stand on the opposite side of you!” Hearing this, Wei WuXian first paused, but soon exploded with laughter, “Hahahaha...” He laughed so hard that he almost couldn’t breathe, “You admired me? You said you admired me, but why haven’t I ever seen you when you admired me? And as soon as I’m loathed by everyone, you jump out and wave your little flag?” Tears of laughter seeped from the corners of Wei WuXian’s eyes, “Your admiration as a bit too cheap, isn’t it? You said that you’ll forever stand on the opposite side of me. Very well. Does the fact that you’re standing on the opposite side of me affect me at all? Both your admiration and your hatred are so, so insignificant. How could you be so shameless as to flaunt them in front of others?”
—Chapt. 78: Nightfall, exr
Just because a person is kind does not mean that they are unconditionally kind. Nobody is obligated to tolerate bullshit forever, and I am really glad that mxtx wrote Wei Wuxian as a character with clear boundaries, limits, and an understanding of when he needs to remind people who tf he is.
#xiantober#mdzs#human metas mxtx#happy bday wwx from me 💝#there are probably a lot more scenes#but these are the ones that live rent free in my head#don’t cry that you’ve been burned after sticking your hands in the fire#wwx may have a great temper but it is not inexhaustible#and it shouldn’t be! that’s why i love mxtx protags!#it’s always ‘fuck around and find out’ with them!
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how would fb!chris react if someone roofied dealer!r's drink???
fb!chris' reaction to somebody lacing dealer!r's drink . | ( female reader ) wc ?? ( masterlist ) + ( request )
꒰ა " some things you just can't explain, like the way you're stuck in my brain . " ໒꒱
the music is too loud, bass shaking the walls of the frat house like it’s trying to knock the place down. red solo cups litter the floor, a mix of spilled beer and sticky jungle juice making the place reek. you're leaned up against the kitchen counter, your usual spot for scoping the scene, your eyes scanning the crowd. a few familiar faces nod your way, a silent acknowledgment of what you're there for.
chris is on the other side of the kitchen, nursing a beer and cracking jokes with nate and tyler, two of his closest boys. he’s got that lazy smirk on, the one that makes girls linger a little too long, leaning in for a brush of his arm or a laugh at something he said that wasn’t even funny. but his eyes keep darting back to you, watching the way you keep your head on a swivel, how you don't smile at anyone unless it’s to close a deal.
you've got your cup in hand, the bright red plastic clashing against your dark nails. you aren't drinking much, just taking a sip here and there, yiur other hand in your pocket like you're waiting for the right buyer to make their move.
"yo," tyler nudges chris, pointing toward the living room where a group of freshmen are trying and failing to get a keg stand going. "you think we should step in before someone breaks their neck, or nah?"
"let 'em," chris mutters, but he’s only half paying attention. his eyes flick to you again, narrowing when he notices some guy standing too close. it’s luke, one of the guys from the frat. he’s leaning in, saying something to you, but you're not laughing or smiling. your face is blank, uninterested. typical.
“you know her or something?” nate asks, following chris’ line of sight. “nah,” chris lies, taking a swig of his beer. “just watchin’.”
watching turns into glaring when luke reaches out, his hand brushing against your arm as he hands you a fresh cup. you hesitate before taking it, your eyes narrowing just slightly. chris catches the shift in yiur expression, the way you sniff the drink before taking a sip.
something feels off. he doesn’t know what it is, but his gut is screaming at him. he pushes off the counter, walking toward you just as you sway slightly, your hand gripping the edge of the counter for balance.
"yo, you good?" he asks, his voice low but sharp, cutting through the haze of the party. you blink up at him, your eyes glassy, and shake your head like you're trying to clear it. "i— i’m fine," you mutter, but your words slur, and that’s when he knows.
his jaw tightens, his eyes snapping to luke, who’s standing there with that smug, lazy grin like he didn’t just cross a line. “what the fuck did you put in her drink?” chris growls, stepping in front of you like a shield. luke’s grin falters, but he shrugs, trying to play it off. “man, chill. it’s not a big deal.”
"not a big deal?" chris barks, and then he’s swinging before anyone can stop him. his fist connects with luke’s jaw, the crack echoing even over the music. luke stumbles back, clutching his face, and then it’s chaos. the other frat boys rush in, trying to separate them as chris lunges again, his eyes wild with fury.
“chill, bro! he’s not worth it!” nate shouts, grabbing chris by the shoulders and dragging him back as luke scrambles to his feet, his lip bleeding. “get the fuck out,” chris spits, pointing at luke, his chest heaving. “now.”
luke hesitates, but the look in chris’ eyes makes him backpedal, shoving his way through the crowd and out the front door. the room’s still buzzing, everyone whispering and watching as chris turns back to you. you're sitting on the counter now, your head in your hands, trying to steady yourself.
“hey,” he says, softer this time, stepping closer. “you good?” you look up at him, your eyes clearing just a little. “i’m fine. just... dizzy.”
“yeah, no shit,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “c’mon. you’re not staying here.”
he doesn’t give you a chance to argue, just grabs your hand and leads you out of the house, ignoring the stares and whispers. when you get to his car, he opens the door for you, watching as you sink into the passenger seat.
“you didn’t have to do all that,” you say quietly, your voice still shaky. he glances at you through low eyes. “yeah, i did. and if that asshole shows his face again, he’s done.”
you don’t respond, just lean your head against the window, your eyes fluttering shut. and for once, you don't argue or push back. you just let him take care of you.
taglist : ( @emely9274 ; @bluestriips ; @loveparqdise ; @flouqissss ; @st4rcs ; @starwebber9 ; @conspiracy-ash ; @sweetrelieef ; @chris-hallelujah ; @leoslaboratory )
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Five Times Carol Danvers Kisses You
Summary: The five times Carol Danvers kisses you until you two finally get together.
Warnings: Mentions but nothing explicit, a lot of fluff, mutual pining (and typical angst of trope), best friends to lovers, pre-canon-compliant (takes place before Carol is taken), kissing, happy(ish) ending. | Words: 4.836k
A/N-> As mentioned on this blog before, I absolutely love the dynamics of "Five Times Something" and after watching The Marvels I became obsessed with Carol Danvers, and here I am with something about my beloved blondie. It's short and sweet, and I didn't want to write anything too angsty but you can get hints of what's to come from the canon (Dr.Lawson being a Kree in disguise and what will happen to Carol). But the fic doesn't address this directly and ends up with a happy scene. Let's all live in denial.
General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad
-&-
One.
“This is not a place to raise a child” was the justification your father used when he left. Funny enough, he didn't take the child, you, away from all the high-tech military weapons that he described as inadequate for a child to grow up around.
His lost, it what your mother said, an easy smile on her lips while she offered you a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. She still had some grease on her jacket and a lot of dust on her hair but she looked beautiful. That was just how things were for Wendy Lawson.
And because she was the best mom anyone could ask for, or at least that was what you would perceive it with your limited references of healthy families. She was the best because she would let you sit around while she worked for the Shield, casually teaching you advanced engineering like it was the same homework you had from secondary school.
That was the only life you knew: Afternoons of trying to stay out of the way of Shield Agents and their big weapons until you were old enough to have a gun yourself.
But before that time came, some of them worried you weren't having a decent childhood. Away from guns at least.
You don't know which of the Agents suggested to Doctor Lawson the kart track, but you wish you could thank them. Your mother, as the busy cientist she always has been, was not available to be around all of the evenings you wished to spend there but she trusted your independence to use the bus after school. Besides, you had the impression that there were always Shield Agents keeping an eye on you no matter where you went.
Só for three whole years, that old place was your favorite. You would run out from the classroom with the first ring of the bell to get to the kart track as fast as you could, and for all those three years, you were also the best runner there.
Of course, it cost you some bloody noose and bruised hands. Especially with sore losers little boys who were very unpleased to be second placed by some random girl. There were also the parents, who would whisper not very lowly on how absurd it was to let an unsupervised little girl in such a violent activity.
As luck would have it, someday you were no longer the only little girl around.
The Danvers were local, and you always thought there were only three of them. The grumpy father and the loud and popular sons. But one day, the one with the warmest smile, the youngest son brought someone with him.
His little sister's name was Carol. She had her blonde hair tied down and she looked ready to punch anyone who gave her a hard time. All the Danvers kind looked the same to be fair. Blonde, strong and angry.
Unlike her brother and their free pass to do as they please, Carol was constantly reprimanded by her father. Even there, in front of the whole crowd and runners, he would scream and pinch her ear, adding to the fury that shone behind Carol's little blue eyes.
The other children would whisper just like their parents but growing up with spies and secret agents gave you this second nature to sneak in and out of places without being noticed. You weren't supposed to hear some of the adults whispering how Mr.Danvers drank more than he should or how his older son was leaving next summer for the army with a purple eye he didn't get in the training. You weren't supposed to but you did.
So the next time Carol crashed a car with one of the other runners, you messed up your perfect record to help her.
Her dad screamed again, as usual. But he left, muttering she could find her way home since she was so clever and Carol had those thick tears in her eyes that made them bluer, so you were helping her before you could give a second thought to it.
She didn't mind that you took her hand and brought her to the administration lobby. She's more interested in knowing how the hell you knew how to get there in the first place.
When you told her you grew up with spies she laughed thinking you were joking. You decided to tell her more stories in the hope it would distract her from the pain of the cuts she got in her legs from the crash.
It worked.
Carol had colorful patches on both her knees when you two sneaked out of there to the bus stop. You could take her home if she wished because you knew a lot about public transport but Carol smiled and said she could do it alone; Her dad was often not around and with soldiers brothers, she knew a lot about doing things by herself.
Yet, she appreciates the gesture and the thought. Her bus should be here in 25 minutes so you sit next to her and let your healthy knee brush her bruised one.
“My name is Carol Danvers by the way.”
You have to chuckle at her line.
“I know who you are, Danvers.” You retort with an easy smile. She looks up with curiosity. You chuckle again. “You know your name is on the scoreboard, right?”
She laughs, almost shyly. You don't know that yet but Carol is not the best at making friends. Especially girlfriends because apparently, every girl hated how not 60s girly behavior she acted on as much as any boy.
You didn't mind. If anything, it kinda made you like her more.
“You didn't have to do that back there you know?” She starts over, fingers tugging at the bandaid you put above her knee. “Lose the race to check on me.”
You shrug, eyes on the road. “No worries. There'll be other races. Besides, you're the only real competition I get there. If you're not participating, what's the fun in winning?”
Carol's cheeks grow a little hotter, but you're both too young to know it has nothing to do with the sun above your heads. You offer her a smile and she gets up to signal to the bus.
But before she leaves, she turns to you again.
It's quicker than her crash that morning, the thank you little peck on your right cheek but is as meaningful as losing a three-year Invictus status on a track race for someone.
Carol nearly flees the scene once she catches the first glimpse of surprise in your expression. You were caught off guard, that's all. But all you can do is laugh to yourself as you watch her run to her bus.
Tomorrow, when you are back here, you'll find Carol so you can share your lunch with her. Today, you would walk home with no clue why the spot she kissed was tingling.
-&-
Two.
Shield Academy is not the army.
It is, as the name suggests, an academic program for the gifted-minded. It's a place where a child who grew up surrounded by the brightest minds on the planet can get it easily.
Well, of course, there's a lot of studying and tiring exams that you wouldn't describe as easy but when taking everything into consideration, the only place a brainy - or huge nerd as Carol would call it - could end up was there.
So while you had big dark blue sweaters with the Shield logo on them, Carol had worn out public school uniforms.
But she was doing okay. In fact, if anyone asked you, even though you were the nerd one in that friendship, for you, Carol was quite brilliant. She had a quick mind and such a strong, well, everything. She was as clever as she was kind. She was passionate about anything she cared for and she was easily your favorite person.
The kart track gave space for the public library and the green plains behind Shield Academia as you two grew up. Carol would take her bike from across town and spend the whole day after school in those green yards with you. Often, she had a football with her while you had a book.
And while you tried to escape your Shield colleagues, Carol would find her spot at your side. She would watch those training agents and wish to be like them, while both of you knew she would follow her brothers to the military when the time came.
But for now, you're sixteen. And Carol has been your best friend for almost 6 years now. You're not sure if friends have anniversaries or if it's something reserved for dating, and since you're not gonna ask any of the agents around, especially not Doctor Lawson, you just assume is okay to get Carol a gift.
She had been wishing for a walkman for so long - she had three already, all broke down during some of her naughty antics, from jumping into the reservation without remembering to take them off her backpack to get into a fight with older kids who thrown her stuff just for the fun of it. So yes, she had those before and she loved music but somehow she always ended up breaking them so you thought maybe because you were the one gifting it, she would be more careful.
You were right of course, but that's hardly the point.
Carol started to act strange after the gift. Even days later, during movie night at her house, she got quiet, which is definitely not a Carol Danvers kind of attitude, so you started to wonder if the present was a good idea at all.
That of course, until Carol clarified the whole thing.
“I got you something too. For, hum, the anniversary thing.”
You pinched her ribs, the nearly shy behavior was such an odd thing to testify that was actually terrifying you. Carol has been your best friend for way too long for that or anything to be awkward between you two.
But then again, adolescence makes everything weird.
You don't open the gift very graciously. Because you were in the middle of movie night, of course, hands full of popcorn butter and Carol was being weird and suspect that you just wanted to put an end to it.
You chuckle at her worn-out team jacket there.
“So your gift to me is your jacket?” You asked with a confused frown, watching your friend struggle with her words the next moments.
“No, I mean yes. But not, just that.” She starts and it's quite the scene. Carol Danvers not being able to talk when that's all she does. “It's my favorite jacket. I… really like it.”
“Do you want it back then?” You suggest with a confused laugh but Carol shakes her head immediately, her cheeks rosy.
“God, no, that’s not…” she takes a deep breath. “I like the jacket, a lot, but not as much as I like you. So I thought, maybe if I can give you something that I really like, it will mean…”
“Oh, I get it.” You say with a smile, holding the jacket against your chest as Carol switches the weight in her foot. “Thank you, blondie. But you don't have to give me your favorite stuff to show me you like me. You don't have to give me anything at all really. Perhaps, all you have to do is say it and I'll believe you.”
Carol nods, shallowing dryly, and without missing a beat, she repeats her words from before: “I really like you.” It's nearly a whisper, and the way she struggles to hold your gaze tells you everything you need to know.
You smile, aware of the warmth spreading in your cheeks and ears.
“I really like you too, Carol.” You tell her and with no hush, you put her jacket on. The blonde in front of you takes a shaky breath once the jacket is properly around your body. You're distracted with the new outfit to take notice of the new dark shine her eyes hold. “Gotta admit it, Danvers, I could totally worm the athletic style. I mean, I look super cool don't I?”
But your question goes unanswered. Carol moves forward, her hands grab the collar of the gifted jacket and just like the first time, she kisses you quicker than you can manage to process.
Her lips are dry against yours because she's nervous. Trembling and terrified. You pull away, and Carol has her eyes closed tightly, breathing unevenly.
You take a deep breath and lick your lips to moisten them a little and the second kiss is much better.
There's this soft noise she makes when you move your mouth but the second you feel her tongue on your lower lip, there's noise around you two.
As if getting electrocuted, Carol jumps away just in time for her evidently drunk father to stumble inside the garage.
Carol is not eight anymore, but she's the only one left in that house. Her older brother taught her five different ways to break someone's noose, but Carol still shakes like the leaves if her father is around with his harsh words and angry looks.
This time, however, he takes a long glance at you both. The guilty looks, accelerated breathing, and he just laughs.
The only thing he says is a slur that makes Carol flinch. Then he turns his back and climbs the stairs to his bedroom, passing out in the hallway before he can make it through.
“Carol, I-” You try but she forces a smile and nods at the door.
“Please go.” She asks. “I have to take him to bed and you don't have to stay.”
“But-”
“Please.”
You leave. And Carol doesn't bring up that night for the next two years.
-&-
Three.
Graduation means Army. More specifically, the Air Force because of course Carol Danvers wants to fly away from everything and everyone.
“Not everyone.” She frowns when you tell her that. Then she smiles, legs brushing yours at the back of her truck. “I would love to have you up there with me.”
You chuckle, giving her shoulder a little bump with your own.
“Sorry Blondie, you know I hate planes.” You joke but the shine in her eyes is deeper now.
“What about spaceships?” She insists it.
You sigh into the night, pensive for a second.
“Well, Mom would probably love it if I ever suggest anything that involves flying.” You say, breaking into a chuckle as your hand moves to the leg you have bent in that position, which allows you to trace your fingers toward your ankle. “Of course, anything other than my secret little Pegasus.”
Carol gives a compliance smile at the mention of the secret tattoo you got on her seventeenth birthday but continues to watch you in silence.
The stars are shining bright above you two, and the parked truck gives as much privacy as one could get in that neighborhood. If you and Carol weren't girls, people would make conclusions.
Perhaps they’ll do it anyway.
“What would I even do up there, Danvers?” You ask her because Carol is so passionate about flying that you're starting to wonder if she is able to see a whole different world up there that you can't.
This time, her hand finds you before her lips. She brings her fingers to yours resting on the truck and locks them. She gets closer and closer and gives you all the time in the world to push her back.
But she's Carol, and she's beautiful and she's your best friend. Why wouldn't you want to kiss her?
There's tongue this time. Hesitant at first then curious, until finally hungry. Of course, Carol Danvers is a good kisser, this asshole.
You break apart, to complain with a husky tone that is unfair but Carol only chuckles before kissing you again. And again. Until somehow you end with your back against her truck, painting into her mouth.
And Carol is seventeen years old and she's a huge virgin like you who really wants this to change tonight. Not just that, of course, but she's still a teen and that's exactly what she chooses to say in order to make this less life-changing than it is.
Because sleeping together as a way of ending high school without the V Card has a completely different meaning than sleeping together because you really want to ruin a friendship.
You swallow at her suggestion, aware that the heat in your veins doesn't cover for the way your heart just broke inside your chest.
But you smile and tell Carol you love her, making sure it sounds platonic. Just to hurt her just as much.
It works, but she kisses you anyway.
-&-
Four.
Maria Rambeau is the most incredible person you have ever met. She's clever and fun and kindhearted. It's so easy to love her and it comes so naturally, that you can't really blame Carol.
You also have no right to be jealous, you tell yourself.
After all, Carol asked more than once for you to at least consider following her to the Air Force. You both had military families, so it made sense for her that you both ended up following the same path.
You were not entirely excluded from that, of course. But unlike Carol with her soldier training, you had medical classes. And while she and Maria learned to shoot people, you learned to heal them.
That of course until the third year, when Carol's training moved to space crafting and yours moved to biological charts. The Pegasus was not the only military project available for you, and being home was good but every time you caught a glimpse of the empty fields near the station, you remember afternoons with Carol and the lack of her ache a hell lot inside your chest.
But visiting her at the base and then at a local bar was a bittersweet occasion.
Because time went by and Carol made a new friend. A lovely and brilliant and apparently less confused woman new best friend. Maria who made her laugh and blush and was such a great company that you couldn't hate her no matter how much the jealousy burned inside your veins.
Somehow, no matter how many dove eyes Carol threw at Maria, she didn't catch them. Immune to her charm entirely. You kinda wished she would teach you that.
The last free week you had was spent visiting Carol and ending up in a bar. But Maria's night was continuing with a good-looking soldier somewheres else, so yours and Carol's would continue with cheap drinks.
It was probably common sense, not to mix alcohol with feelings but you and Carol clearly skipped that class.
You ended up pressed behind the bar's wall in a messy attempt of drunken make-out with your former best friend.
Carol tasted like beer and the army's year changed her. Even drunk, she knew her way around a woman's body now and you had to force your stupid brain to stop wondering about who she had been practicing with. Perhaps Maria was not immune to her charm as you thought she was.
Just as things were getting out of hand, that is, it was probably against some army rules to have sex behind one bar in the military area, Carol pulled away.
She looked so good like that, with messy hair and flushing cheeks, her lips swollen due to the whole thing.
But her eyes were so sad. And you couldn't push the alcohol and the lust away to have clear thoughts on that.
“We can't do this again.” She declares with a seriousness that makes you swallow hard. “I can't.”
She stumbles away and you nearly slip down the hall on your shaky legs. Carol is looking for her car keys but she will definitely fall asleep on the seat.
To be fair, you kinda wished that night would end in her car seat, just in very different scenarios.
“Why not, Danvers?” You manage to question once the anger pushes a little of the alcohol away. Carol sighs tiredly. “Why?” You almost scream and she stops in her tracks, turning to give you a hurt look.
“I can't do this again, okay?” She retorts and she's drunk but she's so hurt. You can see it in her eyes and it kills you to think it is something you have done it. “I don't have the strength in me to get over you again”.
Your world freezes for a whole second. Your mouth is bitter suddenly.
“O-over me?” You repeat her words, confusion mixing with the pain you feel growing in your chest. “When… When were you under me?”
The question is the best of what your drunk brain can come up with but it's enough for Carol to understand.
She lets out a sad chuckle. “C'mon, Lawson. How could you not know? Everyone did. Even my dad, especially my dad.” She corrects herself then, bitterly before taking a deep breath. “It's past. It doesn't matter anymore. We are no longer kids, messing around with things we don't understand. I know what am I. And I know we shouldn’t. I won't jeopardize our friendship again for someone I cannot have.”
There are tears in your eyes, and Carol has the fucking worst timing in the world because your brain simply can't catch up with the meaning of this conversation with all the booze in the way.
“Carol, what are you even saying?”
She just smiles, giving a nod to the bar.
“Let's get inside, I'll get you a cab back to your hotel.”
She doesn't let you question further and the next morning, when the hangover barely allows you to open your eyes, Carol says the worst thing you did last night was try dancing with a Statue.
-&-
Five.
Doctor Lawson has been acting strange lately. She says it's work stress when she returns your calls and ignores your advice about her retiring.
You use your mother's stress as an excuse to come home, and it seems ridiculous that you have to invent reasons to see Carol, but she gives you no choice. Things have been very strange between you in recent months.
The house is a mess, and it's the first time you've worried about the possibility of dementia.
Strange phrases, disconnected words. You think about calling the head of Shield when you put Dr. Lawson to bed after making her some hot tea, but you end up calling Carol.
Your former best friend brings her old truck into your garage.
"Hey, blondie." She hugs you first at the greeting, and you sigh with satisfaction at the contact. You almost forget the stress of the whole meeting with your mother. "It's good to see you."
"I missed you." Carol says with a smile, squeezing you tighter before letting go. "What happened? You sounded worried on the phone."
You sigh before telling her everything you saw, standing there leaning on Carol's truck in the dim light of the garage. It's her turn to sigh when you finish.
"Good thing I brought beer." She comments, getting a laugh out of you.
You don't even notice the time passing that night, but it's like being back in senior year, sitting side by side in the back of Carol's truck, forgetting the world around you for a moment.
When the case of beers is about to run out, you've said almost everything you have to say. Carol thinks she needs to add something more.
"I know the circumstances aren't the best but... I can't say I'm sad." She begins, looking straight ahead, a half-full can of beer in her hands. "With the possibility of you coming to live here again, I mean. I've kind of hated Washington since you left. And Shield too, for taking you away."
You giggle shyly at this and don't know what to say to Carol, so you just decide to hug her. But you're a bit dizzy after the third beer and miscalculate your approach. You end up too close to her face and can see almost in slow motion how the blue darkens or how Carol chokes on her breath.
"I'm sorry, I-" you begin in a hoarse voice, but she doesn't let you finish. The beer can slips out of her hand as she uses both to pull your face towards her.
It's an intense, messy, and passionate kiss. Carol swallows all the sighs that escape your lips as she presses her mouth to yours. Her tongue doesn't ask for passage. You melt against her and try your best to match her energy, suddenly feeling very dizzy, unrelated to the beer.
Her hands move from your face to your neck and down to your waist. Carol mentions pulling you onto her lap, but the balcony lights flicker on and she grunts as she pulls away.
You're still blinking spellbound at the whole thing, trying to catch your breath as she stands up, adjusting her hair.
"Fuck, I shouldn't have done that." She mutters more to herself than to you, hoarse and upset. You swallow dry. "I'm so stupid."
"Carol."
"You're so fucking stupid, Carol Danvers, I swear to God." She ignores your call, continuing to curse quietly to herself. You frown, but end up looking at the porch; your mother has woken up and looks just as lost as before and you really need to check on her.
When you get out of the truck, you touch Carol on the shoulder, and she turns around almost in despair.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that, I'm leaving-"
"Carol, shut up." You cut her off and don't let her say another word.
She shuts up immediately. "I really have to get back inside, and make sure my mom doesn't turn on any water or store the cat in the fridge again." You chuckle apologetically, stroking her cheek. "But I need you to understand that this isn't a mistake, an accident or a thoughtless act after a few beers. At least it isn't and it never was for me. We need to start talking to each other."
Carol nods quickly, swallowing as she looks down at your swollen lips. "Yeah, talking is good."
You smile, and hear the sound of the cat in the house and think you'd better start running. "Later, okay?"
"Later."
But your mother doesn't have dementia. She's not even allowed in a regular hospital. Shield is strangely private about everything, but you're practically coerced into signing confidentiality papers about the current state of Dr. Lawson, who seems to miraculously improve after spending an hour in a room with other agents.
Carol is the only person you can talk to about things, and she has news of her own.
"Maria is pregnant." She tells you, with a twinkle in her eye, without waiting for you to finish absorbing the news. "And she wants me to be the godmother!"
You're happy for Maria, especially perhaps because she's seeing that handsome soldier and she and Carol have nothing going on. Also, you need to tell Carol that you can go back to Washinton now that your mother is better.
"Oh, I thought..." The blonde hesitates as she hears the news, trying not to look upset by forcing a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "I thought you'd decided to stay."
You're having breakfast in the living room of your house, Dr. Lawson is working upstairs. You swallow the bitter feeling of hurting Carol again.
"I would, for Mom. But why would I stay in Louisiana?" It's a rhetorical question because you both know very well what would make you stay. Carol laughs sadly, looking down. You get tired of pretending. " I would stay for you. I would stay for... us."
She looks at you in silence, a conflict of emotions on her face. "Don't be ridiculous, you can't just give up your career for a friendship-"
"Carol." You cut her off seriously, and she choked on her sentence, her eyes as tearful as yours. You give her a small smile, trying to ignore the way your heart is pounding in your chest. "You know that's not what I'm saying."
She swallows dryly, and despite reaching out to take your hand, she insists; "I'm gonna need you to say it."
"God, you're such an asshole." You gasp with emotion, laughing as tears of happiness escape yours and her eyes. Carol also laughs but waits. "Okay, Danvers. You've got me. I'm completely, irrevocably in love with you. I have been for a long time, maybe since the first time I saw you. And I'm sorry it took me so long to tell you."
Carol almost knocks over the coffee table when she moves in to kiss you but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
#carol danvers x reader#carol danvers fics#captain marvel x reader#captain marvel imagines#captain marvel#marvel imagines
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"I hear the whispers in your eyes."
~ Taylor Swift (imgonnagetyouback) Pairing: jegulus - Rating: T
"Potter!"
Regulus found himself nearly screaming across the empty corridor as he followed James Potter out of the Room of Requirement, fuming.
Potter turned, looking both shocked and pleased. "Reg?"
"Don't call me- You've been messing with me all night!" Regulus accused him, jabbing a finger directly into his chest, fury coursing through him. "Why do you think it's so funny to do that, hm?"
But Potter looked confused. "I haven't said anything to you all evening, Regulus," he said, wrinkling his nose.
But Regulus was not going to let him get away with it that easily. "Oh, don't give me that shite. You've been- been-" but he trailed off, trying to find the words to describe what Potter had been doing.
"Been...?" Potter egged him on, raising his eyebrows.
"Flirting!" Regulus burst out, feeling stupider by the moment. "You- your eyes! You keep looking at me! Like you- like you want to-"
And for one sickening moment, Regulus thought he'd imagined all of it. All of the heated looks he'd seen Potter throw him across the room. Until Potter took a deliberate step closer to him, maneuvering him so his back hit the wall, taking up all of his space. "Like I want to what, Reg?" Potter asked in a deep, quiet voice, his pupils darkening and a smirk forming on his face.
"Oh, you absolute arse," Regulus tried to rant, but his tone came out more breathless than angry. "You decided to- to look at me like you want to shag me, then just walk away? Just leave? That's low, even for you, Potter."
But one of Potter's hands reached up, fingers tracing over Regulus's chin, and Regulus couldn't help but shiver with the contact. "Or maybe I wanted you to follow me, Reggie," Potter murmured, grinning, meeting his eyes with a heavy gaze.
"That's-"
But Regulus was cut off by a searing kiss, and suddenly, he wasn't angry anymore.
#marauders#marauders era#harry potter#fanfic#marauders fandom#harry potter marauders#the marauders#the maruaders#the marauders fandom#the marauders era#james#james fleamont potter#james potter#james x regulus#james and regulus#james potter/regulus black#james potter x regulus black#regulus black#regulus arcturus black#james loves regulus#regulus deserved better#jegulus#jegulus microfic#jegulus fanfiction#starchaser#sunseeker#ttpdmicrofic
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My messy thoughts on the new episode
(spoilers for Ghostf**kers)
tldr I LOVED this one the animation saw POPING OFF the writing was great, it was well paced, everything. I just wanted to ramble so here i am talking to no one:
Ok right off the bat i had to pause this like 7 times in the first five minutes because the beginning of this is just packed with insane jokes, glass to see they havent forgotten about being a comedy show
It’s so sad to see Blitzo in this state, especially that it’s been over a month. Like look at this guy he is GOING THROUGH IT.
also this was uncalled for how can you do me like this?
ok like my one problem i don’t like this little Scooby-doo reference with old people. I just skipped it and lost nothing, i don’t know why this is here.
the fight between Blitzo and Millie in the vents was also really well done im so glad Millie is putting up boundaries on dealing with everybody elses Bullshit.
I also don’t hear anyone talking about this but Vivinie Williams (Millie’s VA) did so well in this. Like all the voice acting in this show is peak but I’ve only really heard praise for Brendon and Bryce. Their argument here specifically, the fury in her voice was so well done, bravo.
JESUS CHRIST THEY DID NOT NEED TO GO THIS HARD this scene has been stuck in my head for the past two days, Brandon killed it in he recording booth, the animation is also just so VICERAL. Also the way the fire starts from his hands because he blames himself for it, like Viv went too far with this one. That was not ok.
Bitzo’s panic attack was also done so well. Little detail but i love that when Blitzo screams “Don’t touch me!”, Millie respects this and doesnt, instead comforting him with words. They only touch when he’s calm and ready. Love that.
Bro i was NOT expecting a flashback on how Millie met Blitz, also Millies design slays so hard
the way I gasped.
I also didn’t realize how much I needed an episode focusing on these twos friendship until now. Like FINALLY a Millie episode that doesn’t suck!
Little thing i realized but notice how Blitzo doesn’t make a sex joke at this. Blitzo. Not making a provocative joke. Really just goes to show how UNCOMFORTABLE and SCARED he is. I physically recoil every time I see this it’s gross
Those flashback scenes were also just so brutal. Like chaining his horns so he’s FORCED to watch is so psychotic I can’t.
its kinda sad that Blitzo’s whole motivation for doing this is to distract himself from his feelings, when that’s what he’s literally forced to confront by Ronaldo.
Love a possession story. I can really appreciate how Millie does not believe Ronaldo for a second, she knows that Blitzo would never think that of her and she trusts him enough to be confident in it. Nice subversion, you go girl.
This was so needlessly brutal and funny, they really went all out with this one
Yeah I think that’s all I wanted to day, just again i loved this one and it was definantly worth the multiple-month wait. Though my Hyperfixation has mostly died im hopeful that it will resurrect soon. We’ll have to wait and see.
#helluva boss blitz#helluva boss millie#ghostf**kers#helluva boss ghostfuckers#helluva boss#show analysis#hyperfixation#helluva boss ronaldo#ranting into the void
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Family Game Night
"KIDS IT'S AN EMERGENCY!!!" screamed Batmom hoping for her family to come down quick.
"Mama, are you okay? do you need anything?" said Dick in a panic tone ready to do CPR.
"Mom, what happened?" said Tim but was pushed on the floor by the youngest Wayne, "Ummi are you ok?" Finally came her baby bird Jason who seemed calm but was ultimately dying to kill whoever hurt his mother.
Bruce who was right next to Batmom, shook his head in disappointment. "Kids calm down your mother is fine, right Honey?"
"huh, yeah, I just wanted to play a board game," Batmom said rather cutely showing two Monopoly board games in her hands. The kids and her husband couldn't say no. She even convinced Alfred to join but he rather be the banker.
It started out fine but........ "Give that to me, you landed on my property!" exclaimed Damian.
"No, I did not, quit cheating demon spawn!" Jason said in anger. It was funny for the family to see Jason a grown man fight with a 12-year-old child.
But then the chaos erupted, Tim thought it would be funny if he threw some of the mini properties at Jason and blamed it on Damian. "Don't blame me," Tim said to Damian in fury. "Well it wasn't me," said Dick. and that was when it turned to World War III.
"We have to hide honey," said a worried Burce. "What about my Babies", said Batmom. "Those are no longer your Babies, I'm sorry honey", said Bruce. He pushed you and Alfred Behind the table and stood up tall, closing his eyes waiting for the Hurricane.
But nothing happens. He opened his eyes and saw all his kids sitting on the floor surrounded by the mess they caused, they looked Happy even JASON. Bruce Helped his wife and Alfred up, and both were surprised to see the kids so happy and calm.
They decided to stop playing the board games for tonight not wanting to cause World War IV, and instead watch a movie. No distractions, no fighting just peace till.... "GET YOUR HANDS OUT OF MY POPCORN!!!!", screamed Damian.
#batfam x reader#bruce wayne x reader#batmom#batman#batfam x batmom#batmom imagine#batmom imagines#batmom!reader#bruce wayne#jason todd#damian wayne#dick grayson#tim drake#damian al ghul#family game night
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Everything Is Alright
Chapter One
Rolling through the clouds, Starscream almost feels free. Everything dragging at him left behind far below. Up here, the paranoia and anger can’t hold him. He can think. So it’s an effort to make himself land, transforming at the last minute so his peds gouge up dirt and rocks as he slides. And reality sinks back in like it always does as soon as he’s grounded again. Up there, he sometimes just thinks about not stopping. That maybe he could just fly away and leave the hurt and frustration behind. He never does, though. He can’t.
There’s nothing really here, just thickly wooded land and a winding ribbon of asphalt running through it. Nothing to indicate there’s energon here. Venting softly, he maps out the terrain. It’s such a little thing that he almost misses it. A branch among the trees cracking. And he turns toward it, arm lifting.
That small move saves his life. There’s no mistaking the Autobot spy lunging at him, denta bared like a feral beast. A blade humming in his fist that almost sheers through a wing and drives into his side. Reeling back with a cry, he spots the little scout raising his own weapon. And he’s transforming even as his wound pour energon and scream at him. Thrusters igniting and bowling Jazz over. Knowing he’s not bought himself any time at all.
Scrap. Just like every other time he reaches, everything’s gone sideways. All the intelligence Starscream had received in his reports had indicated that the Autobots were unaware of the energon deposit the Decepticon scouts had picked up on their scanners. Supposed to have been only a recon mission to get a better lay of the land. Not an ambush. Meaning someone had set him up. He should be used to it by now, it shouldn’t still have the power to hurt him.
Turbines screaming, Starscream can feel the wound in his side and wing pulling. Too much damage to get any altitude, so now he’s down over a wooded stretch of road. Every attempt to climb sending darts of tearing pain through him and spurring the Autobots to double their attacks. Trying to ground him, because once they do it’s over and they know it as well as he does. Pain burns white hot as his own fury through him even as he steadily loses altitude and any hope of just flying away from his pursuers. No, that wing is hanging on by a prayer to Primus and pure, unadulterated spite as he drops even lower. His wingspan too wide for the narrow road he’s flying over as he dips down below the trees and feels the tips of his wings cracking branches to rain down into the road. Every impact jarring through him, trying to tear him apart.
Not that the debris is doing a blasted thing to deter the two Autobots in pursuit. No, Bumblebee and Jazz are right there, still firing on him as they swerve around the bigger branches. It’s almost funny that he’s going to be brought down by only two of them. It’s insulting.
He rolls slightly around a curve, wingtip scraping the asphalt in a spray of paint-scraping, painful sparks. Knows they won’t give up the chase. Can’t now that he’s bleeding energon and running like a startled turbo fox. Because while he isn’t exactly outgunned, he has little doubt that they’ve already called in for backup. Fury twisting about his spark, desperation claws at him.
Calling in his own? Having to beg for help even from his own trine? Weak. And weakness doesn’t survive long among the Decepticon ranks. Maybe Thundercracker and Skywarp won’t exploit that weakness to ursurp his spot, but Megatron would feel that it’s a teaching moment. And beat it into him with his fists. Besides, someone had tipped off the Autobots that he’d be out here. Betrayed again, even though at this point it really shouldn’t be a surprise. Another tight corner. So tired, but then that spark deep exhaustion is something he’s well and truly used to. He’s on his own, but that’s nothing new. When you can’t trust anyone, you learn to rely on yourself. To push harder, fight with the desperation of the cornered. They might bring him down, but he’ll drag at least one to the Pit with him.
Weapons fire peppering him, he swings another curve and there’s a car up ahead in the distance. For a moment, he thinks it’s over. That this is the reinforcements the Autobots must have summoned. But, no. It’s only a human. And an opportunity.
One more mile to get it together. Except, you’ve been telling yourself that for how many miles now? It’s been halfheartedly misting rain for the last several minutes, but you don’t bother to roll the windows up on your old sedan. Not when you desperately need the chilly feel of the wind sinking icy fingers into your hair and tearing at your ponytail to help numb the anger and stress just there under the surface. Because it always falls apart when you think that maybe this time you got it right.
But even with the speedometer pushing 65 on the wooded country road, there’s no outrunning yourself. Or stopping your mind from sifting through the fallout from your latest boyfriend. Letting the intrusive thoughts in. Like maybe he’d been right, and you hadn’t really made enough time for him. Even if you both worked crappy, full-time jobs that consumed more than their fair share of your time and energy.
If anything, it was as much his fault as yours, right? Hands going white knuckled on the wheel, you crank the rock and roll even higher to let the thump of the bass roll through your bones and send your thoughts flying. You’re out past the county line now, the road just an inky ribbon of asphalt snaking through the woods. Occasionally, the setting sun dazzles you through the gaps in the trees in piercing, painful flares of red and gold.
From the depths of your mind comes the thought that you could just keep driving. See where the road went until it ended somewhere on the coast. It was a lovely dream, but just that. You weren’t brave enough to just go. That’s why you still lived in the nowhere town you’d grown up in. Your foot settles a little more firmly on the gas pedal, slaloming around lazy curves as you try to shake off the mellow ache, because now you’re angry with him and yourself.
You could do it. Flip the proverbial bird to everything you know, especially your awful boss, and just nope off into the sunset without a plan. Probably end up living in the car if it didn’t break down before you even managed to cross the state line. It was funny in a decidedly unfunny way, because your own worst enemy? You. It’s always you.
Snorting at yourself, it takes a minute to register the new sound over the wail of an electric guitar pouring tinnily through your speakers. What is that? The fine hair at your nape prickles as it rolls over you, a thunderous scream that locks the breath in your lungs. Eyes darting up to your mirror there’s a moment of blank disbelief, because no. That’s not a jet right behind you, flying lower than a jet has any reason to as its huge wingspan sheers off branches in its wake. It can’t be.
There’s no time to argue with the impossible vision because the belly of the jet slams and scrapes along the roof of your car with an awful shriek, and panic lights you up. You haul at the wheel, foot slamming down on the brake and then you’re sliding on the wet road. Things get a bit funny after that. Trees right there and the noise of the impact. Your forehead bouncing off the wheel and then slamming back as the airbag deploys with enough force you’re stunned again.
Your world blurs into a confusing smear of impossibility when you lift your head and feel your heartbeat throbbing at your temple. For a moment, you can’t figure out the seatbelt, everything hurts, and your mouth tastes like old pennies.
In the distance, a rumble of thunder rolls as the buckle finally unclips. The door is partially dented in by the impact, so you crawl out the window, head pounding to match the thunder. But thunder doesn’t sound like that. This is a staccato thumping that makes no sense. Guns? Probably that jet exploding. Your awkward slide out of the car via the window isn’t dignified or graceful. Twisting to land on your hip instead of your face, you lift your head. Everything’s muddled and you definitely have a concussion. That’s the only way to explain whatever the hell it is you’re looking at. There are giant robots in the road and one of them has wings painted like the stupid, low flying jet that had tried to kill you. And they have guns. You don’t even know what to make of this particular hallucination playing out in front of you. Staggering up out of the ditch and onto the road, it feels like you’re on a ship, the ground pitching and rolling under your feet as your stare up at the nonsense. You definitely brained yourself good. Most likely, you’re still in the car bleeding out and this was your mind’s idea of a consolation prize. Except you’d never actually liked sci-fi or robots.
Turning unsteadily as your whole body screams in pain, you stare from the jet and its fiery red eyes to the other two imaginary head trauma robots. One’s yellow and the other is white with red and blue accents. And they’re not shooting the jet anymore. They’re just staring down at you in the same kind of dumb stupor that's weighing you down. Your legs get a bit cute on you and your knee thumps onto the road. Feeling the grit and loose gravel digging into you cuts through the hazy fog of pain and disbelief.
Because it’s real. And then the panic rears its head, screaming at you to run even as you freeze. You’d always kind of assumed you’d do well under pressure. That you’d at least do something. Kneeling there as the misty rain slowly chills your skin, you don’t move. You can’t. Not even when you see the jet monster lunge right at you, big hand reaching.
It's almost serendipity when the human staggers up into the road between him and the two Autobots. Gaping up at them with no sense of self-preservation or fear. Staring at him in the optics like he’s no threat to you. Brave, but so stupid.
Because his options are limited. How long until the Autobot’s backup arrives? Feeling the wound in his side pulling as he lunges, he’s only barely aware of Jazz’s cry. The human is softer than he expects, that soft flesh giving horribly against his servos as he catches you and lifts you out in front of him like the most ineffective shield ever. Aside from a wheezing sound halfway between a gasp and a moan, the human just hangs there in his grip, unresisting. Maybe broken.
All that matters is that Jazz and Bumblebee have frozen. Maybe it isn’t so ineffective. Because the Autobots are forbidden from harming organics. Especially humans. Baring his denta in a feral smile, he backs away from the two.
“Let the human go, Starscream,” Bumblebee says, voice as steady as the weapon still raised toward him in threat.
An empty threat. A laugh escapes him, his smile turning nasty. “No, I don’t think so.”
Whatever is inside humans is hot, sticky, and leaking unpleasantly against his servos. The sensation is almost enough to make him chuck you at the two idiots to buy himself some time. Small hands push at his servos as the thing in his grip shudders. You’re silent, though as you look up at him with big, terrified eyes.
Spark thrumming, he keeps moving back. They’re really going to let him go just because he’d nabbed a human with no survival instincts whatsoever. It’s too sweet to believe. Eerily quiet in his grip as you sluggishly leak red fluid from a gash on your head, those wide eyes meet his optics. Turning on his heel, he pulls you into his chassis as he transforms, pain rippling through him. There’s a terrifying moment of very real fear that his wing won’t hold. That he and his hostage will crash back down, but his turbines roar and he’s gone. Still can’t get any altitude, but they’re not firing on him. Not pursuing all because they might hurt the weak little organic he grabbed. It’s almost too funny to think something so stupid just saved his life. This pitiful thing’s life is worth more than his to them.
You’re no longer silent, he can hear your rasping gasps. Maybe transforming around you had finally broke through your shock. Something definitely had. He can feel your little hands scrabbling at his interior in a panic, the sensation causing his metal flesh to crawl all over. Because you’re inside him. Touching everything. Leaking that sticky red stuff inside him. The only consolation at all was that you aren’t screaming.
Yet.
“Keep your filthy little hands to yourself,” he snarls as you paw at the seam of his cockpit as if you want to be jettisoned. Nearly begging for it. As tempting as that thought is, the docile, little thing has potential. Namely as a way to keep the Autobots from firing at him.
Snatching your hands back, wide eyes dart around his interior. So, you aren’t quite as addled as he’d thought. Surprising. “It’s talking. The giant, metal death robot is talking,” you mutter, voice soft and raspy with pain as you tuck your hands against your chest.
“Starscream.” The annoyance is immediate and the human flinches at his tone, shoulders hunching. You don’t respond, though. Just make that weird, gasping sound as you look around for an escape.
Aside from a low, moaning when he transforms around you a second time, you’re silent as he keeps you trapped inside his canopy. One of your soft hands slaps against the glass to make him shudder, hearing your breathing becoming louder and more frantic. There’s the fear he’d expected. By some miracle, he makes it inside the base and to his quarters without getting stopped. Though, Skywarp gives him a look as he limps past. A low growl and a flash of denta enough to discourage his trine brother from needling him for the moment. Wondering if he walks past if he’s the one who betrayed him.
Closing the door behind himself, the pain of his ruined wing crests and threatens to wash over him. Servos gingerly touching his side and wincing when they come away wet with energon, he picks up an empty energon cube and pops his canopy. With a startled cry, you fall out into his palm, and he drops you into the cube. The walls are high enough that he doubts you can manage to get free and even if you do, where will you go? Placing the cube on a shelf, his optics narrow as you scramble to the far side of your prison, eyes wide.
Whether or not you’d meant to, and it’s definitely not, you’d saved his life. And he’s not sure how he feels about being in the debt of a human. Venting softly, he turns and leaves you to go find the medic.
You slide slowly down the smooth glass wall to land on your butt as your legs just give up. The apparently not hallucinatory, brain trauma induced, giant robot stuck you in a big, square aquarium and even though the top is open, you can’t get enough air. Or stop shaking as panic sank its teeth into your throat.
Reaching up, you gingerly touch your temple. There’s blood there, but sticky and not actively bleeding you think. And even if you’re not imagining all this, you probably, definitely, do have a concussion. You can’t motivate your shaking, noodle legs to stand, so you crane your neck to study your prison. The walls are much higher than you are tall and featureless. No way to get a good grip to climb out, even as you very briefly entertain and dismiss the idea of parkouring up the corner of the box to freedom, because that isn’t happening, and you know it.
Which leaves you all alone to wander the shores of melancholy regret in the silence of the empty room. There’ll be no seeing where any other roads go now. No second chances. You tunnel your fingers through your hair, pulling on it as you try to gather yourself. To think it out. Feeling miserable, you look around the big room. It's giant robot sized and surprisingly spartan. There’s a flat metal berth along one wall, a desk and chair, what might be storage drawers, but blessedly little else. No mementos of a life lived. No trinkets. Something about that nags at you, but you don’t dwell on it.
You’re not sure how long your big, evil robot, Starscream, is gone. Hours? You’re almost drowsing in your corner even as you shiver uncontrollably in the icy room. Apparently cold doesn’t bother giant robots, but then, it’d been very warm when you’d been trapped inside its interior. Any other time you’d have been ecstatic about riding in a jet. Fear for your life had soured the experience. You’d explored your head wound with tentative fingers and decided it wasn’t that bad. A little gash at your temple.
You bang the back of your head on the glass wall of your cage when the door opens, and your kidnapper returns. Those glowing red optics slide your way before dismissing you. That stare is weighing you and finding you lacking. Shifting to drag your legs against yourself, you watch it move to an oversized chair and slump. Teeth chattering, a new concern surfaces. This horror knows you need food and water, right?
“Almost brought down by two weak Autobots,” it mutters, dragging a hand down its face in a disturbingly human gesture. For an alien robot murder machine, its face is uncannily human. It reaches back to prod at one of its wings. It looks better than it had, you realize. “Nearly ripped my wing off.”
Was it talking to you? Unsure, you dart your tongue out to wet your lips. Somehow you hadn’t yet won yourself a Darwin Award even though you’d blundered into the middle of a fire fight between huge, angry robots while gawping like a hick tourist. Did you dare push your luck? “How dare they,” you say, voice a barely-there, raspy whisper. Mostly being sarcastic, although it’s more tired than anything else.
It hears you, though. That big head turns to stare at you, and you wilt as its wings flit up a little higher and the silence stretches. You shouldn’t have said that.
“Right?” Starscream demands suddenly, growling voice full of irritation. It sounds like a he, you decide. Though since it is whatever the hell it is, who knew. Staring right at you, he bares his denta in a smug snarl. “I could have destroyed them then and there with one servo.”
It’s almost funny as the alien death machine actually puffs out his chest a bit when you nod in agreement, teeth chattering. And then you run with it, playing devil’s advocate, because staying on his good side? Definitely a good idea. “They wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“Of course not,” he sneers, rising to tip his head at you with almost predatory interest. Drifting away to a wall, he retrieves a huge blanket and drops it unceremoniously on you. The material is soft as silk, but some chemical smell clings faintly to it. You still cocoon yourself in it, face poking out to watch your evil robot return to his chair and his sprawl. And the silence spreads between you, studying him since he’s studying you in return.
The shivers slowly ease, but don’t go away altogether. That doesn’t stop you from drifting off, though. Your sleep is thankfully a dreamless void that sinks its claws in and drags you under. It’s almost pleasant up until something bounces off your head and the pain you’d left behind in sleep screams through you. Along with the realization that you’re being buried alive. Clawing your way free, you fall on your face, swearing.
And look up to find Starscream staring down at you, his lips twitching in cruel amusement at your expense. Your heart runs wild, rabbit-fast in fear. Red optics shift behind you then back. Wary, you turn to look and find he’d buried you in a mountain of beef jerky, chips, soda, and- its food. He’s brought you food. That has to be a good sign, right? Why bother to feed you if he’s just going to squish you.
Sure, he could have not dropped it all on your head, but you aren’t about to tell him that. Just like you aren’t going to think too deeply about where the food came from either. It’s not like he can just waltz into a store and buy stuff. You’re snapped out of thoughts of sirens and explosions when you realize those fearsome optics are scrutinizing you. Waiting for your reaction?
“Thank you?” Your voice is soft and uncertain, but the big, scary robot freezes all the same. Those wings on his back flip up then back down. Like he’s surprised that you’d thanked him. Just like the complete 360 he’d pulled when you’d agreed with him before. Like your captor isn’t too used to being listened to or appreciated. And he not only loves the attention, he might just crave it. Fawning over him is a small price to pay for your life. And that smug, preening smirk paired with those little wing flutters? For a kidnapping, killer robot, he’s kind of adorable. Not that you’re ever going to admit that out loud. You like living too much for that.
You freeze when he reaches into your cage before scooting back from that massive hand. Unwilling to give up your warm blanket, you drag it with you and suck in a sharp breath when he cages you in his hand and lifts you out. His grip isn’t as rib crushing as the last time he’d snatched you up and you cling to his servos, heart racing as he places you on the desk.
Scrolling through reports, Starscream keeps an optic on his new- what, pet? Yes. A pet. Letting out a long-drawn vent, he works and tracks the human as you stand up still wrapped in the cleaning cloth he’d given you and dragging it along as you cautiously move around his desk. It only takes a low growl under his breath to discourage you from getting near the edge. Those big eyes dart up to him in surprise before moving away from the drop.
Satisfied that you’re not going to launch yourself to a stupid death, he resumes perusing reports. “Can you believe those idiots?” He grumbles to himself out of habit. “I told them that mine was unstable.”
He hears your quiet steps as you move closer to him, little face tipped up toward him. “They should have listened to you,” you say, the words surprising him.and he studies you. While your hair is matted with dry blood, it doesn’t look like the wound is serious since you’re up and about.
Were humans usually this astute or had he just picked a particularly smart one? His wings adjust slightly as he turns his attention to the tiny creature. “They never listen to me.” Reaching out he ghosts the tip of a servo over your head, surprised by how soft your hair is. And you go still under his touch, head lowering as he slides that finger down your back. Feeling the rapid beat of your heart against his servo.
He'd had a petro rabbit once, the tiny, fragile thing so trusting. It would eat from his hand and come willingly to him. Petro rabbits weren’t exactly clever, though. Couldn’t distinguish him from Skywarp and had died for it. And even though Skywarp had claimed it had been an accident, Starscream had never really let it go. Or believed him. Suddenly unsettled, he gently strokes over your head again. Soothing himself and his new pet.
Because this time would be different. He freezes as you lean into his palm, slowly relaxing. Your skin is colder than he remembered, and he frowns as he carefully curls his servos around you. And you shift eagerly into his warmth with a little noise of pleasure. His optics flit to the empty energon cube as you relax further against him, your own big eyes peering up at him trustingly. He'd never actually been this close to a human, he realizes. Certainly never touched one.
Venting softly, he uses his free hand to pull his datapad closer so he can finish going through the reports. Stiffening when you lay your head on his servo, little hands clinging as you soak up his warmth. Not sure what to make of your trust when he can’t trust anyone. So how can you trust him when you don’t even know him?
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