#he was winning only a few hours ago what the actual shit

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 3 – The One About That Guy, That Girl, and the Dragon

I’m just going to jump right on my magical pixie pony for this one – because why the fuck not? But, I promise this speculation has a foundation of fact. So, there’s that.

On Sunday, November 10, 2024 – seemingly out of nowhere – Zoe McConnell posted to her IG stories a picture of Nicola from a photoshoot from November 2022.  Yes, you read that right – 2022. Zoe reposted this to her stories exactly two years from the day she first posted it to her grid.

Why?

Uh, happy anniversary to the picture? [feel free to scratch your head in confusion because I sure as shit did – but only for a second]

Who cares about a photoshoot from 2022?

And, don’t even get me started on the weird ass suggestion this was a push for Nicola to win – what bullshit award show is up next? – People’s Choice Awards. Actually, do get me started on that because that theory just makes my eyes roll.  The only connection I see here is that the dress Nicola is wearing was from her 2022 Glamour Awards appearance.  What exactly does that have to do with People’s Choice? Nothing.

Now, forget all about that shit and keep reading.

What IS interesting about this post from Zoe is that, if you’re a certain creator or anyone who has ever read this certain creator’s timeline, you’d know that this picture is referenced in said timeline (P.S. My disclaimer today is that I am not a fan of said creator but that doesn’t negate the information she has distributed to the masses).

Here’s what happened two years ago:

On November 9, 2022, Nicola posted one of Zoe’s images to her own grid, thanking Glamour for her award. Luke liked this post.

On that same day, Nicola posted a second set of pictures from that same photoshoot. Luke did not like that post.

The following day, November 10, 2022, Zoe posted one of those additional pictures to her own grid. Luke liked that post from Zoe’s grid. But, he did not go back and like Nicola’s second grid post from the day before. Why? Why go to Zoe's grid instead of Nicola's to like the pictures? I could speculate on this for the next eight minutes but I’ll let you come to your own conclusion.

So, this past Sunday, Zoe posts to her stories a link to that November 10, 2022 grid post that Luke liked. Nicola reposted Zoe’s story to her own IG stories. If you’re a Nicola fan, I can probably guess what you're going to do next. You’re going to click on Nicola’s story – which takes you to Zoe’s page – and when you click on Zoe’s stories – it takes you to the original November 10, 2022 post, which Luke liked at that time.

Odd, that.

And, by “odd,” I mean odd in the fact that no one cares about a two-year-old picture. I mean, really, who fucking cares? Except Lukolas who see Luke’s like on the original post.

Let’s keep moving.

On November 11, 2024, Zoe was right back at it. She posted to her IG stories another picture of Nicola from the same photoshoot. This time it was the one Zoe originally posted back on November 11, 2022. Yay, another anniversary. Zoe put a cutesy little caption that read: “Princess Peach.” Nicola did not reshare this story. I mean, at this point, we’re all watching Zoe, right? No need to reshare because our Lukola interest has been peaked, in my opinion.

Then, a few hours after Zoe’s post, Rachell Smith, also a photographer, posted an old picture of Luke to her grid. This picture isn’t as old as Zoe’s but it does go back to May 2024. Rachell follows it up with an IG story of the same image with the song, “Lifting You” by Jungle. Take a moment and go look up the lyrics and meaning of that song. Fine, fine, fine. I’ll just tell you. The song is about being deeply committed and doing whatever is needed to make a relationship work (this, per Mr. Google). Rachell’s caption? “[O]ur knight and shining [Luke].”

Well, fuckety fuck fuck fuck.

We have a princess and we have a knight.

Interesting.

I mean, we grew up with this idea that the knight in shining armor saved the princess, right?

To be honest, yesterday, I had no clue what that was all about (and I really didn't care -- the seas have been rough for the USS Lukola lately) so I went about my day like normal.

But, this morning, the wheels and cogs in my head started working together.

I wondered how that ever came about – the idea that a knight saved a princess.

So, I asked Mr. Google: “Where did the story about a knight rescuing a princess originate?”

Okay, yeah, I see Perseus and Andromeda…and in Western culture….Saint George and the Dragon…

Wait --

What?

Saint George and the Dragon?

Nope. Not possible.

But, I was certain it was.

I scurried over to Tiktok to find the post I’d seen a few months earlier about the medallion Luke wore for a long time – the one Nicola allegedly gave him. The TT creator believed that the necklace depicted none other than Saint George and the Dragon! Now, I must add that this has never been confirmed but the TT creator did make a fairly convincing argument for it. This is also the necklace Luke was allegedly wearing in the “Polin” picture that was released simultaneously by Nicola and Luke on October 21, 2024 (based on the chain of the necklace he was wearing).

Delulu?

Yeah, maybe.

But, we also can’t make this shit up.

Edit (11/14/2024): Today, Luke's People Magazine photoshoot came out. Guess who his photographer was? Zoe McConnell.

Again, we can't make this shit up.

[arcsin27]

NOOOOOOOOOOOO

HOW IS HE A WHOLE PERCENT BEHIND THEY WERE WITHIN HUNDREDS OF EACH OTHER FOR HOURS WHAT THE FUCK

ROUND 5:

ETHOSLAB (4) nominated from Last Life, Etho LP, Hermitcraft, Modded Minecraft, Mindcrack, Team Canada

vs

MUMBOJUMBO (5) nominated from Last Life, Hermitcraft

[goldsbitch]

remember that

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. But everyone need assurance that they are still loved sometimes. The first time Lando almost slept on a couch blurb

warning: couple fight, angst

It was bad. This time, it was really fucking bad.

After weeks of snarky comments being swallowed in, the "it's fine" line being burned into Lando's ears almost on a daily basis and growing minutes Y/N had to wait before Lando decided to respond to her texts, shit finally hit the fan.

They hadn't seen each other for two weeks now. Inevitable fight broke out right as he crossed the threshold. Postponed dates and forgotten dinners lined up. They couldn't help themselves and put it all on the table. First it was the fact she didn't smile upon seeing him, then it was a reminder that he promised to bring something from Italy and forgot. It went on and on and on. She sat at the dinning table, while he leaned over at the kitchen counter.

"Lando, sometimes it feels like I'm in a relationship with your assistant and not you! For heaven sake, this week I had to call him, once again, when I could not reach you. Do you know how embarrassing it is?" she half-screamed into her hands.

Lando took a breath so deep an average yoga teacher would be jealous. "How am I suppose to be expected to pick up on a race day. You know that I get super busy and distracted."

"Funny how you never were when we started dating," she murmured bitterly.

He had to turn away, couldn't watch his love giving up on him just because they were not in the honeymoon stage anymore. "Yes, but now I'm winning races! Closer to my dream that I've ever been. It's different now."

"I'm glad I met you back then, because obviously you'd not date me if we met now," she couldn't stop those words that rotted in her coming out.

A beat. Maybe it was time to actually break the rule for once and go to sleep angry, because it was getting out of hand. "You know what, that's probably true and it breaks my heart that once I start doing well, you're suddenly not the supporting girlfriend anymore."

A crushing blow. "Tell me how am I suppose to support you if you don't even answer my phone! We used to talk for hours!

"Maybe understand that I can't!"

"I do! But you can't assume that I'll let you push me away completely!"

Lando thew his hands up in desperation. How could she not see it? "I'm coming here to you whenever I have a slightest chance! And I come what? You constantly dragging me through the mud."

"Oh interesting you mention that. How sad that your assistant had to remind you of my sensitive skin before you having him book me an "apology mud massage" when you cancelled on me few weeks ago," se shot, knowing it would hit the target.

"How do you even know that!" he said, unable to comprehend that he did not even control his paid assistant, not mention his own life anyway.

"Well, I talk a lot to you assistant! And he slips up!" It was a weird friendship between people who both wished they could get a little more info out of Lando.

"That's it. I can't deal with this now," he said, with the intention to sleep on the couch for the first time in their relationship. He didn't even know why he chose that action, walking towards their bedroom and dramatically bringing a pillow and a blanket over to the sofa, but if this is what couples did when the fought, there must have been a reason for it.

It absolutely infuriated her. Sparked up something she hoped she'd never feel. "Oh, sleep tight." she spitted with bitter undertone.

"I will!"

//

They walked around each other in silence, him getting ready to sleep on the couch and her cutting her skincare short this time and spending more time debating whether to close the bedroom door as they usually would or leave it open. Just in case.

He could hear her shifting back and forth. It angered him a little bit, since he was the one playing a cruel joke on his already tired muscles.

Thousand things she wanted to say and only one came to her mind in a form of an actual sentence. There goes nothing. "Do you still feel good about this?"

"What?" he whispered, not expecting her to speak to him again before the next day.

"Nevermind, forget I asked."

"About what!" He hated when she did this. If you didn't catch up at the first moment, she did not give you a second chance.

"Do you still feel good about us, being together?" She cursed herself for asking this. Dangerous questions brought up explosive answers. She wished for a reassurance and a rejection. She snuggled deeper into her blanket and turned around to face the door. As if wishing for him to stand there and coming back to her.

Lando hated her question. In fact, it made him furious again. But it was a peace offering, he had already learned that before. "Even here, lying on the bloody couch, because we're fighting...It's the place I wanna be at."

Anxiety kicked in Y/N. "What, you mean like away from me?"

He laughed lightly. She was always thinking the worst. "No, silly. The exact opposite...We could both be at thousand different places at the moment. But we're not. And for me at least, it's because like---I want to be with you. I hate that we'd drifted apart lately. I'd love to be in bed with you, laughing without a care in the world, like we usually do. But, we can't do that now. And yet, I'd rather be left on the couch if I know you're next door than all alone in my bed." His words hit like small drops of rain after a long draught.

She whispered, choosing her words carefully. "You're my twin flame. You make my soul light up in fire, make me feel like I'm the sun. Do you know what my biggest fear is?"

Lando also tuned into sweeter tone, one that was more familiar from days filled with sunshine. "What, my love?"

"That we're gonna burn out. You and me, ending up like an epic love story. The good ones work because they end in tragedy."

"You're always so poetic," he smiled, proud to think he was her love story.

"There is no other way to describe how you'd changed my life. Flipped it upside down the moment you walked into the same room."

Lando chucked. "Yeah, remember that?"

"How could I not."

"You were not having a good day."

Finally, she spoke loudly again. "So, what? Everything was going to shit and the event we were doing had to be perfect before the 'important people' arrived".

"Such an ego boost to know I was your priority before you even met me," he uttered, happy to push her buttons.

"Oh, and you were so cocky! Just laughing around, like we were some sort of comedy sketch."

"Well, I'm sorry, have you heard yourself when you're upset? The way how your voice goes up seven octaves higher?" he laughed, his breath feeling lighter now.

"Coming from you, that's rich! You were giggling in a tone so high the elderly couldn't hear you!"

"I'm so happy I managed to bag the grumpiest person in the building. And bare in mind there must have been around 500 people there."

"980 if you could in staff as well."

He let out a heavy sigh. "You with your pristine memory."

She paused before responding. "Yes. Wish I didn't have that sometimes."

"Wish I had at least a pinch of that."

Silence fell in both rooms. Heavy breath and wondering eyes. The lack of their touch suddenly being more obvious than before. Playing a contest who will reach out first.

"Lando?"

"Yes, my love?"

"Can you back here, please?" she said, somewhat nervously. Lando took a pause. There was nothing he wished for more. It hurt to fight. But he figured a relationship needed that sometimes. As the poets say, you loose a woman when you forget to cherish her. He liked to think this went both ways. And they both started slacking a bit. He could only affect his own behavior, with the hope that she'd also come to the same understanding.

"I'd like nothing more in the world, my love."

[motorsportbarbie13]

Zip Me Up?

In which you're getting ready for a night out but you need your boyfriend's help. Or do you?

Warnings: none unless you hate tooth achingly sweet fluff Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

When you heard the front door snick close, your eyes fall straight to your phone. 6:45. Shit. You were going to be late and you weren’t even dressed yet. In your defense, you had spent a few extra hours at the salon that day with Carmen who kept talking you into more and more treatments. ‘It’s a reward for getting through your first F1 season as a WAG!’ she had joked while Lily nodded along in agreement on your other side, which lead to you adding a facial on to the end of your massage Lando had booked for you today. 

You were regretting it now because that door closing signaled that your boyfriend was home and you were still sat in front of vanity mirror in the skimpy black lingerie that was supposed to be a surprise for Lando after the FIA awards tonight. You knew he was still salty about losing the championship to Max by 20 points and the bits of lace and silk were supposed to help get his mind off things. 

While the season had ended well, with Lando picking up a total of seven wins and McLaren securing their first constructors championship on ages, the sting of losing out to Max in the end was just a bit too much for your boyfriend to handle. You had known him for years, your brother racing the same circuits as Lando as a child, so you knew how competitive he was and how badly it hurt him to come up just short. While your brother had left the sport after he turned 16, he had joined the McLaren racing team as first an engineer before being promoted to strategist. 

You had run into Lando at the McLaren Technical Center one afternoon two years back while visiting your brother, a spark that had been present when you both were younger igniting again with one single look. The rest, as they say, was history. It had been a whirlwind really, the timing of it all simply perfect. 

“Babe, you almost ready? The car is going to be here in fifteen.” Lando calls from what sounds like the kitchen. He had just popped out to get bottle of whiskey to put in his flask, insisting that being half way drunk was the only way he was going to survive the awards dinner. 

In the kitchen, Lando sets the bottle of whiskey down before opening the silver flask you had gotten him for his birthday in November. Engraved on the side was his monogram and a tiny little F1 car under it. 

“Almost ready! Be out in five!” You shout back and Lando can’t help but chuckle. Five minutes in your time was actually closer to 15 so he knew he had time for a drink. 

Lando busies himself in the kitchen while he waits, knowing he’s going to tease you about taking so long to get ready while not meaning a word of his banter. You scurry about the bedroom, for once glad he hasn’t come looking for you so you can get ready quickly without being distracted. It was Lando’s constant state: Distraction. His curls distracted you. His smile distracted you. The way he said your name distracted you. Everything about your boyfriend caused you to be utterly distracted and while you wouldn’t have it any other way, sometimes a girl just needs 10 minutes alone to focus and get her makeup on. 

Minutes pass and the house is quiet, save for the clink of some ice in a glass as Lando enjoys a quick drink before you leave for the night. 

“Lan?” You call and God does that do something to him. The nickname you have for him is his favorite word. Not because he likes being called Lan, although he doesn’t mind. No, he loved it because of the way his name fell off your lips like sweet slow drips of honey, sugary coated and thick. 

He makes his way down the hall, knowing exactly where to find you: your dressing room. It had been your only demand when you moved in with him 3 months ago. If he got a gaming room, you deserved a dressing room. And Lando, not being one to ever say no to you, had immediately had his workout room converted to the dressing room of your dreams. 

He stops once he reaches the doorway, pausing to lean against the frame to take you in. Your hair was done in loose curls, the shiny locks tumbling down over your shoulders made him forget his last name. Your black dress, shimmering under the dim lights you only used after your makeup was finished, was a long column of silk that made Lando’s throat go dry. 

When you see him standing there, practically eating you alive with the feral look on his face, a slow grin spreads across your face. “Hi baby.” You coo before gathering your hair up in one hand while spinning around. “Can you zip my dress up for me?”

Truth be told, you could have probably done it yourself but you also wanted to give Lando a sneak at what was under your dress right when he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Teasing him with little glimpses of skin was one of your favorite past times. Lando knew that you could have done it yourself too, but he appreciated being needed and would never pass up the opportunity to run his fingers up your bare skin.

“Of course.” He says, crossing the room in a few strides to come stand behind you. Your perfume, a sweet and spicy dream of a fragrance, settled across his skin where it would linger all night, a constant reminder that you were his now. When you had waltzed into the MTC visiting your brother two years ago, he hadn’t recognized you at first. The moment he heard your voice though? He had known he was a goner. 

His fingers deftly maneuver the zipper up towards the top of the gown, the pads of his fingers leaving a smattering of goosebumps in their wake. When his job is done and your dress is secure, Lando dips his head to drop an open mouthed kiss in the crook of your neck, a place you can often find him kissing. When he starts to drag his tongue from his favorite spot up the column of your neck, you can’t help the sigh that falls from your lips on a whisper. Here it was, the distraction. 

“You look exquisite tonight.” He murmurs when his mouth reaches your ear, breath dusting along the shell of your ear. 

“Thank you.” Your voice is embarrassingly breathy but Lando’s fingers digging into your hips says he’s not embarrassed one bit. He didn’t say a word about the lace that was for him, but you know he saw it. “Sorry I’m running behind. Carmen, Lily, and I took longer at the salon today than I anticipated.” 

Lando spins you around, shaking his head when your gaze meets his. “It’s fine, we’re not really all that late. I’m glad you’re getting along with the other girls.” 

You nodded, the corner of your mouth ticking up at the thought of your friends, also girlfriends of F1 drivers, who had really taken you under your wing this season. Being in the public eye like the WAGs tended to be was not for the faint of heart and there had been several times this season where only the girls were able to understand your struggle to adjust to life with Lando. 

The two of you stand there for a moment, taking in the sight of each other. You were able to travel to most of the races so you didn’t often go too long without seeing Lando, but there was something settling about it now being winter break, all work suspended for the time being while everyone decompressed after a hard season. You had made it through, relationship stronger than ever, and the silent conversation that happens while you two reflect on how everything has changed so quickly has your heart fluttering in your chest. 

Lando’s the first to break the spell, forced to drop his attention to his phone that was buzzing quietly. “That’s the car.” He says, sounding almost sad that the two of you will have to leave the comfort of your private cocoon tonight and put on your public faces for the evening. 

Moments later, Lando is helping you into your jacket before twining his fingers with your own. More kisses are dropped on your cheeks and neck as you both scuttle towards the door, the hired car likely double parked in front of your building. You knew Lando would have rather stayed home tonight, not wanting to have to share you or your attention with anyone but you also knew tonight would serve as a good closing chapter on your first year together and for that, you were forever grateful. 

[falling-endlessly]

Boomerang (part 3)

Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader

Summary: Your infuriating ex is planning something, and it's putting everyone on edge. But if he wants at the hotel, he'll have to go through you (and Alastor) first.

<— Part 2 Chapter Index Part 4 —>

—6 HOURS AGO—

"What," Valentino growled, claws creating cracks in the table from how hard he was gripping it. "The fuck did you just say?"

Velvette was no better. Her lip was pulled into a furious snarl, and for once her phone was nowhere to be seen. "Vox, are you out of your fucking mind?"

"Relax," Vox reclined in his chair, raising a brow at his murderous business partners. Velvette's eye twitched and the table creaked in protest under Valentino's fury. "I'm not actually going for redemption, damn, calm your tits people."

"What happened to keeping up an image for the brand?" Velvette banged a fist against her armrest, gritting her teeth. "The Morningstar bitch was literally humiliated on live television, and now you're going to personally advertise for her?!"

"The next extermination is coming sooner than ever, and people are getting desperate. This little publicity stunt can work in our favor," Vox crossed his claws under his chin, megawatt smile growing. "What's a little pity pitch going to hurt? Think about it, I can gather intel, fuck up Alastor's little project, and show Y/n where her allegiances should lie. Win-win-win," he chuckled ominously.

"Cut the shit, Vox," Valentino scoffed, leaning forward to sneer in his face. "It's obvious you're only going this far for that bitch. Can't keep a leash on your toys, hm?"

Vox grit his teeth, digging his claws into his thighs under the table. He knew this wasn't going to go over well, but to be talked down to by someone who was benefiting from him? "So what if I am?" He hid his rage with a large, mocking grin. "And by the way, where's Angel Dust? Haven't seen him around in a while."

Val's face twisted with rage. "You fucking—"

"Enough!" Velvette snapped, glaring at both of them. "I don't have time for this stupid shit. Get on with it or this meeting is over."

Vox's unhinged smile slowly relaxed into his charming PR one. "Of course, my apologies Velvette, Val. I can see why you're not...convinced yet. Let me fix that."

The projector on the wall suddenly sparked to life, displaying three pie charts and a legend with many colorful categories. He gestured to them from left to right. "This is a distribution of our profits from ten years ago, five years ago, and last year."

"We have eyes," Velvette droned boredly.

Vox's antennae sparked in irritation, but he continued regardless. "Y/n's helped develop countless programs and softwares, and with her expertise our earnings jumped thirty seven percent, especially during the collaboration between Voxtek and DeepSpace VR. Now, what happens now that she's taken her business elsewhere? Hell knows she has the computing power to run it without our servers—"

"So, we're supposed to just bend over backwards for a few bucks?" Valentino snarled, crossing his arms.

Vox's screen glitched as he struggled to keep his composure. Thirty seven percent was not just a few bucks. But he knew antagonizing Val right now was more trouble than it was worth. "Val," he chuckled, sauntering forward to rest a hand on the backrest of Valentino's chair, leaning into his space. "Since when have you said no to money?" His eye widened, rings spinning.

"Since it walked out on two legs and ignored us," Valentino snorted.

"Val, I need you to see the bigger picture!" He grasped both of Valentino's shoulders, moving behind him so he could speak enticingly into his ear. "This is an opportunity to keep our brand at the top, and get dirt on that radio bitch. The future is what matters, and we are going to be the ones pioneering it."

The projector flickered to one of the surveillance cameras pointed at an exterior angle of the hotel. Then, the image suddenly rippled to show an artificial video of the same property, but instead of the tacky hotel, there stood a modern building adorned with a bright, neon V logo.

Valentino's smile grew at his last sentence, and he turned in his seat, leaning his forehead to rest against Vox's screen. "I like your vision, Cariño," he purred, grinning wickedly to show off his golden tooth. "But, if your little money-making cocksleeve doesn't come back, well, don't say I didn't tell you so~" he said in a sing-song voice, long tongue coming up to lick languidly along the side of Vox's monitor.

Vox's grin froze on his face, screen glitching.

Valentino chuckled, pushing out of his seat before strutting away. "Oh, and Vox baby," he threw a saucy wink over his shoulder. "Come find me when you get lonely, yeah?"

The double doors slammed shut behind him, bathing the room in silence. Which Velvette quickly broke, of course.

"What the fuck, Vox?" She scrubbed a hand down her face. "All this for a profit we can afford to lose? Really?"

"Velvette," his smile twitched up to full, blinding attention again. "Have I ever let you down before? Everything is under control, trust me!"

"Uh huh," Velvette scowled, unconvinced. "You know, Alastor and Y/n are the only people you've ever really lost it for, and you're going to a place where there's both of them."

"What, you don't think I can handle myself?" His smile strained.

Velvette shook her head, standing up from her chair and approaching him. "You know, that PR shit might work on everyone else, but I can see through your bullshit, Vox," she gave him a hard stare. "Just don't fuck everything up, got it? Or I'll make you wish you didn't."

His fists clenched as she walked past him, smile dropping into a scowl as soon as she was out of view.

****

—PRESENT—

"Whatever you do, make sure he's at least ten floors away from me," you muttered to Vaggie, watching as Charlie gave the bane of your existence an awkward tour of the hotel.

The atmosphere was so tense and suffocating, it was starting to make you incredibly antsy. The others were no better. Angel was drumming his fingers anxiously on the bar counter, Niffty was curiously regarding the new "resident" and Husk was already chugging his second bottle of hard liquor. Holy hell, and you couldn't even forget about Alastor if you tried, the radio demon releasing a constant stream of static and looking about ready to sacrifice someone—preferably Vox—in an incredibly painful and sadistic ritual.

"I can't believe she's letting him stay," Angel hissed under his breath, rubbing his temples in exasperation. "Actually no, what am I saying? This is Charlie, of course she'd let him stay. God damnit."

A tap on your shoulder made you turn around, only to find your favorite stiff drink on the counter behind you. You nodded gratefully at Husk, taking the glass and throwing it back like water.

"At least the hotel's in one piece!" Niffty chirped, her one eye back to tracking any stray insects. "Less mess to clean up." Her knife gleamed as she stabbed a cockroach clean in half with a deranged giggle.

"This isn't going to end well," Vaggie scowled darkly. "He's going to try something, I fucking know it."

"Yeah, no shit," Angel groaned, Husk grunting in agreement.

"Or," Pentious chimed in, hair flaring thoughtfully. "He truly does want to redeem himself?"

There was a silence as everyone turned to look at him incredulously, before a unanimous, resounding "no," rang out.

****

"Anddd here's your room key," Charlie presented it to him with a flourish, beaming brightly. "We hope you enjoy your stay! Breakfast, lunch and dinner are served downstairs in the dinning room, or you can go out and get your own food! We'll get your survey ready for you tomorrow so that you can start building your schedule."

"Schedule?" He quirked a brow, taking the room key from her outstretched hand. "For what, exactly?"

"Oh! Um," Charlie laughed, rubbing the back of her neck. "We actually host group therapy activities and trust exercises with the other staff and residents! You'll fill out a short survey so that we can personalize—"

"O-kay, let me stop you there, sweetheart," he chuckled, grin widening condescendingly. "I think it's great what you're doing, really, I do. But I've already got a schedule, and a billion dollar company to run. I'm quite the busy man, you know?"

Charlie furrowed her brow. "But—"

"Seriously, my sales would fall and what would my clients say? Hm?" A crowd booing track played in the background as Vox shook his head like she was just some uneducated child. "So thanks, but no thanks." He shot her a wink, before the door slammed in her face.

Charlie blinked in shock, taking a few seconds to process that she'd been dismissed in her own hotel. Her shoulders slumped as she trudged away.

But that only lasted for a few steps, before she perked right back up. What was she thinking? Giving up so quickly on one of her clients?

Charlie grinned, smacking a fist into her palm. She'd just have to try harder.

Unbeknownst to her, a figure had been watching the entire exchange from the shadows. Your jaw clenched, claws digging into the drywall.

"Unbelievable," you shook your head in disdain.

****

As soon as the door shut, Vox deflated like a balloon.

"Fuckkk," he hissed under his breath, sliding down the door tiredly. "The hell am I doing?"

He allowed himself only a few minutes to wallow in self-pity, before he sighed, pushing off the floor and getting to work. In less than twenty minutes, he had the whole room wired to his needs, electronic Voxtek devices littering the previously empty spaces. Now he had a way to travel without leaving his room.

He was just about to dematerialize into one of his laptops when a familiar, chilling presence made him freeze.

"Why, you only just got here! Don't tell me you're leaving already," Alastor chuckled, tilting his head in mock concern.

The radio demon was leaning an elbow against his dresser, just casually invading his privacy. God, just his smug face made Vox want to kill him already.

"What's it to you, old timer?" Vox sneered, electricity sparking from his claws in agitation. "Unlike you, some of us actually have responsibilities. So if you don't mind—"

"Oh my, breaking your word to Y/n already!" Alastor shook his head with a grin, sound effects of a heckling crowd emanating from his microphone cane. "How very...disappointing. Truly, I'd expect better from you!"

Vox's eye widened, the swirling rings on full display as his teeth grinded in rage. "Y-y-y-you keep her fucking name out of your filthy, cannibalistic mouth! You hear me?" He glitched furiously, electricity sparking in glowing webs from his monitor.

"Aha! Someone's a little on edge," Alastor laughed in tandem with an artificial, mocking laugh track. "Really, that was too easy! You're losing your touch."

"Get the fuck out of my room!" Vox snapped.

"Gladly," the radio demon grinned menacingly, the corners of his mouth stretching to unnatural proportions. "But first, I came to deliver a little message."

Vox gritted his teeth, curling his fists by his sides. His electricity buzzed under his skin, ready to electrocute the fuck out of this crazy fucker if he needed to.

"If you and your merry band of idiots pull even the smallest stunt to sabotage the hotel," Alastor approached him, antlers growing as his eyes turned to radio dials. "I think you'll find out that absence did not make my heart grow fonder."

"What, don't tell me you actually care about this place," Vox grinned, baring his teeth. "The whole redemption thing doesn't really seem to be up your alley, no offense."

"Oh, of course not! Haha! Don't be ridiculous," Alastor chuckled like he'd said something hilarious, but it was overlayed with bursts of radio static. "But I'm afraid I've invested too much in this source of entertainment for you to ruin it with your cheap, unoriginal touch."

The message was clear: don't touch my things.

Vox curled his lip, unwilling to back down no matter how utterly disturbing Alastor's demon form was up close. It gave him chilling flashbacks of their last explosive disagreement. "Then stay away from Y/n," he spat.

Alastor's grin widened, eyes glowing an eerie green as he held out his hand. "Is that a deal?"

Vox grimaced, looking at Alastor's creepy, voodoo doll appearance. "Hell no, you creepy fucker."

Then, like whiplash, Alastor's demon form receded and the air became breathable again. "Well, glad we cleared that up, then!" He laughed exuberantly, twirling his cane. "Nice catching up, chum!"

The demon grinned as he disappeared into shadowy wisps of smoke, melding with the darkness against the walls.

Vox's jaw clenched, electric anger vibrating through him and rattling his teeth. "Fuck!" He kicked over the first thing he saw, which happened to be a wooden workbench. It took a few deep breaths for him to finally calm down and collect his thoughts.

When he was no longer at risk of causing a city-wide outage again (that had been fucking embarrassing), he made his way back to his laptop like he was originally planning to do, only to pause in shock when he saw the brand new device short circuiting, screen full of pixelated static.

An explosive rage convulsed in his chest, the lights in the hotel flickering ominously.

"You red bambi ass fucker!"

****

<—Part 2 Chapter Index Part 4 —>

Taglist: @pooplyface1423 @spookysisters @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @neito327 @hxzbinwrites @coleisyn @bababahannah @yellowsubiesdance @dirk-strides @justaspectatorforfandomarts @harmoira @sunnyslug @gum-iie @lady-valtieri @mit-suri @whatelsecouldgowrong @sillysimplysilky @eternalera @aoiyx @hazellight11 @hopefully-not @tsuvvy @imcryinginemo @dinorawrss @rekoloid @ayesha-eroticax3 @sle3pyh3ad2 @l0verboyxoxo1111

[salmonskinrolltf]

Soulmates 2

[Here's a sequel of sorts to my previous story Soulmates (you don't need to have read it to understand this story). With thanks to @guytransformedforever, @beardobession, @tf-vigilante, @maletransformationlover, @clevertreephilosopher, @scorpionofredsand, and @maletffanatic for providing the photos used as inspiration.]

Hello, my name is Tyler. This is me:

And this is my roommate, Dylan:

Now look, I don’t have a problem with gay people. My cousin is a lesbian. And Dylan is a great roommate. Stays out of my way when we’re not gymming together, but is always down to hang when I need someone to talk to. I just wish he would be less in my face with all his gay shit. Rainbow flags everywhere, blasting Ariana Grande at all hours, constantly bringing new Grindr hookups back to the apartment but giving me side-eye when I ogle women. It’s just… too much for me.

Here’s the thing. I might actually be able to change that. I have this friend Evan, who I’ve wingmanned for on a few occasions over the past year. One night, when we were getting drunk together, he shared his secret with me. He has a magic gift. He clasped my hand and said “tomorrow, you will wake up and have this magic too.” And sure enough, the next day I could feel a tingle coursing through my veins, and I automatically had the knowledge of how to channel it.

Now I have the ability to change somebody’s future. I can’t fiddle with anything that’s innate or has already happened to them. Like, I can’t just make Dylan straight. But I can shape his future decisions or actions, and my magic will make alterations to speed the process along. Like if I made him decide to work out more, he would basically become a muscle beast within the week. Not that I’d do that. I still gotta be the alpha here. I just want to make him a little more… palatable. Someone cool to kick back with all the time, even if he sucks dick. Let’s see... I think I know what will work.

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL BECOME OBSESSED WITH SPORTS

———————————

Hello, my name is Dylan:

Sports are my LIFE. I never cared about them much growing up, but about a month ago I felt the urge to join my local queer volleyball team and never looked back. It became my everything. It’s been great exercise, but on top of playing volleyball and getting totally jacked off of it, I’ve loved the sense of camaraderie. I love my team. So much so that I even pierced my nipples on a dare when we lost the semifinals. My teammate River also recommended I stop dyeing my hair, and I think the look is really working for me. For some reason, even though it’s only been a month, my hair has grown out significantly since then. Was the red dye stunting its growth or something? Anyway. I also feel like my roommate Tyler and I have really bonded. We’ve been watching baseball games together and I think he appreciates how into it I am. He says he’s excited to bro out while watching football together in the fall.

I love Tyler, but here’s the thing. Maybe I love him too much. I’ve always had this huge crush on him, and no matter how many random Grindr hookups I try to distract myself with, I just can’t stop hoping that one day he’ll give up women for good and decide he loves me. Especially now that we’re spending all this time together, bumping chests when our team wins and shit.

I know us getting together is never going to happen, but I have this… temptation. I was born with a gift. Or maybe I wasn’t. Something my twink friend Paul told me made me think maybe he had something to do with it. Anyway, I have the ability to reshape someone’s past. I change just one thing about their past, and everything about their present just ripples forward to reflect that change. It’s a delicate art. Changing something big can have huge effects that are totally unpredictable. It’s a major temptation to make Tyler gay, but who knows how he’d turn out. Plus, I think that’s just too invasive.

But… Maybe I could change something small about him. Something that would make him less my type, and allow me to move on and focus on finding a boyfriend who would actually be into me. I’m into nice guys. I really love how kind and caring he is. And come on, he’s a FIREFIGHTER. So maybe I can try…

TYLER GREW UP SELFISH AND SPOILED

———————————

What’s up, I’m Tyler.

You dig the jacket? Yeah, I’m still a firefighter, I’m just off duty. But babes dig whatever look I rock, you know what I mean? I get what I want, and what I want is a lot of one night stands. I know how to get ‘em, too. I’m so glad I made the decision to grow this beard out a year ago, it’s opened so many doors for me. And opened a lot of legs.

I’m getting what I want from Dylan, too. Finally, I have a roommate who’s willing to grab brews and watch the game with me. But I think I fucked up when I changed him. Queer volleyball isn’t exactly “sports,” at least not in my book. I thought he’d come out like a linebacker or something! I mean, nipple rings were never part of the plan. The gay guys seem to really go for them, too, so he’s got an even steadier stream of Grindr hookups coming in and out of the place.

On top of that, I’m a little sick of his shit. He’s always giving me lip about stupid stuff like leaving my dishes in the sink or dropping my unwashed uniform on the bathroom floor. He says it’s unsanitary. Like his parade of twinks aren’t dying to sniff that shit anyway. He just doesn’t get it. I think his volleyball teammates are a bad influence too. They’re all so obsessed with aesthetic and anti-hetero rhetoric. I still can’t make him straight, but I can definitely make him less… annoying.

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL START HANGING OUT WITH MORE STRAIGHT PEOPLE WHO WILL HELP HIM STOP WORRYING ABOUT STUPID SHIT AND BE LESS PRISSY, WELL-GROOMED, AND UPTIGHT

———————————

Yo, I’m Dylan.

Yeah, I cut my hair shorter than the last time you saw me. The upkeep was just getting to be too much, y’know? A couple weeks ago, about the time I dumped that lame-ass volleyball team I was on, I just got bored with shaving every day, too. I invested in a trimmer and now I rock the stubble look, and it’s working for me. I’ve gained a bit of weight since then, and it’s all for the better because I joined my local football league. Having a few extra beers with my new buds afterward just adds to my potential as a linebacker, anyway.

I thought hanging out with more straight people would make me get used to their vibe and kinda inoculate me against Tyler, but I’m still totally obsessed with him. He’s more of a bad boy now, but I’m finding that less unappealing than I used to. Plus, he’s still parading around in his uniform all the time. I can’t help it! I’ve jerked off more times that I can count to his Mr. June photos in the local firefighter calendar.

Whenever I see his mom, she’s constantly going on about how, out of all his Tonka toys growing up, the fire truck was always his favorite. She thinks that’s why he grew up to be a firefighter. Maybe I can change that core memory into something a little more… disreputable. That would definitely make him not my type anymore. I hope.

TYLER’S FAVORITE TOY GROWING UP WAS A TONKA MOTORCYCLE

———————————

Fuckin’ A, man, I’m Tyler.

God, I love my hog. She’s a beaut, ain’t she? My parents wanted me to grow up to be a doctor or a lawyer or a firefighter or some shit, but all I ever wanted to do was ride my hog. Chicks want to ride my hog too, and I let them. As long as they don’t go near my bike! Hahaha, get it? Fuck, I love life. Let me take another drag on this stogie real quick.

Where was I? Oh yeah, my roommate, Dylan. I wish I didn’t have to room with anyone, but my boss at the garage keeps refusing to promote me. I should knock him around one of these days, see if that changes his mind. Anyway, sure, Dylan isn’t so much of a priss anymore. He doesn’t give me shit if I leave my grease-stained clothes on the couch or light up when we’re watching a football game.

But I wanted him to be straight-acting, you know? I tried to train him up as my wingman but he wore a super gay shirt with all these see-through holes to the party, and all the chicks kept their eyes on him the whole time! Fucker. Why can’t he be more like his brother? I’ve seen pictures. That dude is a full on redneck slob, got a Confederate tattoo and everything. I know they had the same backwater-ass trailer trash upbringing, why can’t he be rougher around the edges? You know what… maybe he can!

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL REALIZE HE WANTS TO EMBRACE HIS WHITE TRASH UPBRINGING

———————————

Hey y’all, I’m Dylan.

Hoo-ee, life has been good lately. I dunno why I resisted my good ol’ boy roots for so long. This goatee really makes me look rugged, dunnit? Also the chest hair. So grabbable. I decided to stop shaving my body, and poof! There it went. A full rug, within like two days I reckon. Like a sign from God. This is how I was always meant to be.

I know I was trying to push away my crush on Tyler by making him not my type, but what’s the fuckin’ point? I need someone who can handle me, and this hot as fuck biker dude I’ve created might be the only one who can handle me at this point. I ride ‘em rough and bareback, just like the horses back home, and weak city dudes just can’t handle it.

Will he be the same if he’s not straight? Maybe not. But as long as he can take my eight inches, I’ll keep him around. I vaguely remember having some sort of compunction about changing him so drastically, but I’m too horny to remember what it was.

Fuck it.

TYLER WAS BORN GAY

———————————

Uh… hi. I’m Tyler. Who are you again?

Sorry, I’m pretty forgetful. Daddy Dylan says I don’t gotta remember shit though, as long as I let him ride me as rough and as long as he likes. He’ll do all the rest for me. He tells me where to go, what to do, who to do. There are so many nice, hot guys who are willing to pay our rent if I turn a few tricks. I love it.

I’ve been like this as long as I can remember. My mom and dad kicked me out when I was 18, in my senior year of high school. I was caught sucking my English teacher’s dick behind the locker rooms. I never went to college after that, but it’s not like I was getting good grades anyway. Sucking Mr. Brentmon’s cock wasn’t for my health, you know. He had a nice juicy one, too. I still dream about it sometimes.

What was I saying? Oh yeah, I took up with this biker gang for a while after getting kicked out. I’ve always had a thing for bikers. But once they got through using my ass, they got bored. It was hard for a while, but now things are oh, so easy. I get all the dick I could ever want. I have a roof over my head, and no job to worry about. All I do is go to the gym and eat and fuck and I never have to think. Dylan said he might take me out muddin’ sometime too. I don’t know what that is, but anything Dylan does is fun. Fuck, I love the way his goatee tickles my skin when he kisses me, so rough, so manly. Way manlier than I’ve ever been. It’s so fucking hot. I love how he takes care of me.

I really have no complaints. I wouldn’t change anything about my life, even if I could remember how…

[on-twd-writing]

there is no but for me

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warning: mention of infertility. English is not my first language.

Readers pronuns: She/Her

Description: Abraham asks Daryl a question (S6E11)

Italics is for the flashback.

There is no but for me

The last few weeks have been draining, and the fear of the so-called Saviors became more real day by day.

 They had to be faster, they had to fight them and win. There wasn’t even another option, no plan B. In this world, a plan B meant death most of the time. Yet there was a small spark of hope. Maggie was pregnant, and she and Glenn were as happy as ever. There was so much death and fear in the world, that Maggie's pregnancy almost sounded like a miracle. And this kind of miracle also reached a certain redhead in the group.

  Abraham started to think about the possibilities. A family. A place to settle down. His own daughter or son. With Sasha, he could imagine this, yet he hesitated. The whole idea had been kinda new to him. Even though Abraham was sure about a lot of things, he wasn’t sure about this plan for his life. When you have a child, you have to take responsibility, you have to protect the child, care for it and while Abraham was sure he would be capable of doing both things, he wasn’t sure if the world would let him do this.

 And that was why he was asking the others for their opinion. He needed to hear their thoughts; he needed some reassurance that starting a family in this world was okay. That he wouldn’t make a mistake with this one.

  The next one on his list was no other than Daryl Dixon.

 Abraham knew that Daryl and Y/N were a thing, despite never making it official. But they didn’t have to, Abraham has watched them long enough to see it. How Y/N would always stay up with Daryl to stay on watch, while they were still on the road and before they arrived in Alexandria. Y/N was somehow able to understand the grunts and huffs of the archer, she was the one who was able to calm him down whenever things escalated. He wouldn’t flinch at her touches, and sometimes they would sit in complete silence for hours, since they didn’t need words anymore to communicate.

 So, for Abraham, it was clear, that if someone would settle down as well, it would be these two. Why not? Daryl and Y/N were also good with kids, from what the redhead could tell.

 "You ever think about it? Settlin’ down?"

 Daryl raised his head, looking at Abraham. What was going on with the redhead?

 "You know… marriage, kids, the whole package. Come on, everyone knows about you and Y/N" Abraham chuckled a bit.

 "So, you have never thought about it?"

 "Ya think shit’s settled?"

 Daryl let out a gruff, slowly walking away, over to you. What did Abraham expect from Daryl? A conversation about marriage? Children? Not only was Daryl a very private person, but there was another reason behind it.

 Of course, you have talked about it. Actually, not that long ago…

  It was one of the first nights in Alexandria, and he couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to. This place wasn’t as safe as it seemed, or as people wanted to believe it. He couldn’t let his guard down, he had to protect his family….Judith, Carl… you. His partner. He never liked the term girlfriend. It sounded like you were in high school.

 When he heard your steps on the porch, he didn’t look up until you sat down next to him on the stairs. You handed him a cup of coffee – black coffee, no milk or sugar, exactly how he liked it. Daryl looked at you, a slight nod – thank you.

 You two sat in silence for a long time. The dark, innocent city lay in front of you, and for a moment, the world didn’t seem so cruel. Maybe peace was an option. Maybe coming home was finally an option.

 "What’s on your mind?"

 Your quite voice broke the silence and he looked at you. Yet you knew him to well that something was bugging him. He was staring into the night and you knew him, you knew him well enough.

 "Do ya think this place can be a home?"

 You let your eyes wander around, thinking about it for a moment. The clean streets, the smell of fresh flowers, running water …a soft bed…

 "I want to."

 You really wanted it but yet you couldn’t fully believe and understand it. But one part of you wanted to believe it, that maybe finally you could have a place you can call a home. This feeling was burning inside your chest, now a small flame but who knew maybe a fire in a few weeks.

 "What ‘bout a … home for us?"

 Your eyes grew bigger when you heard this question. You two never really put a name on it, you didn’t have to. You never pushed Daryl to give it a name, and he never gave you a reason that you needed a name for it.

 "Sounds…like a good future for us…"

 You smiled at him, leaned your head against his shoulder, as you closed your eyes.

 "I really like the idea."

 You could feel how Daryl smiled slightly as well. You two have never talked about the future, since you never knew if there was a future for you. Would you survive the next day? Next week? Month?

 "Ya do?"

 Daryl never thought about settling down with a woman. Before the world went down, he had been shamed by Merle for having any romantic feelings. Or being soft for someone.

 "Yes,… even this is new and it still feels weird, I want that. I want a future with you and I want… this to work out here… for us."

 "Wha’ da ya wish for?"

 Daryl wanted to give you everything. He wanted to make you happy, to feel safe and protected. He would do everything for you, just to see the beautiful smile of yours.

You snuggled closer to him, thinking about it.

 "I want to wake up next to you, in a cozy bed and none of us has to get up right away. I want to try to cook with you…"

 He let out a chuckle, knowing very well that you are a terrible cook.

 "… and then end up at Carols place, because otherwise we wouldn’t get a nice dinner. I want to listen to music with you, read a book while you work on your bike. I want to wash our clothe and-"

 "Ya wanna’ wash our clothes?" Daryl raised an eyebrow at your unusual wish "What kind of dream is that?"

 "It’s something normal. I want normal things with you, Daryl. I don’t need something fancy or adventurous, all I want is normality with you. I am sorry that this is so boring."

 "No…, ‘sounds good."

 You giggled a bit "That’s good, because I think I want this boring future with you."

 After everything you all went through boring sounded perfect.

 "What ‘bout children?"

 Daryl was afraid.  He didn’t know if he was a good dad and he didn’t want to ruin a wish you had.

 "I… don’t know…"

 He could tell in the sound of your voice that there was something else. He shifted and looked at you "What’s da matter?"

 You looked away from him into the dark night. Daryl waited for your response, not wanting to force you. He would never do this but you knew you had to tell him the truth. It wouldn’t be fair to keep this a secret.

 "I can’t."

 "Ya don’t have ta’ explain anythin’, darlin’."

 "No, I mean I can’t…can’t get pregnant… I’ve found it out years ago and that was why my boyfriend left me before the world ended."

 You were so insecure about it, you knew Daryl was different and you knew that Daryl loved you and yet, you were afraid that he would leave you for it. You weren’t afraid; you knew that Daryl would make a fantastic dad. You saw how he would handle Judith, how he fought for Carols lost daughter…

 Daryl grunted next to you; he lifted an arm to put it around your shoulder. A kiss on your temple followed.

"Don’t ya dare ta’ think ‘m gonna leave ya because of that" he murmured.

 "But-"

 "Listen, when it comes to ya, there is no but for me."

 His voice was firm, yet caring. This was enough, more than you could ask for. Daryl was a man of few words and he was able to shut down your dark thoughts right away. Daryl would stay, you knew it.

 You snuggled closer to him, enjoying the warm summer night a bit more.

[writtenbymoonflower]

Pint

It's game day and one of your customers is a player (in two ways) - Jamie Tartt x fem!reader

cw: mentions of alcohol, the exact WRONG way to speak to service workers

755 words

“Thank you, come again soon.” You said for the fiftieth time that night as another red and blue clad patron left the pub, the little bell on the door causing a pavlovian jolt to go through your body. You glanced up at the clock, grimacing when you saw you still had an hour and a half of your shift left. Thankfully things were quieting down for the night, only a few of your regular dawdlers slumping drunkenly in their chairs. You wiped your spirit-soaked hands on your apron and went back to cleaning glasses. There was some cooking show playing low on the television that no one was paying attention to. No one paid attention to the telly unless there was a game on, and the Richmond game ended hours ago. 

When the door opened again, the drunk stragglers let out half-delirious cheers.

“Welcome.” You said, without looking up. The person sat in the chair right in front of you. “What can I get for you?” 

“Pint of Guinness, please.” You still didn’t look up at the man as you poured, careful to not get beer down the side as you filled it right to the brim. You felt bad for your lack of charisma, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be peppy. The pub had been packed full of rowdy customers, as it always is on game days, but when one of the players made an apparently ‘impossible shot’ everyone decided that called for three rounds of shots per person. Your feet were aching from walking all day and you were sure you would never get the scent of spilled vanilla vodka out of your work trousers. 

Only when you set the glass down did you finally look up at the patron, and you were suddenly far more embarrassed about how uninterested you must have seemed. You weren’t a football fan, but almost everyone in Richmond would recognize that megawatt smile from a mile away. You spilled a bit as the glass hit the table. 

“Shit, sorry.” You winced, moving to grab napkins (and recompose yourself).

“You’re grand, love. I tend to have that effect on people.” He smirked. You rolled your eyes. Jamie Tartt was known for two things. One was being an amazing footballer, the second was being a shameless flirt. Despite this knowledge, your cheeks still flamed.

“Congrats on the win today.” You knew your smile was awkward, but you tried your hardest. He rewarded you with a dizzying grin.

“Ah, thanks. It was a prick move, but worth it.” He smirked. You pretended to know what he was referencing, nodding half-heartedly. You didn’t actually watch the game. He dug around in his pocket before setting a heap of coins on the bar top. “Six quid, right?” 

“It’s on me.” You waved him off. It was the least you could do for your lack of hospitality, especially after his win. 

“Love, if I got free handouts every time I got my team a win, I wouldn't be payin' for anything." He winked. You still didn't take the coins. He sighed "Take it as a tip, then.” He shoved the coins toward you. You looked at him incredulous. 

“You can’t seriously be trying to give me a six quid tip.” 

It should be criminal for someone to look that self-satisfied and that endearing at once. He narrowed his brown eyes at you, challenging. “Who says I can’t?” 

“Common sense.” You suggested, turning your back to him. If you looked at his stupidly attractive face any longer you would be sick. 

“Fair but... I did win today.” He argued. You could hear the smirk in his voice, only made more dizzying by his thick mancunian accent. “Don’t I get a prize?” You turned back around to give him a deadpan ‘are you serious’ look. 

“I hardly think paying for your own drink counts as a prize.” You decided to not bring up how the free drink would be his prize and wiped at a nonexistent spill. 

“I could buy you a drink then? Have it with me when you get off?” His eyes raked down your form shamelessly. Your head spun, but you pretended to be unaffected by his coquetry. 

“Why not.” You were sure he wouldn’t stick around that long anyway. He smiled, more genuine this time. 

“I’ll be here.” He took a sip of his drink. “If it goes my way, you'll get off twice tonight." He winked.

You almost dropped the glass you were cleaning. 

[modelbus]

eyup model!! Hru?? Hope all is well… but lets get to the important shit, THATS RIGHT! ITS ME, YOUR SELF PROCLAIMED FAVOURITE ANNON, ✨🌌🌙!!! Y’know, the one that writes SUPER detailed, SUPER long and SUPER off-topic-for-the-first-half requests!!!! (If I keep this up for long enough, you’re gonna have to add a ✨🌌🌙 Annon section to your master list. /hj)

that makes me think about when I first requested, I wonder how long its been.. I THINK my first req was Cut Chaos.. one sec lemme check………

AYE IN 4(ish) MONTHS IT’LL BE A YEAR SINCE I STARTED HARASSING YOU WITH MY THINK OF BRAINS!

been a while.. I’ll need to remember to write a DUMB request in june.

SO. REQUEST. YES. I DO THAT? I DO THAT.

okay so idk how to format this but here,

She/Her pronouns for plot. y/n is honestly, REALLY bad at pvp, she’s know amongst the SBI for being.. a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but the wolf has no teeth. She likes flowers, pastel pinks, purples, and blues, she likes cottage core dresses and corsets.. So on the surface she looks like a pretty, little, innocent streamer!… yeah, no. Sure, shes pretty as fuck, but little? She is SURPRISINGLY TALL. half the fan base is fully convinced EVERY photo shes in is photo shopped, but sure enough, shes 6’4! Innocent? Say the words ‘Arson’ ‘Crime’ or ‘Manslaughter’, and you practically summon her. (Every SMP she has been on, has in-fact seen not only her enemy’s but HER OWN, Builds being blown up and/or burnt to the ground AT LEAST, 3 times.) shes also know for her ADORABLE builds (shame half of them end in ash..), her parkour skills.. and uh.. being complete garbage at anything pvp.

Well twitter being twitter, a lot of sexist 12 year old boys, and Andrew tate fans like to be.. REALLY creepy and all ‘perfect house wife’ about her. (You get the gist no more detail needed.) While they may not know it(they ignore it/pretend its fake), she’s actually quite strong in real life, often picking up her friends in irl streams and running away with them as a bit (with consent ofc)! But in minecraft, that doesn’t really show.. so naturally being the absolute fucking queen she is, about a year ‘n a half ago, she decided she was gonna be fucking great at pvp. Naturally not telling anyone but techno (so he could teach her, duh) and avoiding all pvp for a year, lead to people joking about it more often.. this didn’t bother her, it was actually perfect, she had been getting better. Like really. Danm. Better. Practicing even without techno and on an alt, and at this point? It felt natural to be disappointed at a 25 win streak.. she went from 0 to about 30-40 average win streaks.. in a year and a half.. she was dedicated, okay? Her fans did notice her getting a little rusty at parkour but they just assumed she had been to busy to practice as much.. they were right but not about what she was busy doing.. So, she obviously invited the sbi, and a few other friends (Tubbo, Ranboo and Dream.) to play a custom pvp themed game, with the stream titled ‘I haven’t pvp-ed in a year and a half, and now I’m doing it again.’ where they were split into two rounds, (y/n and techno being in both but the rest in one) all in hardcore and spawned on opposite sides of the map, having 30 minutes to gear up, before pvp was turned on, and no going to the end, no other rules than one hour to be the last one standing, they could team, they could camp, they could use tnt minecrarts, they could go to the nether, anything. it was all game.

only two people expected her to crush almost everyone. I’m not even sure if those two people were expecting her to come second one round, and WIN the other.. but with her getting half the kills in round one and losing to techno in a final battle where she held her fucking ground like a boss ass mother fucker, and winning after techno killed Dream and she ambushed him after using a god apple..

lets just say after a couple things trending, a lot of fanart and A LOT of sapphic women going crazy, nobody dared to question her dedication to proving she was a fucking force to be reckoned with again.

(It also became a very popular running joke that she got more women than any other Minecraft CC.. you don’t gotta include that just- just make it cannon.. oops, dropped my gay onto the request lemme fetch that rq..) (yes, I wrote this y/n as my fuckin dream girl, I’m a simp okay..)

haha.. ha.. BRO AT THIS POINT I’M JUST WRITING A FIC AND TELLING YOU TO RE-WRITE IT BUT MAKE IT GOOD I- feel free to change what ever, the top half is mostly just context- even if you don’t do this request you should reply to it so its not lost to the void- I.. I’m sorry man I keep doing this to you-

OH WELL JUST PRETEND THIS IS WAY SHORTER THAN IT IS OR IGNORE IT IDC EITHER WAY HOPE THIS GIVES YA INSPO POOKIE (the pookie was ironic I swear-) - ✨🌌🌙 Annon

For our one year anniversary I’ll make a special section of my master list just for you bbg <3 also don’t judge me for this title I was STRUGGLING

Pairing: what the fuck anymore Actual pairing: Fem!Reader x Cc!Phil, Cc!Tommy, Cc!Technoblade, Cc!Dream, Cc!Tubbo, Cc!Ranboo

Flower Power

You were pretty happy with who you were. A badass woman who just so happened to be the epitome of flower power? Hell yeah.

Fairy lights twinkle in the background of your setup, a wall full of vines and LED signs providing extra ambience. That’s not to mention the special keyboard—resin flower keycaps, they were on sale okay—alongside your setup in general. Even your mic had cute animal stickers on it. Well, except for the one Tommy gave you of his face? It was weird.

Right now, though, you aren’t at your cute setup. No matter how much you loved it, you were at least aware that you couldn’t send every waking moment at it. You weren’t quite that much of a content machine.

So of course you go outside to film vlogs with Tommy! Totally reasonable break from filming content: film more content!

Jokes aside, you loved hanging out with your friends. Getting dressed up just for Tommy to inevitably ruin it was practically your good luck ritual. The sheer number of skirts, shawls, and even socks he owes you is astronomical.

Today he had promised nothing messy (for once), so you took your chance. Pale blue corset embroidered with flowers and a flowy white skirt, you were practically screaming your aesthetic to anyone who looked at you. And Ranboo had given you a dandelion for your hair, which only added to it.

”Tall fuckers to the back for the photo!” Tommy shouts, and the poor bystander he roped into taking the photo stares. “Which obviously means me—“

“Get your short ass back in front.” You order, snagging his shoulders and forcing him in front of you. From your side, Ranboo snickers.

“Welcome to the club, king.” Tubbo tells Tommy before grinning at the camera.

“What the fuck.” He grumbles. “She’s hardly any taller than me!”

“Keep lying to yourself.” You put your elbow on his head, just to add insult to injury.

“Um, I got the photo I think.” The stranger says, holding Tommy’s phone out to him. He takes it without even looking at the photos.

“Thanks.” He says after you clear your throat pointedly to prompt him.

Seeing their chance to escape, the person just nods and hurries off without a single glance back. Probably glad to be rid of your wayward group of streamers and YouTubers.

“It’s a decent photo.” Tommy begrudgingly admits.

“It’s my cue to leave, actually. I’ve got plans.” Tubbo says, checking his phone.

“Why do you get more bitches than me?” Tommy whines.

“…it’s my mother.”

“And we all know I get the most bitches.” You jump in, high-fiving Ranboo blindly. You nearly hit his face, but that’s okay. It would’ve been funny.

“Oh shut the fuck up.” Tommy elbows you, all gangly limbs and pointy bones. “We’re playing Minecraft later, right?”

“Not me.” Tubbo reminds him.

“No shit. I was talking to these two idiots.”

“Hey!”

“I’ll be on.” You lean over him, looking at his phone for the time. “You’re aware we need to leave if we want to make your stupid fucking steam time?”

He looks down, eyes widening. “Oh shit!”

Just for making you run home, you blow up his house on Minecraft. For the fourth time. It was ugly looking anyway, nothing like your adorable mushroom house, so he was practically begging for it to be exploded.

It’s his fault. Always.

-

“You really want to attack me from there?”

Your hands freeze on your keyboard mid-movement, making your character in game also freeze at Techno’s words.

“Not anymore?” You laugh nervously.

“Right answer. Try this again and I’ll pretend like I don’t see you.”

PvP training was going great, and by that you mean you’ve been killed every single time by one swing of his axe. It was no secret that you were bad at fighting. Your go-to tactic was to load up on TnT and hope for the best, which met… many criticisms.

And you were sick and tired of it. It’s time to reinstate your badass reputation and become a ruthless killer in a video game. Innocent bedwars players would never know what hit them! Hopefully, at least. Right now, you’re still working on that.

“Fuck!” You exclaim as Techno kills you yet again, the respawn screen flashing up.

“If you with to defeat me, train for another—“

“I’m trying!”

-

@ GenericUsername Anyone else notice that our resident flower girl has been avoiding PvP… poor girl is TIRED of being flamed

-> @ EatingLipSkin She deserves it for how shit she is for dying to magma blocks that one time

-

Slowly, so fucking slowly, you watch your bedwars win streak increase. Slowly, you watch your skywars win streak increase.

Somehow, against literally all odds, you’re learning how to girlboss PvP. Although when you told Techno that he seemed mildly confused, but you were definitely girlbossing PvP.

Which was exactly why you knew this stream was a good idea.

After a year and a half, you were hosting a huge stream with a bunch of your friends competing in a PvP tournament. Tommy insisted on there being a prize, so whoever wins gets the highly esteemed Tesco’s gift card you’ve had in your desk for five months. A battle of true honor, of epic consequences.

“Alright guys, so here’s my plan.” You tell your stream, mining some wood to craft basic tools. Everyone has 30 minutes to gear up, then it’s an hour till the winner is crowned. With the map having a small border, you’re counting on some cheeky kills from sneaking up on others. “I mine first, stock up on iron. Make a diamond axe if I can, but mostly go for lava buckets and backup gear.”

Your plan is put into motion quickly. With the new iron veins, it’s incredibly easy for you to get geared up within fifteen minutes. Venturing back up to the surface for food, you spot Tubbo without any armor killing sheep.

Perfect.

Sneaking to hide your name tag, you venture up a tree to get closer to him. You added a proximity mod, so you can hear him talking to his stream.

“We need lots of food, chat. All these guys— these guys don’t know the importance of food!” He’s saying. It’s a smart plan; if only you weren’t planning on killing him and taking his food.

“Hi Tubbo!” You shout, dropping down and killing him with a few swipes of your axe. “One down, just a few more to go!”

As people die left and right—most dying to you, to everyone’s surprise—you pointedly avoid Technoblade. The student will never surpass the master, after all. All your tricks came from his playbook and you really didn’t want to see how competitive he’d get for a gift card he’d never even use.

Dream was slain by Technoblade

Your eyes widen in surprise at the chat message, quickly stretching your fingers to press tab and bring up the list of players left alive. Only yours and Techno’s show.

“Oh no.” You breathe, freezing. “Oh God, chat. I have to murder Technoblade. I have to disassemble his organs and destroy his aorta.”

Suddenly, you’re paranoid as all hell. Randomly going into F5 as you kill cows, checking every angle.

“The student thinks she can challenge the master?” Techno asks, and you shriek in surprise as he digs up from below you.

“I fucking knew you’d say that! You predictable pig!”

“But you didn’t know where I was going to come from.” He points out. You know him well enough to detect the faint line of amusement in the words.

You groan, eating a steak. “Let’s dance, Technoblade.”

“Let’s die, actually.”

He comes at you with an axe, immediately disabling your shield. In retaliation, you swap to a fishing rod to lure him back in when he tried to run off.

As the two of you fight, you find yourself getting closer to your monitor, keeping your mouth shut as you concentrate. Fingers flying across the keys, you scroll to your lava bucket and attempt to burn him. By some miracle, he manages to avoid it and get a hit in on you.

“Oh my God.” You breathe at seeing how many hearts it takes. “Is that fucking enchanted?”

“Is yours not? Get good, nerd.”

You jump past him, placing a quick block to act as a barrier as you smack him with your own axe. Diamond, so it should make up for the difference in strength of his enchanted iron axe.

He loops around a tree, but you momentarily lose track of him. “Where the fuck—?”

As you notice your hearts depleting, you whirl around. Instead of doing the smart thing a retreating, you jump forward and crit him out. If he were any other player (cough cough, Tommy), he’d run. But he’s Technoblade. And all he does is crit you in return, killing you.

“Fuck.” You groan, leaning back in the chair.

<Technoblade> If you wish to defeat me train for another 100 years

Rolling your eyes at the chat message, all you can do is wait for the server to be reset with a new map and everyone living again.

You do the same tactic again, gearing up as quick as possible. It seems like other people have stolen your idea, but go about it in different ways based on the achievements. In the chat, you watch as Ranboo gets the achievement for entering the nether and then Tommy gets it right after.

“I will gift twenty subs if one of them isn’t dead within… five minutes.” You wager to your chat, laughing slightly. They’re still busy freaking out that you placed second last round, making you smile. “Guys, what’s wrong? You didn’t think I’d get kills? What am I known for if not manslaughter?”

A few minutes later—just under five minutes, might you note—Ranboo’s death message pops up. And then so does Tommy’s. Ranboo was killed by Tommy, but apparently Tommy burned to death? You can definitely picture his dumb ass walking into fire.

“Well… looks like I’m aiming for Phil.” You sigh. “I’d feel too bad to kill Tubbo again. But I’m not fucking with Dream or Techno— losing fights and all that.”

You start mining up to the surface, digging through some deep slate you had gone through. “Wait, is this wood?” You ask, scrolling to your axe to mine through the oak planks. You mine directly through a mineshaft, gasping in surprise. “Oh!”

There’s a chest in a minecart right in front of you, so you open it, hoping for some cheeky diamonds. You’ll even take wheat; food is food.

“Oh my God!” You shriek, probably bursting more than a few eardrums. “A god apple— oh my god! We’re fucking winning this one, guys! Cower at my name! But first we’re getting out of here before a spider kills me.”

You run around for a few minutes before stumbling into Dream and promptly running the other way directly into Phil’s house. Why he was building a house on a PvP server? You’ll never know.

“Oh, hi mate, what’re you doing?” He asks, hands empty of any weapons. You scroll onto your flint and steel silently. “Listen. We can talk about this. You don’t need to do this.”

“It’s too late, Philza Minecraft.” You answer, lighting some of the logs on fire. “Should’ve made it out of stone!”

Turning, you light the ground under him on fire then scroll over to your axe. He’s not expecting it, and although he gets a hit in with his empty fists, you still kill him.

“Just Techno and Dream left now.” You note. “Let’s just… hope they battle it out.”

To keep yourself occupied as you wait for the last five minutes before the borders shrink, you start setting cows on fire and collecting flowers. Poppies and dandelions fill your inventory, your little good luck charms.

“Alright guys. Someone go sneak into Techno’s chat and snitch on what’s happening for me.” You laugh, shaking your head. “Kidding, kidding. Don’t do that.”

Just as the one-minute warning pops up I no chat, Techno’s death message does. You gasp loudly, before grinning. “It’s my time to shine! I’ll avenge Techno!”

The world border starts to shrink behind you, but you’re already on the move. Knowing Dream, he’ll probably be in the center of the map. If you can catch him while he’s looting Techno’s body, you have no chance of losing.

“Stop saying good luck chat, I don’t need any good luck.” You grin, spotting Dream’s name tag. “I’ve got skill.”

Before you throw yourself at him, you eat your enchanted golden apple. If you trade blows, you’ll end up winning with the extra health. And two hearts is all you need.

“Ohhhh Dream!” You shout, catching him with a swing of your axe as you jump past him.

“AHH— what the fuck? Where did you come from?” He runs after you, making you do awkward jumping around to avoid his fishing rod.

“Stop! Stop that, I can’t— Dream!”

“Are you regenerating? Did you go to the nether?” He asks, and you can’t help but smile.

Because God apples don’t just give you extra hearts; they give you regeneration.

“I did one better.”

You hit him with your axe again, trading blows with him just like you thought you might.

“You’ve got to be low, how low are you?” He asks, hitting you again, but it’s too late. His body explodes on his death, his items flying out everywhere. You throw your chair back, jumping up and shouting.

“SUCK MY FUCKING DICK HATERS! I’M THE NEW PVP GODDESS AROUND HERE!”

-

@ WomenLover MOMMY? SORRY... MOMMY? SORRY

->@ TheRealBIcon dont be sorry we all thinking it she HOT HOT

@ S4pph1cSarah Anyone else see that fanart of her winning the PvP tournament… woo boy…. I’m… not okay…

@ S4pph1cSarah A thread of the HOTTEST fanart I’ve ever seen of our beloved streamer <3

@ SmexyWomenNearMe Me: “where is she?” “Her parkour skills are rusty how odd” “she’s streaming less” Her: “Watch this fuckos I’m badass and a killer”

->@ TwilightReference ”this is the face of a killer Bella”

@ CottagecoreBadass Can we talk about how dedicated she is? Like yeah she’s hot. So hot. But she’s also insanely badass and commited???

->@ CuteBuilder101 Best type of woman fr fr ->@ StarAnon Cottagecore + badass + chaotic force of nature = her (my dream woman)

@ StarAnon She really just drew all the women lovers outta hiding huh

@ ThisIsTheWriter Idk if I want to be her or if I want her but man. Oh man. I’m so bi.

[blooming-violets]

Shit I forgot to put this in my rb but I wanted to ask what do you think would happen to reader if Peter actually went through with it? I'd like to be a but optimistic and say she surely but slowly recovers from it all but I'm not so sure. How would Aunt May react to that? Becoming a widow then a grieving mother in the span of a few years? Sorry I don't mean to be pushy but like I said I loved the way you beautifully crafted this story from an ask

Trigger Warnings!!!!: it's all about suicide and talking about it and discussing it, it is not something everyone feels comfortable reading or conversing about so please don't continue if it is too upsetting for you, Peter Parker kills himself and I write about it, Gwen's death ptsd is explored and he sees her as a rotting corpse version of herself who talks to him before he dies, the grief of losing someone you love to suicide is also talked about, it's all depressing but if you love depressing angst shit then come on over and join in (not join in on the killing yourself part jfc I mean joining in on the talking about this story) READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION only you know what you are capable of handling when you read. I can't help you any further than explaining the warnings.

Previous posts where this is all discussed:

[first part] [second part] and I rewrite this drabble from two years ago to fit this story but you can read the original here if you feel like it (it ends with less death that this one).

One of my darker, more angsty headcanons is that Peter kills himself by throwing himself off the same clock tower Gwen died in. It takes a few years for it to get rebuilt back to it's former glory. Peter patiently waits those years until it's finally finished. Almost a quiet, stoic sort of patience. A little scary with how composed he is. Like not given any indication of his plans. He wears a beautifully composed mask until the day it happens because he is so sure in his plans and doesn't want a single person to sway him from them. He's stubborn and set in his ways and this is what he feels he needs to do. This headcanon doesn't exactly fit into the story I wrote as that version of Peter is much more unhinged in his actions, and I don't think clocktower Peter could ever let himself get into a relationship because he's too obsessed with Gwen still and knows he's going to die so he's not going to bring anyone else into that mess, but it's just a little random headcanon I always had so I thought I would share since this is suicide talking hour. Maybe I can rework it a bit to fit with this story better.

Let's say unhinged Peter (as I'm calling him now lol) does let the ghosts win. What happens to our Reader character would entirely depend on when in the relationship he went through with it. If she's too far gone and too far down the hole after Peter, then I sort of fear for her future. Unless she has someone really important in her life who would help her, I think she would just keep sinking until she ended up back on that ledge, except this time there's no Peter to catch her. And I personally don't think she has anyone that close to her, especially after mentioning that all her friends stopped texting her or asking her to hang out. They all kind of gave up on her so, when she's at her lowest, I really don't think anyone would be the wiser due to the isolation they both put themselves in.

I want to rewrite something I wrote two years ago that either wasn't that great and people didn't like or it just slipped under the radar (because it wasn't about an x reader or love or anything, it was just Peter's ptsd taking over and sometimes people don't give a shit about a fic if it isn't tagged with x reader). It fits really well in this new story to help show what could go on in Peter's head with how terribly Gwen still sticks with him and what exactly it is he's "seeing" that would push him to throwing himself off a building.

Cut to me pausing to frantically google if Peter Parker could survive a fall off a building or if his super powers make him strong enough to withstand it...

Okay maybe falling isn't the best plan of action but I really like (like isn't the right word but I'm going with it) that idea of him mimicking Gwen's death because he's so haunted by it. He would want to feel what she felt. He would want to go the same way. So for the sake of this story, he's can't withstand that fall.

“Leave me alone!” Peter shouted into the dark shadows of the clock tower. He sat huddled against the newly built glass wall that domed up over his head. The bright, white light of the moon hung in the sky above him and casted wavering shadows around him to mess with his vision. The turning of grinding gears below him haunted his memories of the night Gwen died. Eight years and she still haunted him every time he dared to fall asleep.

He couldn't take it anymore. His head was a mess. His thoughts were spinning.

He was just so tired.

He had fallen asleep here accidentally. Maybe if he went to the source of the problem, she would disappear. It was a stupid plan

It only made her stronger. This was where his ghost of her was most alive.

Maybe that's why he really showed up. He wanted to see her. He wanted to finally confront his demons. She was calling to him and he had to answer.

He had slipped a crushed up sleeping pill into his girlfriends water during dinner. He carried her bed, tucked her in, and kissed her soft and gently. She didn't need to see this. This wasn't for her. She needed to be free of him. He needed to let her go before it was too late. She wouldn't understand at first but, maybe, with time...

What had time ever done for him except make Gwen stronger?

He slipped an envelope onto the bedside table beside her. One for her. One for May. He wasn't sure if he would make it home this time. His mind could still change. He could still make it back before she woke up.

But they were.

Just in case.

He couldn't leave them with nothing.

She was here now. Ready to haunt him like usual. Ready to take over and ruin him. Night after night. Day after day. She was always there. Gwen never left. She walked beside him through it all.

Tonight, she was angry. Furious. This was where he had let her die. Of course, she would be the most powerful here.

He no longer had his girlfriend to help soften Gwen's blows. There was no one to intervene. Only him and Gwen. Stuck in a staring contest. Sizing each other up.

The sunken in face of his dead lover glared back at him from just below his edge of his of his perch, trembling from the sight under him. She was standing on top of a giant gear, watching him, judging him. A large smile grew across her pale, bluing lips. It was too wide. Too big for her face. Her teeth looked rotten and jagged inside of her mouth. A trickle of blood slowly trailed out of her nostril.

“What’s the matter, Peter?” She taunted. Her sickly voice swirled around his head like a swarm of mosquitos. “Did you miss me? Is that why you came here? To see me clearly again? Well, here I am. Look at me. Dead. Putrefied. All for you. Aren't I beautiful? This is what you've done to me.”

A loud sob shuddered through his chest and ripped out his throat. He brought up a hand to wipe away the snot flowing freely out his nose. This nightmare was too familiar. He knew this too well. He didn't feel like he was dreaming this time. He never did.

If it wasn't a dream then his mind was truly gone. Distinguishing between reality and fiction was something he no longer had control over.

This was as real to him as anything.

“Please, Gwen. Please,” he pleaded with her. “Go away. I can’t do this again. Please. You have to let me go."

She tutted her tongue in annoyance and shook her head with disbelief, “Oh, Peter. I have to let you go? Do you think I want to be here?” She became climbing up the gears and the scaffolding towards him. She looked more like himself as she climbed, enhanced and spider-like, taking the movements straight out his brain until she was perching on the ledge beside him. “Do you think this fun for me?”

Peter whimpered in response. His tears were blurring his vision but he was afraid to wipe them away. He was terrified of what might happen if he took his eyes off of her, like watching a snake in the grass, it's better if you can see it in your sights instead of letting it hide and able to strike.

Gwen walked with slow, purposeful steps towards him until she stood directly over him as he cowered backwards on all fours. Under the pale moonlight hanging above them, her skin turned yellow, painted with purpling hues and blacks, and rotting away around her cheekbones to show parts of red, bleeding muscle under the pulled back skin. Her, once vibrant, blonde hair now hung in patchy strands from her head. Most of her hair had fallen out leaving her balding and sickly. When she smiled, browning, broken teeth shone back at him, they hung lose in her jaw, rattling around when she spoke.

She was a walking, decaying corpse sent to haunt him every time he closed his eyes.

“Look at what you’ve done to me!” Her shrill voice echoed off the glass walls. She spun around to show him the back of her head. Her skull was caved in. Parts of brain matter clung to her hair and blood stained what was left of the blonde a deep red. She turned back to face him, leaning in close so she was mere inches away. He could smell the heavy scent of freshly dug dirt and wet grass clinging to her rotting finger nails like she had clawed her way straight out of the ground to find him.

She snarled, “You did this, Peter! This is your fault!”

Peter flinched and scrambled backwards to get away from her, “No! Please, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I didn't know...I didn't know...I thought I could catch you. I thought I could save you. I'm sorry. Please, Gwen. Please. I'm so sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t change the fact that I’m dead,” she smirked, eyes darkening, enjoying his torment. She sunk down to her hands and knees to crawl over him, pressing her skeletal body against him, until he was laying flat against the ground with no where else to go.

"Look at me," she whispered into his ear. “I was going to go Oxford. I was going to be a scientist. I was going to change the world. The only way I can change the world now is by letting the worms feast through my flesh until there is nothing left. Something tasty for the bugs. That's all I am now.”

Peter whimpered, turning his head away from her and flinching into himself.

He heard her sniffle like she was about to start crying. He hated hearing her cry.

"Don't you love me anymore, Peter?" She whined. "Don't you care about me? Why did you find someone else? Why did you forget me so quickly? I loved you so much and you left me for the worms. Only they kiss my skin now."

His heart sank and guilt flooded him. Slowly, he turned his head to face her, blinking up at her. For a moment, she looked just like he remembered. Beautiful. Whole. Healthy. Alive.

Peter gave a shuddered, shaky breath, whispering in awe, "Gwen."

She beamed down at him. There were no rotting teeth, no blood, her hair was full and luscious. She was glowing under golden light with happy tears in her eyes like his memory of her on top of the Brooklyn Bridge.

"Kiss me," she whispered against his lips. "Like you used to."

Peter's eyes slipped close. His heart ached.

"I can't," he mumbled back. "I love someone else now. I love her like I loved you. She..."

He needed to get back to her. She needed him. He needed her. He should have never left her tonight. He had to leave.

A wailing growl shot ice through his veins as Gwen let out a shriek of pain as if she had read his mind. She was back to her decaying corpse. The sight terrified him.

"You will not leave me! I won't let you! You're mine, Peter! Mine!"

Peter kicked up his feet to shove her off of him. He scrambled backwards away from the haunting vision.

"I can't, Gwen," he pleaded. "I can't be with you anymore."

He frantically shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, in an attempt to make her disappear. Usually by now, his girlfriend would hear him screaming. She'd be here to block Gwen from his sights. She'd be there to force her away until he was safe.

Tonight, there was no one but him.

"This isn't real," he muttered to himself. "She's not really here. She's dead. She's buried underground. Locked in a coffin. This isn't real. When I open my eyes, she'll be gone."

He peaked an eye open. A sense of relief washed over him. He was alone in the clock tower. There was no one here but him.

He could still go home. He could still make it back to her before she woke up and rid her bed side of those letters.

She would never have to know.

Peter took a deep breath, half way through exhaling it when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Gwen's decomposing face poked into his peripheral vision as she whispered menacingly in his ear, "Boo."

He screamed, jumping away, to the sound of her taunting laughter.

"I'm still here, Peter!" She cackled. "You can't get rid of me that easily! I am always going to be here. I am always going to follow you. I will never let you go." Her voice softened. Almost sweet. Sad. Longing. "Because I'm your path, Peter. I am always going to be your path. Follow me everywhere just like you promised. I want you to follow me. I need you..."

She reached out her hand for him to take. The skin had rotted away around the tips of her fingers leaving nothing by bones reaching for him.

This wasn't his Gwen. His Gwen was dead. She was buried in the ground surrounded by fresh flowers. The thing in front of him was nothing but a product of his own twisted mind. Birthed from his guilt and excruciating pain. A monster of his own creation.

"I can't," he choked out through his tears. "Someone else needs me now. I'm sorry. I love you. I will always love you. But I can't follow you. Not yet."

Anger flashed over her darkened, bloodshot eyes, “No! You promised you’d follow me anywhere. Follow me to the grave, you liar!”

Peter cringed at her harsh words. Tears blurring his vision. He had promised.

"Gwen, please," he begged. "Let me go."

Her face softened. He watched her grow back into old self again. Her rich purple dress. Lace tights. Knee high boots. Pale blue jacket. All highlighting her perfectly beautiful face. Large, bright green eyes without a blonde hair out of place. Always so put together. Always nothing less than perfection.

"You want me to go?" She asked, turning around slowly for her to take him in. There was no crack in the back of her skull. No blood.

His breath caught in his throat. He tried to reach out for her, to draw her closer against him, but she stepped away. Just out of his reach.

"You want me to go so I'll go." She whispered. "But you'll have to watch. Again and again and again. You'll have to listen to the sound of my skull cracking against the pavement. Hear my spine snap as your web jerks me upwards. Smell my blood pouring from my open, split open head." A trickle of red blood started to leak out her nose as her eyes closed. "Only you can make it all stop. Only you can make me go away. You know exactly how to do it, Peter. All you have to do is follow me. Just like you promised. Follow me and it will all end."

He blinked through his tears, taking a slow step towards her.

"Follow you," he muttered in a trance like state. "I'll follow you anywhere you go. You're my path. I'll write my love for you across the Brooklyn Bridge so everyone in New York can see it."

She smiled, soft and sweet, "Follow me. Don't leave me alone. Stay with me, Peter. Forever."

"Forever..."

Her arms out stretched to her sides and she leaned back, stepping off the ledge and sinking out of sight past the giant gears, hurdling straight towards her death.

"No!" He shouted.

Without thinking, without caring, Peter leapt after her. He had done this move so many times in his nightmares. He had obsessively walked through every single second of her death. Again and again just like she said. He knew it better than he knew himself.

He jumped on instinct. He leapt after her like he always did.

Keeping his promise. Following her down any path she took.

I know you asked how May and Reader would respond to such a thing afterwards but that's like one topic that's just a little too hard for me to write about. I know it's weird that I can talk about Peter throwing himself to his death and I can write about depression and suicidal ideation and self harm and ptsd and guilt and feelings of worthlessness but writing about someone like May (who I relate far too much to my own mother) finding her boy dead is just a hair too much for my heart to take haha. I was originally going to write a scene of his funeral but then I was like nah too much for even me. I can't watch May cry over her dead kid.

I will say that he would be buried next to his parents under the same gravestone which sits besides Ben's. It's a few rows down from Gwen so Peter can always be near her.

I don't even think I actually answered your original ask but I got carried away with Peter in the clock tower!

Also May puts matching flowers on both Peter's and Gwen's graves every time she visits. hahahaha i gotta stop writing fuck me

[flyingspicerack]

Osomatsu Drabble for Anonymous

"Can you write me a drabble where Osomatsu confesses to the reader?"

The sun was setting as the two of you were by the river, the sky growing hues of orange and red, the clouds pink and purple. If you had decided to lie down beside the man next to you, you might see the sky fading to deep dark blue behind you, but you were enjoying the last bit of sunshine left for the day. 

You and your good friend, Osomatsu, had crossed paths earlier that afternoon, catching you as you were taking out your garbage, he having left the pachinko parlor he frequented nearby. He hadn’t won much, only about ¥500, but was very excitedly boasting about his win, then proceeded to make an offer you both knew was silly, treat you to a day on the town. You had commented on it, saying that the miniscule amount of money he had wouldn't get the two of them very far, to which he blatantly admitted he hoped you would in turn, pick up his slack. The audacity of his words amused you, like they usually did, so you actually took him up on his offer, opting to spend the day with this goof considering you didn’t have anything better to do on your day off. 

The two of you spent the entire afternoon doing absolutely nothing, opting to just walk around and sit in the park, people watching. The both of you sat side by side on benches, making up little conversations the people were having, creating drama in your own little world in a little bubble the two of you shared. You changed locations every hour or so, Osomatsu got a bit antsy when staying in one place too long, his legs bouncing impatiently when you two were too idle for his liking. 

He had spent his shiny gold coin a little while ago, opting to buy you and him some onigiri, complaining the whole time that he’d much rather buy beer but you had said you were hungry. However, to appease him, and to mainly get him to stop whining, you got a few beers and a couple snacks for you to share. After buying them, the two of you mosied on down by the river, skipping some rocks, just shooting the shit as you usually did. He complained about his brothers and his plights as a NEET, you complained about your uptight boss and shitty coworkers, something Osomatsu urged you to do often. 

As the sun had made its way lower in the sky, the two of you grew tired and just opted to sit by the river now, reclined on the grassy hill between where the rocks started and the footpath above. You had bought a little 6-pack for the two of you, Osomatsu already drinking his three, while you were sitting and still working on your second one. 

“Heeey, can I have your last beer?” 

You let out a small bark of a laugh, glancing back at him. “No?”

“Whaaaa? But you haven’t even finished that one yet, and you’re gonna drink a whole other can? Bullshit, bet you can’t.” Osomatsu teased. 

You rolled your eyes at him, even though you knew he was actually right, and he knew he was right too. Your threshold was usually two, to two and a half beers, depending on how much you ate. Glancing down to the can in your hand, then to the plastic shopping bag where the last beer sat, you pondered what to do. 

“C’mooooooooooon, just gimme the can!” He sat up now, the two of you eye level. 

Without really thinking much more about it, you handed him the half drank can you were already working on. “Here, just finish this one, I get the full one.”

“Heh, half a beer is better than nothing.” He said with a shrug, taking the can and immediately throwing his head back, chugging the rest of the can.

As he worked the can, you grabbed the last one and cracked it open, bringing the metal to your lips and taking a sip before you paused. 

“Ahhhh, yeah, that’s the stuff.” Osomatsu smacked his lips as he made a satisfied hum, happy to get what he wanted before the realization set in. 

The two of you had just indirectly kissed… You sure as hell weren’t going to say anything about it, that's for sure. You had been battling how you’d been feeling about Osomatsu for some time now, your feelings spilling over from friend to crush, it was hard to sleep some nights… most nights, since he was always on your mind. 

Maybe he wouldn’t bring it up, maybe he won’t notice… You hoped he wouldn’t actually, if he said something it would make it real, it would make it something you’d have to deal with… You didn’t want to deal with it, not right now… You liked how things were, there was no point fucking up your friendship by-

“Hey.”

“Hm?” Immediately pulling away from your thoughts, you looked over to meet Osomatsu’s gaze, his eyes just a bit hazy. He had a tolerance barely higher than you, usually three to four was his limit. 

“Why aren’t ya saying anything?” He asked, bumping his shoulder against yours.

“Hm? About?” You asked, tilting your head a bit.

His mouth widened into a cheeky smile. “Awww, don’t tell me the indirect kiss you just pulled wasn’t on purpose.”

Your eyes widened and before your embarrassment set in, you put on a confident front, something of a defense mechanism for you. “Ha! What? Osomatsu, you’re such a kid sometimes…” You turned your head away, staring now at the river water as it flowed by.

“Oh, so it wasn’t? Man, aren't I lucky then! An accidental indirect kiss with you of all people? Better than any pachinko jackpot.”

You paused, keeping your head straight ahead, but glanced over in his direction beside you with your eyes. “What… does that mean?” You asked, taking another sip of your beer.

“You know, cause you’re you?” He said it in a way he implied it was obvious.

You weren’t understanding and finally turned your head to look at him, your eyebrows furrowing, hoping he would elaborate. 

“You know… You’re hot, you’re funny, you know how to take a dirty joke, not too serious, not to mention you buy and treat me to shit! What I wouldn’t give to make you mine.” He said all with a bright smile on his face.

“Why don’t you then?” It slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. 

Osomatsu blinked at you, his smile staying there, but the slight confusion was apparent in his irises. “Huh?”

Your mouth moved again without you able to catch up. “Why don’t you make me yours?”

The man started to falter, his smile fading, his red, tipsy cheeks growing deeper in hue. He turned his head away and brought a hand to his face, it covering his nose and mouth as he started to stammer, his words muffled. “Shit… don’t say stuff like that, you’ll make me think you're serious.”

You moved your head forward again, looking to the surface of the water once more. Who would have thunk than an accidental kiss would have led to a seemingly accidental confession on Osomatsu’s part, if that’s really what this was. “And… What if I was? What… would you do?”

“Are you?” He asked.

“Are you?” You asked back. 

The two of you looked at one another at the same time, each equally red in the face as your gazes met. You sat there in silence for a few beats before the both of you erupted into laughter, his shoulder bumping into yours and you bumping back. Bright, loud laughing, sweet light airy giggles, snorting, and howling filled the air as your laughs morphed and melded with one another. 

When you finished laughing, you handed him your beer, deciding to pass it between the both of you until it was empty, sitting and watching the sunset beyond the horizon, the sky slowly turning more and more purple. You each rested your hands down on the grass beside one another, and a moment later, they inched closer and closer, your pinkies intertwining as you sat, your head making its way to his shoulder. A moment later you felt a warm set of lips against your temple, causing your stomach to grow tight and your heart to grow full. 

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

This is war, pt. 2

PART 1  

Summary: Riven finds himself struggling to keep up with Y/N’s mind games while he plots his own revenge.

Warnings: violence, sexual innuendos, swearing

Pairing: Riven x specialist!reader

__________________

Smirking, Y/N winks at Riven as he passes through the training grounds to take his place. There are dark, purple circles under his eyes and a thin white tape across his nose. Part of her still finds satisfaction in breaking Riven's nose a few days ago, because the look of absolute disbelief in his eyes would fuel her confidence in training for weeks. 

Ever since it happened, she's been unbeatable and quite a few guys have had their egos bruised. Thanks to Andreas and his inclusivity rules, girls vs. boys training battles have proven Riven wasn't the only one slacking with his training under Saul's care.

"You did that, didn't you", Sky asks.

Looking up at her ex, Y/N shrugs off his amused grin.

"Did he tell you that?"

"He didn't have to", Sky chuckles. "The death stare he gives you is pretty hard to miss."

Biting her lower lip, she suppresses a smile. "I like his death stare."

"No", Sky lowers his voice to a near whisper. "You like Riven."

Raising her brows, she turns to him. "Actually, I despise him."

Sky frowns, "Since when do you lie to me?"

"Since when is my love life of interest to you?"

Clearing his throat, Sky purses his lips. "Since I realized you dated me, but actually wanted my best friend."

Rolling her eyes, she lets out an annoyed huff. "We haven't trained together in a while", she notes. "Perhaps it's time we get into a rink and you can clear out those frustrations you seem to harbor about us from a year ago."

"I don't have any", Sky remarks. "You're just mad I can read you so easily."

"I'm mad because you going to start rumors saying shit like that!" Y/N whisper shouts. "I'd rather not have my name tied to Riven for the rest of our days here."

"Because you hate him?" Sky furrows his brows, skeptical about her reasoning.

"Yes. Also because he's a womanizer and I'd rather not end up on some slimy little list of his conquests others seem to keep."

Nodding, Sky keeps his eyes firmly on her as she turns to where Riven was winning his fight with Dane.

"That's fair, but you might want to forget about your reservations concerning Riven and actually get to know him. I think you'd be a good pair. He might be exactly what you're looking for."

Snorting, she places her hands on her hips. "Just because you saw me naked, doesn't mean you know everything about me, Sky."

"I didn't mean to", Sky begins but she's quick to shut him up.

"And yet you did. Keep your ill-conceived notions about me and Riven to yourself. I broke his damn nose, I didn't fuck him. That's how it's going to stay."

Passing by Sky, Y/N headed to school, still angry. She should have stayed and fought someone else to let the frustrations out of her system but she needed to get away from both Sky and Riven. Of course she likes Riven, she knows that too, but not this version of him. Unlike the freshman she liked, this version of him makes her blood boil and if they were stuck in a locked room somewhere she'd probably murder him within an hour.

Besides, Riven has been anything but shy about the way he dislikes Y/N. The snarky remarks about her clothes, the glares he'd send her way whenever she'd dare look at him with that disgusting scowl he sports, the constant jabs at her fighting abilities, and the incessant moaning about her presence in his life have made it very, very clear what he thinks of her.

Why would she ever want to admit she might have liked him? That she waited for him to ask her out and yet he never did. Sky got to her first, he was the one who had taken initiative and for a while, Y/N didn't think about Riven. Sky was a wonderful, much needed distraction. But as all distractions, it couldn't last forever and when she parted ways with Sky, Riven seemed almost tolerable.

Until now. She enjoyed torturing him for a change.

It irks her how little he seems to care for the way his actions affect others, so she made sure to show him what it’s like when the tables turn and he’s on the receiving end.

To make it easier, Y/N set a tutoring session with Sky for the next day. Riven was on schedule for guard duty and so they had the room to themselves. As Sky was busy with a mini exam she gave him, Y/N used the bathroom – BUT she also tampered with Riven’s shampoo bottle. It was easy to tell which one was his, all she needed was a whiff after which she completed her prank. Would she ever admit how she identified exactly which shampoo bottle was his because somehow she knew what Riven’s hair smells like? Never.

The next day, Riven showed up to training with a full head of bubblegum pink hair. Most of the guys stared and laughed at him, the girls taking pictures for posterity. His grouchy face only made it better for once, even the seemingly permanent scowl on his face was entertaining.

“I think we have a lost fairy on our hands”, she remarked as Riven’s nostrils flare.

“Watch it”, he warns her only to be met with a smug smirk on her face. His jaw drops and his eyes narrow at her, “You did this!”

Raising her hands in mock surrender, Y/N bites her lower lip and shrugs innocently. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Clenching his jaw, it took Riven less than a second to tower over her with a menacing glare. “Don’t play with me.”

“Is your puffed out chest meant to scare me?” Y/N raises a brow before whispering, “Because we both know I can take you in a fight.”

Pursing his lips, he grimaces.

“Besides, I’d never choose pink. Purple would suit those bruises much better”, she winks before taking a step back. “Or maybe I would? It kinda makes your eyes poP!”

All but growling, Riven grabs her by the arm, pulling her up to his chest. With his free hand, he grips her jaw tightly, his fingertips pressing into the bone as he raises her head up. “What is your damage?!”

“Talent”, she smirks, ignoring the ache his fingers are causing. She’s always bruised easily and this felt like it’s going to need a good makeup trick to cover in the coming week, making a mental note to call up Stella for tips.

“Riven”; Sky raises his voice, “Let her go!”

“Talent for being a bitch”, Riven states before releasing her from his grip. “I’d watch my back if I were you.”

“Is that a threat”, she folds her arms over her chest. “Or a promise?” Walking past him, she pauses as her shoulder brushes his arm. “Because I do like it from the back.”

Blinking fast, Riven rubs his chin in exasperation. He’s not entirely sure what he woke up in Y/N with that sparring session, but it can’t be good. He wanted to make her fall in love with him, to make a play for her heart and shatter it, but this? She’s too good at playing with his mind…or perhaps he’s just too easily angered. Either way, his plan will never work if he doesn’t let up on her.

“Y/L/N!” He calls out, seeing her turn halfway to meet his gaze with slight confusion. It seems she thought she had the last word and hearing his voice threw her off for a moment. “I kinda like it”, he points to his atrocious hair. “You’re right about making my eyes pop. I’ll make sure to let you look deeply in them before I knock you on your ass later today.”

“What?”

Coming closer, he purses his lips. “I’m asking you to spar with me.”

“Again?”

Shrugging, he smirks. “Well, I didn’t ask the first time. We were assigned to each other.”

“And you want to do it voluntarily now?” She narrows her eyes before sighing. “I don’t trust you.”

“And I don’t trust you”, he remarks. “But I want to train with the best and as much as it pains me to admit it…you’re one of the top students in our class.”

Frowning, she takes a step closer. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?”

Gnawing at the inside of her bottom lip, she nods. “Hand to hand, no weapons.”

“I’ll even let you have a safe word”, Riven wiggles his eyebrows while hers furrow.

“I don’t know what you’re planning, but I don’t like it.”

Chuckling, he nods. “We both know you’ll still show up.”

“Why’s that?” She tilts her head ever so slightly to the left, a few loose strands of hair falling on her face from behind her ear. She usually braids her hair ahead of training, but it’s in a loose, messy bun today. Riven wondered why, but he’d never ask. He shouldn’t even be wondering about her choices in hair styling.

“You’re far too curious not to come.” Riven licks his lips, glancing at hers in the process. “It’s probably going to get you killed one of these days.”

“I’m sure you’d love that.”

“Not as much as you’d expect”, Riven counters. “As much as I despise your existence, you make life interesting…sometimes.”

Taking a step back, she nods carefully. “I definitely don’t trust you now.”

“Why not?”

“One minute you want me dead, another you compliment me? Either you’re completely bonkers, or you’re plotting something.”

“Don’t pretend you’re not plotting too”, he grins. “So I’ll see you today?”

Glancing at Sky with uncertainty, contemplating the light shake of his head she took as a warning, Y/N sighs. “Sure. Might as well see if the pink hair gives you any edge.”

“It definitely has magic powers.” Riven chuckles. “Got us to have a semi normal conversation, didn’t it?”

Swallowing thickly, she nods. “After you wanted to choke me.”

“Thought you said you’re into it”, Riven bites his lower lip as he notices her cheeks darken and her eyes widen as everyone turns their attention to her. He made sure he was loud enough for everyone to hear it and he was even louder when he spoke next. “Or is it only when you’re pressed against a wall?”

Riven never saw her cheeks so red and for a moment he was sure her eyes would explode as his words made everyone whisper among themselves, the rumors about them already flying. If he knows Y/N at all, it will drive her insane. She messed with his hair, but he can mess with her just as well.

If war is what she wanted, then war she’ll get.

[femmmie]

THE ISLAND

Read the entire fic on AO3

Chapter 9: The crash

Things have taken a turn. What will Dave Dilford do now he's unemployed? Also, Ian, Shayne and Courtney are flying on Air Force 1. But Ian senses something's not right...

Chapter word count: 1.503

Rating: teen

“Effective immediately, Defy Media has ceased business.”

As soon as he read the e-mail, Dave Dilford dropped his phone.

“What the hell?!”

He scrambled to pick it back up. His custom Roblox case fell off, but he didn’t have time to put it back. He immediately called every member of the board.

“Shit! Pick up, you boring fucks!”

Noone responded.

As he walked out of his office, into the hall, several other people were already standing there. They were holding their phones and stared at each other with expressions of disbelief and just dumbfoundedness.

“Is it really true?” Dave mumbled, more to himself than to his colleagues. But one of them said, “yeah, we’re unemployed now.”

Suddenly, a junior consultant ran through the hall, screaming, “LET’S SET THIS BUILDING ON FIREEEE”.

This got everyone out of their trance, and they all walked to the lunch hall where people were already rioting.

“Hecox…” Dave balled his fists and punched one against the wall. In the chaos that surrounded him, nobody even noticed. He screamed and stormed out of the building.

Still fuming, and with a sore hand, he drove home in his Volkswagen Atlas Cross Sport. He was deep in thought. His plans were all ruined now. Helping this new guy win over the U.S. with a smile and a wink and nod, and memes. Dave had hoped to become chief of communications in the Hecox administration.

At home in his small living room, he switched on the tv. The news had just now broken about Defy.

“It is a grim day for president Hecox. Donors have fled ever since he shared his extreme and populist agenda. And now, superPAC Defy Media has stopped operations. Hecox’s radical decisions have been quite popular with the people but the former power players in Washington are not happy. Without access to the president, how can they advance their interests?”

“Hecox! You ruined me!” Dave stood up and called a number.

~

Ian, Shayne and Courtney entered Air Force One. They were headed to a foreign country to broker peace talks and try to get some sort of ceasefire deal.

“I love the country,” Courtney said. They were absolutely rocking a hot pink blazer and shorts. “But I don’t see how we’re going to stop this conflict… it’s gone on for so long.” They looked out of the window as the plane ascended.

“Yeah, and the people are so friendly! Why is it that good people elect terrible leaders so often? No offense, Ian.” Shayne shot Ian a playful smirk.

“None taken, man. Just wait until I decree statues of myself all over the world, with a huge dong of course.”

“Actually, that would be pretty awesome.”

Ian and Shayne often bantered like this, and Ian found some solace in it. But even so, he would love someone who would shock HIM with something outrageous. And Shayne had tried but never succeeded, at least not yet.

“It would be, right?”

“Guys!” Courtney said fake-exasperated.

After a few hours had passed, Ian looked out of the window. He saw blue skylines in every direction. And he got an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach. Was this it?

He tried to act cool. “Shouldn’t we be there yet?”

Shayne was totally relaxed. “Maybe some high-altitude winds or something?”

“Only high-altitude wind here is Courtney’s passing gas all the time.”

“Hey!” Courtney protested with a burp.

Shayne kissed them on the cheek.

“Yall are disgusting,” Ian joked. But he couldn’t help but feel like something was off.

“We haven’t heard from the pilot once yet, right? I find it a bit odd. Could you check with them on why we’re taking a detour?”

“Sure!” Shayne walked up to the cockpit.

~

They were falling, fast.

“What’s happening?!”

Courtney stumbled towards the cockpit where Shayne had disappeared just moments ago. Where was he? But then they heard shots, and a couple of loud thuds.

“Shayne!” Courtney shrieked. “Shayne!!”

No answer. The door of the cockpit was locked.

The oxygen was quickly running out and their vision became blurry. They banged their fists on the closed door, then tried to claw it open.

“Shayne, honey… please hold on… I’m… I’m on my way…”

~

What was left of the plane, was quickly filling with water and beginning to sink.

A black boat appeared out of the thick mist that lay over the water. And a guy dressed in all black dove in. He was under for a long time.

Tommy nearly fainted as he held his breath, standing on deck. He really didn’t like the sea. He did respect it, he wanted the best for it, but he didn’t want to be in, on or even near it. And he certainly didn’t want Spencer to risk his life diving around a sinking plane.

Tommy and Spencer had been stealthily following a speedboat. But their plans had dramatically changed as they saw Air Force 1 fall out of the sky.

Spencer immediately went into GI Joe mode. It was like a switch had flicked inside of him. From goofy and lovable back to being a dangerous spy.

He resurfaced with not one but two people. They were both unconscious.

Panting, he handed the bodies to Tommy. “Do you know CPR?”

“Uhm, uhh..” Tommy was stuttering. “Y- Yes, I am OSHA-certified…”

“Quickly, save their lives, I’m going back in.”

“But Spe-” and he was gone. Damn.

Tommy tried his hardest. The first person, a beefy blonde guy, barfed up some sea water and came to his senses. At first, he just blinked and tried to reorient himself. But then he saw the other person. He jumped up.

“Courtney!” Shayne cried, horrified.

“I’m going to try to get her back,” Tommy tried to reassure him.

Shayne kneeled at Courtney’s side and squeezed their hand. He was bleeding but he only had eyes for his beloved Courtney. Tears ran down his face, or maybe it was water still running down from his hair. “Please, save them…”

Tommy kept pumping, blowing air into their lungs… Shayne screamed, it was horrible to see someone so distraught up-close.

Finally, a whole heap of water catapulted out of Courtney.

They slowly opened their eyes. “Hmm, still better than My Favorite Coffee.”

Shayne took them into his arms and hugged them so tightly, Courtney winced.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry, honey, are you okay?”

“As okay as you could be after a plane crash, I guess.” They said it so matter-of-factly that both Shayne and Tommy laugh-cried.

“Thank you so much, mister, for helping us. What an incredible coincidence that you just happened to be here!”

“Yeah, about that…” Tommy began, but Spencer resurfaced again.

“We have to go,” he said urgently.

“Where is the president?!” Shayne and Courtney protested.

“The president?!” Tommy gasped.

“NOW!” Spencer commanded and shuttled all of them into the cabin of the boat. He went out on deck once more and released a couple of lifeboats.

“That’s the best I can do for now, president Hecox, I’m sorry. But I’ve met my match.”

Spencer couldn’t believe it. All his years of experience couldn’t have prepared him for this.

There were several adversaries on board the sinking plane. How that could even happen was beyond him. But he fought most of them off easily, his martial arts training paying off handsomely.

Only one of them remained. Spencer had a hard time cornering him.

It wasn’t even a guard or a terrorist. He looked like some tech-bro or something. a sickly pale skin color, bags under his eyes… but a terrifying fire lay within them. Spencer had never known fear until he saw that face. His entire body told him this man was dangerous.

They brawled for a while but neither of them could get the upper hand. Until the guy took a can of gasoline that was randomly aboard the plane and got a golden anime-boob lighter out of his wet jorts.

“But the president is still out there!” Spencer had shouted, catching the guy off-guard.

“He’s still out there?! Okay, that’s even better!”

Dave licked his lips maniacally, and spat, “I am going to blow this shit up, so you better run, boy!”

Spencer was ashamed to say that he did run.

But there was still no explosion. Should he turn back? Had he failed? Spencer’s world was spinning.

A warm hand touched his shoulder, bringing him back to earth.

“Spencer?”

“Oh. Hey.”

Tommy hugged him.

“Thank you for keeping me safe.”

“Thank you for saving those people’s lives.”

“We saved them together…” Tommy walked his fingers around Spencer’s neckline.

“I was pretty awesome, I’ll admit. It kinda felt like a Solid Snake mission.”

“Oh my god!” Tommy couldn’t help but laugh. Why was this FBI-agent also a gamer?

“Hey. Want an ice cream?” Spencer caught him off-guard.

“We have those on board?”

“Of course.”

Tommy blushed. “Spencer… you know exactly what I need.”

“Do I, now?”

Tommy got all four of them ice creams.

[nerdthatsiriuslylovesteaxx]

Helpless part 13 (Hello I hope someone is listening)

"Morning Death boy."

"What time is it?"

"Eight o'clock I the morning."

"Goodnight Giraffe."

"Get up, we're getting breakfast."

"Let me sleep."

"Nope." Nico was refusing to get up so Will decided to do the only logical thing and pick him up.

"Put me down Solace."

"Don't think I will Death breath."

"That's a new one."

"Thought of it on the spot."

"Good for you Sunshine, now put me down."

"Not a fan of that idea." Will ran, carrying a very pissed Nico. "Hey Percy."

"Hi Will, should I ask why you're carrying Nico and also how you haven't gotten murdered yet?"

"Well he wouldn't get up so it was to only logical solution."

"Fuck you." Nico muttered,

"I wish you luck on not getting murdered."

"You know I could just shadow travel away?"

"No you quite literally can not, it would kill you."

"Great."

"Neeks."

"Do you have a death wish Will?"

"He's harmless."

"I have killed people William."

"I can confirm this, I was nearly a victim."

"Let's not forget you also tired to kill me."

"Why are you two trying to kill each other?"

"We don't talk about that."

"He's annoying as fuck." Percy and Nico said at the same time, locking eyes with each other, leading to a mildly concerned Will.

"Okay.... I'm going to pretend this never happen." Will placed Nico on the floor.

"Finally."

"Di Angelo, me and Jason-"

"-Jason and I."

"Not you to, same thing. We have decided to kidnap you, you're finally joining us on the big three table."

"Why exactly?"

"You'll get lonely."

"I'm perfectly fine being alone."

"Too bad, sucks for you."

"Stronzo." Nico muttered under his breath before waking off to join Jason, Percy went to follow him but Will pulled him back.

"Make sure he eats three full meals a day, shove it down his throat if you have to. I'm not joking, if he's refusing to eat or drink hold him down and make sure he eats for the next few months. I don't know how he's still alive at this point."

"I'll make sure he eats; mate you alright? Your eyes are bloodshot, when's the last time you slept?"

"A few days ago, I'm fine."

"A few days?! Mate, you need to sleep."

"I'll survive, pure chaos in the infirmary. Oh, don't tell Nico this but, you know how Aphrodite kids can speak French because it's the language of love? I can speak Itallian because it's the language of music, so if you were wondering, when he walked off he called you an asshole."

"Eh, not surprising. I'll catch you around Will."

"Yeah see you round." Willl walked off to join his siblings at the Apollo table.

***

"Don't think we didn't hear that, you're taking today off and no night watch until Tuesday." Kayla said pulling Will down and shoving a piece of toast in his hand, "And you're eating breakfast today, you've skipped it for a week."

"I've been busy."

"Would you like me to show you a list of every single person you've told to stop skipping meals? Let me start the list, Nico, Selina, Leo, Beckendorf, Annabeth, Michael-"

"Okay, okay you win. But I can't take the day off-"

"Not optional, go pine over Nico for the day or something. Maybe even, you know, sleep? Can't remember the last time you did that, more than a week."

"Oh shut up."

"Actually, I have a great idea." Austin interrupted, "Go talk to Cecil and Lou Ellen, they tired to kidnap you many, many times."

"Shit, yeah I should probably go talk to them." Will tried to get up but was held down by his younger siblings,

"Not so fast, you're still eating breakfast." After being force fed three full plates and swearing on the river of Styx that he would get eight hours of sleep that night he was finally allowed to leave.

***

"Finally, we missed you. We've been waiting for you to get off work for the past week." Lou Ellen said punching him in the arm.

"I should probably tell my siblings the kidnapping's off..."

"The what?!"

"Well me and Cecil tried, but Kayla found out we were coming and stopped us."

"So then I thought if I got the rest of the Hermes kids in on it they couldn't stop all of us."

"Of course you did."

"Well you're always in the infirmary."

"I've been busy for a few days, that's all."

"Well I know you haven't slept properly for the last eight days, and that you always insist on taking night watch."

"And anything difficult, and Nico."

"So? I'm fine, just busy."

"You're overworking."

"No I'm not."

"Will when was the last time you took a break?"

"Last year, Michael and Lee's funeral, I took half a day off."

"You can't do that to yourself."

"I can't let Kayla and Austin burn themselves out."

"Gods, I can't do this right now. I'm going to trust your siblings to talk some sense into you; want to go steal something?"

"I'm down, we just need to be back by three. In time for the thing." Lou Ellen smirked,

"Ohh rightttt."

"What did you do?!"

"You'll find out Sun boy."

"I'm scared."

"You should be."

***

_______

I wonder, if nobody is listening to my voice. Am I making any sound at all?

I hope you're prepared for what's coming soon.

[tentacledwizard]

tumblr user tentacledwizard reviews: Employee of the Month

 

  So recently [read: a few hours ago], @cgtg hosted a sort of movie night. The movie was Employee of the Month, starring Dane Cook. I joined it because I am always willing to expand my cinematic repertoire and also cgtg’s Davekat stuff is really good. Like I don’t even ship Davekat that much but their content is excellent. And the Sandler rap perfectly encapsulates my opinions on Adam Sandler as an actor, because ever since my dad played Billy Madison my life has been ok I’ll just do the review now.

So okay, I was prepared to have an ironically good time. I was convinced the movie would be 100% shit tier, just like Dave Strider said. But I should have known that Dave is not a reliable source. Because this movie was fun. I had a great time. When it comes to official reviews, I’ve seen mainly lukewarm/frosty attitudes towards Employee of the Month but *clears throat* Whatever. 

Now, those who know me know of my passionate love for Home Depot. And if you didn’t know about this, now you do. I wrote a Home Depot/necromancy story in like 7th grade. Home Depot is paradise on earth. You could survive a zombie apocalypse in there. It has everything you need for survival- shelter, crops, energy drinks, etc. This movie basically takes place inside a Home Depot. I forget what the store was actually called. It doesn’t matter. You just need to understand that I love Home Depot so I will generally enjoy movies set inside Home Depots. That was a pretty big factor in my enjoyment. Never mind the fact that this was filmed inside a Costco.

Now onto the actual movie. By rom-com standards, is this a good rom-com? Ehhh. No. The main romance between Dane Cook and “Blond Tart” was half-baked. I saw nothing that distinguished the fair-haired love interest from the other rom-com love interests before/after her, except maybe her big ears. The pair had like nothing in common, mainly because I don’t really know about their interests? Gotta say that Dane Cook had far more chemistry with the other blond tart (aka the antagonist). I wasn’t rooting for the main couple. This is also partly because of the movie’s intense homosexuality. I am not even kidding. Their date was cute though, I just wish they actually had some things in common and we learned more about the love interest.

So basically the plot is that this guy Zack (Dane Cook) works at Fictional!Home Depot and he seems like kind of a “slacker.” He is rivals with a smarmy blond Eminem cousin named Vince (Dax Shepard), who seems like a “stand up guy.” Obviously he is a douche bag who flirts with everyone in a very unprofessional way. There’s some kind of subplot about the store trying to beat another retail place. Then this new employee (Jessica Simpson) waltzes into the place. (I could say she “breasted boobily,” but nah.) Her name is Amy and she allegedly has a thing for employees of the month. So Zack falls in love, but obviously Vince starts making some moves on her. Now Zack has to win Employee of the Month to get the girl, or else Vince will. (There was nothing to worry about though, he dates Amy without even getting the position yet. Also Vince is super awkward/gay.) 

So let me just bullet point this. I’ll cover the characters/plot points/romance plots.

CHARACTERS:

Zack: The main character, Dane Cook. For everyone watching, there was this process of thinking oh no he’s cute and then falling in love with him. Look, he is actually pretty cute. I don’t make the rules. That dorky smile of his is great. He does have his flaws, like being focused only on his own problems. Dude just apologize. But they do get addressed. He’s a pretty good main character, and he really knows how to treat a girl. Home Depot date? SIGN ME UP. That’s going to be me some day, ok? I will meet some dude who shares my love for Home Depot and together we will wander the dusky aisles filled with all manner of appliances. Welp I kind of lost the plot. Anyway he has great date ideas. His little yellow car thing is a complete travesty but I will let it slide. Jorge has the better yellow vehicle but of course he does. Jorge is gangsta. 

(guy has that Kubrick stare)

Vince: The main antagonist besides the nebulous “corporate.” At first he seems like a blond flashlight that draws in the ladies like moths. He truly seems like a suave douchebag. As the movie goes on, you learn that this is untrue (the “suave” part). He is really awkward. Probably the only person in love with him is my main guy Jorge (Efren Ramirez). More on that at ten. Anyway, Vince is really good at cashiering. He does an unprofessional little circus act with the products that makes the ladies allegedly swoon. He gets Employee of the Month many, many times. Can Zack possibly usurp him?? Who knows! So yeah, Vince is a sopping and pathetic fellow. At some points you want him to shut up, but at other points you feel this deep well of pity for his plight. Negative points for using the r-word once >:( but also hey this is 2006. 

Amy: Uh. Ummm. Well she seems very friendly and… like a love interest. Uh… I’m sure there has to be more to her. Right? Oh well. Her big ears are pretty cute. Sadly, she doesn’t exactly have a personality or agency over the plot. I don’t really like plots that are just two guys fighting over a girl, except that turned out to not really be part of the movie so it’s fine. At least she called out Zack when he was being stupid, but that was mainly just to milk some drama. I think she and Lily should date.

Jorge: Jorge, the man that you are. Look, he is amazing and I cannot lie. What even is a salmon churro? The entire chat was yelling every time he was on screen. He first appears as Vince’s lackey, and he mainly helps out Vince with his various sabotage attempts. But he turns out to have more depth than that. He is like a short bug. He is willing to stab an old lady. Jorge is what we call “gangsta.” Everything he does is cool in a Jorge sort of way. He really made the movie. You can fight me on this. 

Lily: The Human Resources manager. Okay, so she doesn’t have dialogue (I think) but I wanted to include her here because she is cool and really pretty and I had a minor sexuality crisis once she arrived on screen (it happens every other day. Don’t worry about it). I like the lily in her hair. She was so real for accepting a bribe and eating that Butterfinger. <3

Grandma: She could be referred to as feisty. You could also say she’s bisexual. Kudos to her for keeping it real with Zack. The “seed of love” speech was…really dubious!

Boss man: Whatever is going on with him, it’s very gay. He outright says that he thinks/has thought about kissing guys. Maybe there’s something between him and the policeman? Anyway, I feel pretty bad that his older brother emasculated him. Not much else to say. He’s not exactly a paragon of professionalism, which is what makes this movie fun. He totally wants to be the fatherly boss but he fails. His lackey’s name is Dirk. Strider reference? You know it. (This was made 3 years before homestuck started).

BOSS Boss Man, aka Corporate Incarnate: Boss Man’s big brother, in the age sense. Okay, this guy kind of scares me. He is way less relaxed than Boss Man, and he certainly can drub people with canes. He runs a tight ship, so obviously he won’t stand for the main character mayhem going on. 

Iqbal: I don’t remember a ton of stuff about him, but he is like a lot of my family friends. He deserves good stuff because he had to put up with Zack’s crap for longer than necessary. Do I have to cover every single character? How about we move onto the main thing: shipping. It’s not really the main thing, but I'm going insane over it so for me it is.

SHIPS:

  Oh man okay, here we go. I already covered my very few thoughts on Zack/Amy so here are some ships that I find interesting.

Zack/Vince: Basically, the plot of the movie revolves around these two and their rivalry. I kind of doubt their hate is platonic. At one point Vince compares them to a pair of “old gay sailors.” Zack’s face really says it all, honestly:

Their scenes together had a ton of sexual chemistry. Intense Kubrick stares. Toreador-ish mop fights. Breaking into the other person’s house to make them late for work. You know. Like that. We all agreed that they are best summarized as “toxic yaoi.” Essentially, they are kismeses. Also, Vince is a complete mess around Amy but seems way more comfortable antagonizing Zack. I don’t think Zack is really into Vince, but it’s an interesting thought.

Vince/Jorge: Now this. THIS is the true romance of the story. You think I’m kidding? This is pretty much canon (or at least heavily implied). Where Zack and Vince had some sexual tension, these two have a Home Depot’s worth of romantic tension. They have so many little moments, like when they just kind of solemnly listen to music in a car (which turns out to be a bookend). They’re constantly around each other, and their relationship actually has an arc. Vince starts out kind of using Jorge as a henchman, but then Jorge goes against that. There’s a temporary breakup, and Vince kind of loses it. He has no one to talk to now. But he’s willing to pull himself together and give Jorge the space he needs to think things through. And THEN they have this big moment where they get back together as equals and it’s beautiful and okay it’s easier to just show you. 

(Previous image) Here we have Jorge helping Vince with his dorky-ass heelies because Vince is trying to be a coolkid like Zack.

And then we have that whole moment over there. They’re holding hands! (Hurt/comfort moment tbh)

THEIR VICTORY DANCES?? HELLO?? This is adorable i can’t

Okay, this is blatantly romantic. The words “please, come home” imply that they share a home. Perhaps they are even… roommates? But look, the normally rude Vince is actually being considerate. And he calls Jorge “homes.” Jorge normally calls him that!

Full access to the cashier’s lounge? Jorge you mad lad. 

Awww-

Okay I gasped aloud at this part. They are married. Or like they will be at some point in time. “It just feels right” yeah they are SO married. Look at the height difference. They are everything, as of four hours ago. This is cinema.

I can’t do this man why did I start reviewing this. They use each other’s pet names. Shit. Fuck you, Dane Cook movies. I hate feeling emotion like this.

yes, Jorge and Vince were the real romance subplot all along. They’re literally the last scene of the movie.

Look at the smile on Jorge’s face. Jegus. This ship is everything. These two were the real emotional core of the movie. Without them, I’d just be like “eh whatever at least it was fun.” But damn, they really delivered on the romance subplot.

Uh… Yeah I can’t really think of any other ships that I like. Vince/Amy sucks and they had nothing to say to each other. I like the idea of Amy/Lily, though! I think either of them could make employee of the month. I guess Amy/Zack is good for now though.

OTHER THINGS:

That clubhouse is awesome. Probably a big hazard considering it’s on top of that big shelf. But hey I want a Home Depot buddy lair too!

Vince saying he can get a little anal…. >:? Sir what.

Amy’s really out there auspiticizing for Zack and Vince huh? She deserves good things for having to put up with that

Why did it suddenly turn into a sports movie for a few minutes? Why were they playing softball against another hardware store? We may never know.

Banger soundtrack. 10/10.

And that’s a wrap everyone, catch me crying over the hug or making “ironic” fanart of Dane Cook and co. I really enjoyed this and I will hopefully be there for the next flick. Wow I wrote a lot about this movie. Uh. Consider it ironic, I suppose.

[woneuntonzz]

hypothesis || smau — c.s, j.wy

➤ chapter 24 (back to chapters)

highschool senior!san x highschool senior!reader x highschool senior!wooyoung

contains: humor, fluffy fluff, angst (just a tiny bit), light cursing, unhinged (as always), highschool au, reader is named & afab

» Got yourself some girl dinner.

⛦ ᴊᴏɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ!

more under the cut .ᐟ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

\\

A few hours later…

It felt like it had only been a minute since San had asked you out to dinner —or got influenced by your very skillful flirting— and now you were on his car’s passenger seat. After everything that’s been revealed to the both of you, and now that you’re with each other, each and every one of your senses heightened. It didn’t help when San couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at you. 

San finally admitting his feelings somehow intensified it to the point where he was manically grinning to himself seeing that you both wore the same color of clothes.

“You okay?” he asks, breaking the silence and hoping to finally hear your voice again. Earlier when he had first arrived, all he got from you was soft little yeses and nos, and shy smiles —even just that made him remind himself to not let his intrusive thoughts win and overwhelm you by doing som

“Yeah, It’s just… I didn’t know my first actual date would be with you.” you finally managed to utter. His soft chuckle gave you enough encouragement to look at him, his eyes were focused on the road ahead but he wore a smile, and he’d bite down on his bottom lip to keep his smile from spreading even wider. “And we were only good friends about ten hours ago.”

He laughs, though a bit suppressed, it would make you inhale a great mass of air as you held back a giggle. “And ten hours later, what are we?”

“You tell me.” San stopped at a red light, with the usual amount of traffic for that time of the day. 

The wait was lengthy enough that San took it upon himself to meet your eyes for the first time since he’d picked you up, and since you’ve confessed to each other. It felt different, knowing that the feelings were mutual. “We’re more than good friends, aren’t we?” his voice was low, and it lulled you, almost wanting to lean yourself onto him. 

“I guess we are.” your tone of voice mirrored his, and it would have the same effect on him, his eyes dilating a tad with the sensations being evoked by the sweet sound of your voice. 

His other hand that was free from the wheel would gradually move its way up to where your hand reached to place a bottle into one of the cupholders, and he’d take ahold of your hand before you could settle it back on your lap. That’s one intrusive thought, shit. To his surprise, your hand would ease in his grasp, and when he gave it a light squeeze, you were repeating prayers in your head, hoping God would give you the strength to not pass out then and there. 

“Since when?” his question would have you feeling perplexed at first, but you’d figure quite quickly what he meant by it.

“Since we became thesismates.” then you felt his thumb lightly graze over the back of your hand. 

“Really?”

“Really. I mean, at first I just thought you were…” you physically cringed, you haven’t even said the word, but your face turned sour. 

“What?” 

“Nothing you haven’t heard before.”

“Hmm, sorry I can’t quite tell exactly what it is.”

You take a deep breath, and the whole time he had his head tilted, smiling and tittering at your adorable mannerisms. “I thought you were hot, but I wasn’t weird about it, I swear!”

You’d feel him gently squeezing your hand as the two of you giggled away. “Don’t worry. I think it’s cute —you, you’re so cute.” he maneuvered his hand and intertwined his fingers with yours, palms pressed together and basking in the warmth it provided. 

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