#woah. thas a big step kids.........

[covey-o-quail]

thinking abt inej infodropping abt the development of fifth harbor and the crow club and how. 5th H is just Kaz Did This, This Is How It Went (presumably she was There For It). vs the crow club Kazdidthis,thisishowitwent Or So They Say. Im Not Sure. Can Never Really Know (presumably b4 inej joined the dregs). liiike rolls in my little mud puddle.

[remus-sanders-is-the-bestest]

Thomas has a lot to explain

Alternative title: what to do when your friends use a shrink ray on you but they’re imaginary and your other friends are on the way

Just a bit of context, I headcannon that Remus is incredibly smart, and will do stupid things with Logan, in the name of science.

Word count: 1572

Remus and Logan were thinking of scenarios that they could make happen with their shrink ray.

"What if we used it on Thomas? He's the only one who hasn't shrunk before, and I don't know whether it would work on a being that is not imaginary. We should try it. Forscienceofcourse" Logan finished hurriedly.

"Huh, never thought of that. I doubt that he'd agree to it though so..... surprise attack? We need to collect the data and we can't do that if we ask and he disagrees. We could do it right now to stop risk of being stopped by someone"

"That would work, however Joan and Talyn are on their way to Thomas's apartment soon, and if it works it would be incredibly inconvenient for Thomas to explain"

"Come on nerdy wolverine. The shrink ray works both ways, we can just turn him straight back. No need for worrying. Don't you want to have an experiment that involves Thomas?"

Logan sighed. He really did want to have an experiment that involved his host, and this was an easy way to do it without being stopped.

"Fine"

They picked up the shrink ray and sunk into Thomas's living room.

"Guys, what are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

"Science" Logan whispered, firing up the shrink ray.

"What's that? GUYS WHATS THA—" A bright flash of light cut him off, temporarily blinding him.

When he opened his eyes, it was to a vastly different point of view than before he was forced to close them. He turned to where Logan and Remus were stood together.

"What the fuck guys. What did you do? Joan and Talyn are about to be here, and you do this? Was this remus's idea?" It was then that he noticed Logan staring at something he was holding. The logical side looked up momentarily, face panicky

"It would appear that since we, and the shrink ray, originate from inside your mind, we have also shrunk. This would be fine if I hadn't of dropped the shrink ray when I felt my own size decrease. It seems to of suffered a greater fall than it would have if it stayed big. It is too damaged to change you back yet."

Thomas was growing nervous "can't you, like, summon another one?"

Remus, who had been uncharacteristically silent, spoke up. "There are limits to what we are able to do, Thomas. We had to make it from scratch. We could summon the materials, sure, but putting them together took days, almost weeks. We can try to fix it but it will take hours at least. I'm sorry" the thing that surprised Thomas the most was that Remus sounded genuine in his apology.

Before he could respond, Virgil showed up, sensing Thomas's rising anxiety levels. When he noticed the problem he stormed over to Remus and Logan. "Oh. My. Fucking. God. You two. I swear Logan, how can we class you as the smart one when you pull shit like this?! And don't try to blame it all on Remus, I'm sure that he had at least some part in it, but I know full well that you wanted to know if it would work on Thomas. Now you've gone and put Thomas in danger. He's not imaginary, he can die. In comparison to him at the moment, Joan and Talyn would be giants. What would have happened if the ray had a bad effect on Thomas and killed him? This is why you need to ask people before you do a dangerous experiment. Now Thomas is stuck like this until you can get it fixed and to top it all off, Joan and Talyn will be here any second."

As if on cue, the door opened. Thomas couldn't help but feel a deep instinctual fear of his friends. He knew that they wouldn't hurt him, but when you're faced with giants, you're gonna be scared aren't you? It didn't help that Virgil was muttering all the things that could go wrong. He ran under the couch.

He could just hide there until Logan fixed the thing. Unfortunately it seemed like Talyn noticed the movement out of the corner of their eye.

"I think something just went under the couch" fear coursed through his body, Virgil generating endless possibilities of what could happen, despite the fact that these seemingly giants were his friends and would never hurt him. Logan was trying to calm Virgil down, saying about how logically there was nothing to worry about, these were Thomas's friends and they would never purposely hurt him. Both Remus and Virgil pointed out that accidents happen all the time, and it wouldn't take much more than one wrong step for Thomas to die.

This (of course) did not help the mood. Nor did it help Thomas's racing heart when Talyn looked under the couch. He felt like his heart was going to explode it was beating that fast by the time that their eyes locked on his 3 inch form.

"What the..." they muttered, reaching out to grab him.

He ran. He ran as fast as his infinitesimally sized legs could carry him. It wasn't quick enough. Nowhere near in fact. He was soon being scooped up into hands that could crush him if they squeezed too tight. But he wasn't being squeezed at all, the hands just cupped around him. It was like being on a living cushion, and that thought unsettled him. Probably Remus's doing he noted, desperately trying to distract himself from the frankly terrifying situation at hand.

"Thomas?! What the- how?!"

He waved, weakly. "H-hi"

"What the fuck happened?"

"It's a long story, and honestly not that believable."

"Just tell me"

"Fine. Get Joan over here, I'm not explaining this twice, and you might leave out details"

The now colossal friend called over to their partner.

"JOAN! I FOUND THOMAS!"

He rubbed his ears, that was really fucking loud.

The mentioned human walked over. It seemed they didn't notice the shrunken man yet.

"Where is he?"

Talyn nodded towards their hands, where Thomas was sat. He waved again.

"How the fuck—"

"Thomas was just about to explain that if you'll let him"

"Well, I won't be explaining but the person explaining will be in my body, if that makes sense."

"It does not but go on"

"Before it happens, please don't be alarmed if he says things. There are a lot of things that he likes to say, but unfortunately he's the only one that knows exactly what happened that isn't fixing the shrink ray"

"Woah, woah, woah. Shrink ray?! How the fuck"

"If you'll let me give the guy my body, you'll find out" his eyes rolled back in his head, returning a blood red.

"Woah, having a body that can't be turned into slime or shapeshift is weird. Anyway so, me and my friends represent different aspects of Thomas's personality. Me being 'bad' creativity or intrusive thoughts. You may call me Remus or the duke, my brother Roman is 'good' creativity and the ego, my boyfriend Logan is logic, then there's Patton, he's morality, the heart, the feelings, the inner dad and the inner child. And last but not least, there's Janus and Virgil. Janus is the embodiment of deceit and all of the lies that Thomas tells and Virgil is the embodiment of anxiety. Me and Logan were messing with our shrink ray and we wanted to know whether it would work on Thomas because he was the only one that knew about us that wasn't imaginary. Oh yeah I forgot to mention the fact that we're all imaginary. So anyway we kinda surprise attacked him, which shrunk us as well because we're a part of him. It also shrunk the shrink ray which Logan dropped in surprise, causing it to break. And then you showed up after Virgil yelled at us a bit. Logan is off fixing the ray now.

"You know, the others have all had a turn possessing him but this is my first, because I 'would kill someone' and 'would get him arrested'. I mean I would, but it would be so cool. I think the thing he was most worried about was me hurting either of you. I do have a lot of plans for that, but I can't act them out when Thomas is this small, which is probably why he let me possess him instead of waiting for Logan to come back"

Joan and Talyn seemed to be processing the very startling news that Remus told them. After about a minute of silence, Remus announced that the shocked looks on their faces was indeed hilarious but he had to go.

When his eyes rolled back into his head, this time they returned to their normal chocolatey brown. "I'm really sorry that you had to meet him, but I guess we all know what happened now" Thomas apologised.

"Dude. I know I've already said this, and it's been explained but WHAT THE FUCK?!??"

(It was at that moment that Percy Jackson broke through the window, screaming "DID SOMEONE JUST SAY THE THREE WORDS THAT DESCRIBE MY LIFE?!" He then caught sight of Thomas and said "what the fuck". just kidding, that would almost be as unrealistic as 3 mil people watching someone talking to himself for 30-50 minutes. Oh wait)

And I guess that's the end? Probably.

[hanniiesuckle17]

Stray Kids Desc.: First Meeting

A/n: Not officially requested but I was checking comments and stuff on my works and you guys seem to want more of these! REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Bangchan (Son of Cinderella):

Chan was very hesitant when the VK's came to Auradon prep. They were very different from what he was used to. Chan was the class president and linebacker on the Tourney team. What could the VK's possibly have to offer? However, his mother always taught him to treat everyone with kindness. One night, Prince Chan got a noise complaint from a student about loud yelling and music and colored lights coming from the woods behind the school. The woods were perfectly safe and students often hung out there, but it was way past curfew. Chan, as the class president, was responsible for stopping it so he threw on a sweatshirt and trudged towards the noise.

He was shocked to see a bunch of VKs hanging out, blasting music and playing with colored smoke and sparklers. There was one girl dressed in dark purples and greens, eclectic jewelry piece dangling on almost all her limbs. An old and tattered top hat was angled over her messy and purple streaked hair. She had bags under her eyes but a mischievous smile brightened her face. Their eyes met and a smirk slid onto her painted lips. She slinked over to Chan through the blue smoke. He couldn't tell if he was nervous or intrigued. "What are you doing here, preppie?"

His words got stuck in his throat. "My name is Chan. I'm the class president and you are all out past curfew. You should go back before I report you all." She scoffed and the other kids laughed going back to their party. "Relax, Cinderboy." "Excuse me? Who do you think you are?" She smirked and pulled something from her pocket. Throwing it to the ground the two of them were enveloped in green thick smoke. He felt her fingers slowly come to grip his shoulder and heard her smooth voice in his other ear. "I'm the voodoo mistress of the night. I'm Y/n, Y/n Falicier." He turned his head to find her only inches away. She slipped a sparkler into his hand and lit it, never breaking eye contact.

"Nice to finally meet you, Prince Charming."

Minho (Son of Ezma):

Minho strolled through the woods, hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket. He basked in the solitude of finally ridding himself of Dowoon. Though the son of Kronk was easily three years older than him, he still followed Minho around just as his father did Minho’s mother. He was absolutely hopeless without his dim-witted father around. 

“Oh come on!” Minho turned sharply looking for the source of the sound. Moving through the trees he came upon the Enchanted Lake. Kneeling by the pool was a girl with her back turned to him. She held scissors against her H/c hair and was trying to saw through the long tresses that lay in piles around her.

“Never thought I’d see Rapunzel without her long hair,” Minho said with a smirk. She turned, shock painted on her face. Half of her hair was already sawn off on one side and hung just under her chin. “Well, that’s attractive.” The cold glare she threw his way sent a chill down his spine. Someone had yet to look at him with such malice since coming to Auradon. It thrilled him.

“Minho, right?” He nodded and came closer. “Listen, unless you have some sort of evil potion to fix this train wreck, buzz off.” He chuckled and plopped down next to you. “I can turn you into a flea?” “Ha. Ha. Ha.”

She tossed the scissors into the water and sighed. They sat in silence, staring out at the crystal clear water. “Here.” Minho pulled a jagged knife out of his shoe, a gift from his mother before his left. The only gift he ever got from his mother. She flinched away from him a little when he brought the blade to the side of her neck. She relaxed when his hand came under her hair and he sliced the rest off. The heavy locks fell into his hands and the girl smiled, a weight lifted off her shoulders. “Thanks.”

“I’m Y/n.”

Changbin (Son of Hercules):

Tourney practice just ended. Exhausted, Changbin headed back towards the school. A little pink and green bird flitted past him and flew onto one of the stone rails near the steps of the school. He had never seen that type of bird before. The bird chirped happily as Changbin continued his path. Up ahead he saw his little sister and Jeongin walking towards the stairs.

Just as he was about to call out to them, "BOO!" The couple screamed as the little bird magically transformed into a girl scaring the living daylights out them. She cackled and laughed at their faces. "Your faces! I didn't know Hercules had such a scaredy cat for a daughter." As she said cat, the girl morphed into a slinky pink and green feline.

"Awww did I scare your beau?" The cat's silky voice said as it jumped onto Jeongin's shoulder, making him flinch. "Hey, cut it out!" Changbin said making his way over to them. Grabbing the cat by the excess fur on the neck, he pried it off of Jeongin. "What the hell! Come on, I was just kidding around! Let me go you big bafoon!" The cat swung its claws at Changbin trying to scratch any open skin.

"Changbin, put her down. We are supposed to be welcoming the villain kids, remember?" His sister said putting a hand on his shoulder. "Yeah, Changbin. Put me down." The cat said in a mocking tone. With a reluctant and frustrated sigh Changbin dropped the fuschia cat and with a puff of pink smoke it morphed back into the girl. Her features were sharp and angled and her clothes hugged ever curve of her body like a glove. "Later losers." The wild girl said with a smirk. Her hair swayed behind her as Changbin watched her with a glare. "Who was that?"

"Oh her? That's Madam Mim's daughter, Y/n."

Hyunjin (Son of Mother Gothel):

Irene the Evil Queen's daughter hung off of Hyunjin's shoulder as he walked down the hall. Sure the girl was young and pretty, but she was boring. He put on a fake smile as she kissed his cheek before walking into an open classroom. The second her back was turned it dropped and Hyunjin walked stone faced through the corridor.

"Woah! Hey! Sorry! Coming through! Move out of the way, pretty boy!" Hyunjin pressed against the wall out of shock, but not before he was shoulder checked by the fast moving object. "Sorry!" A girl zoomed past on him bright red and blue roller skates. No one else found this weird and greeted the girl as if she was just passing bye. "Who the hell was that?" Felix said coming up by Hyunjin, who up until he spoke, hadn't realized he was staring at the back of the girl skating down the hall.

"You don't know Y/n?" A chirpy voice said behind the two boys. Beatrice, Snow White's daughter stopped having overheard Felix's comment. He scoffed and shrugged his shoulders. "No. Why would I?" A crash could be heard from down the hallway. A laugh bounced off the walls and carried all the way back to where they were standing. Not a moment later Y/n rounded the corner this time on a pogo stick. "She's the Genie's daughter. Never a dull moment when she's around." With a bright smile Beatrice left the two boys in tha hall. "Can you believe these people? God, Auradon is so weird." Felix exclaimed before going in the complete opposite direction of his next class.

"Well, at least she's not boring." Hyunjin said with a smirk, following his friend.

Jisung (Son of Prince John):

The Isle was a great place to grow up. If you had the right parents that is. Alliances were a crucial part of life on the Isle, and Jisung's father was about to make a new one. While Prince John went below the decks of the Jolly Roger he ordered his ten year old son to wait and find some way to entertain himself. The boy fiddled with a knife he found lying about and started carving into one of the railings.

"What are you doing to my ship?" A strong, but young voice said from above. He looked up to see a very pissed off girl hanging upside down from the rigging. She looked about his age. Gracefully she jumped down and landed in front of the boy. "It's not your ship." Jisung said sticking out his tongue. "It's my daddy's ship and what's his is mine and whatever else I want." She said holding up a leather bound journal.

Jisung frantically looked inside his jacket and pockets finding his notebook gone. "Hey give that back!" "No." The girl with wild hair and tattered clothing started playing keep away with the book. Eventually it morphed into a game of tag across the huge space the Jolly Roger had to offer. "Catch me if you can!" Jisung called out, climbing up one of the masts. The girl gleefully followed.

"Jisung! Get down from there!" An angry voice called. Immediately Jisung ran to his father's side, hoping to escape further punishment. The girl followed suit to stand next to the man with a hook and dressed in solid red. "Hook, control your daughter." The pirate sneered and looked down at his child. "Y/n, what have I told you about playing those little games!?" He scolded and a flash of silver flew across her face. A thin trail of blood dripped down her cheek, but the girl stood completely still. Jisung moved to defend his new friend but his father pulled him back, threatening a similar punishment. Reluctantly the two left and Jisung waved goodbye to the little girl who had a small but guarded smile on her lips.

Felix (Son of Queen of Hearts):

Felix had an impish grin as the several girls around hin laughed at something he had said. "And so I was like, 'No, off with your head.'" The girls giggled and a couple brushed their hands across his arm. Felix was used to this. He was over it. Sure he enjoyed the attention and he found it funny how quick the girls from Auradon started flinging themselves all over him, but they were all so boring compared to the girls on the Isle. At least at home there was always some small chance he might get stabbed on a date or his curtains set on fire. Some sort of excitement.

Felix was laying in bed, waiting for Han to get back from Tourney tryouts. The dorms were absolutely boring. It took all of Felix's will power not to toss himself out the three story window. Before he could, the window burst open blowing the white curtains into the air. In shock he fell off the bed and hit his head on the nightstand. Peeking over the bed with a glare he saw a girl crouched on his windowsill, hair blowing slightly in the breeze. She wore varying tones of green and brown and had bright eyes that shared and impish smile with her lips.

"Umm who do you think you are?" Felix snapped. Her head turned at the sound and she laughed which shocked the boy. "Nobody you should bother with." Felix stood and leaned against the bed post. "Well you are the one intruding in my domain." "Oooo domain. You sound like quite the villain." She laughed once more and hopped down from the sill walking around the room. "Maybe because I am one." "Oh. Cool." The girl continued to look around the room and examine random objects that seemed to pique her interest. "I'm sorry who are you again?" "Oh I'm Y/n."

Seungmin (Son of Mulan):

Seungmin was very against the introduction of Villain Kids into Auradon Prep. Coming from a strict household he found their lack of discipline and wild characteristics unbearable. He laughed with Woojin, one of the other boys in his History of Auradon class before the professor came in. Merlin entered the classroom and all the students' conversations stopped to focus their attention on their teacher. "We have a new addition to our class. Please welcome Y/n as you would any student. She is the daughter of the Chesire Cat." A girl with pastel streaks in her H/c hair slinked in the room. Seungmin noticed that everything about her was feline like. The glint in her eyes and the way she moved around the space.

She was calculating and scanned the room with a mischievous grin. Merlin pointed her to a free seat which so happened to be next to Seungmin. He scowled as she made her way to the other seat in the front row in the shared desk. "What's got you upset, kitty?" She asked with a smirk. She said in a soft smooth voice as Merlin started the lesson. Seungmin glared over at her, not dignifying her with a response. "Cat got your tongue?" She said dragging her fingers across his wrist. His glare shot back over to her. She smirked when he yanked his hand away from her touch. "What? You want me to disappear?" The girl faded from her seat and Seungmin tried to keep his eyes from going wide at the girl's disappearance. He shivered when he heard her smooth voice in his ear.

"I can see it all over the little warrior's face. Mommy and Daddy wouldn't like me sitting next to you either would they?" Seungmin turned to face forward and he couldn't help the little smirk on his face when Y/n reappeared obviously disappointed she didn't get a reaction. The smug expression fell as he looked over to see Y/n picking up a paper that Jeongin had dropped rushing to his seat. With a kind smile she handed it to the shy boy and sat back down. Seungmin was shocked to see a VK do any kind of good deed even as small as that. Was everything black and white like his parents said?

Jeongin (Son of Milo and Kida):

Jeongin sat alone at lunch once again. He surrounded himself in maps and artifacts sent my his father from his parents latest expedition. Every now and then he would look up across the courtyard to watch the group of kids playing a game instead of eating. His eyes fell onto a girl tossing back the ball to one of the boys he was tutoring, Chan. She smiled and pushed around a boy maybe a year older than her. They had somewhat similar features so Jeongin assumed they were siblings.

She was very pretty Jeongin thought. He watched her get excited throughout the game and get so passionate when someone failed to call out a foul. Jeongin smiled down at the map in his hands and returned to analyzing the parchment. His train of thought was interrupted by a ball slamming into the side of his head. He groaned in lain and clutched the area were the leather ball hit. "Oh my god! I am so sorry! Are you okay?" He looked up to see the girl from earlier. He was at a loss for words as she looked down at him with concern.

She reached out her hand to inspect his head and Jeongin froze. "Y/n? Is he okay?" Chan said coming over with the the girl's brother. "Oh, Jeongin!" Chan clapped the shy boy on the back as a greeting. "He should be fine. Jeongin has a big brain." The girl, Y/n, smiled and pulled her hand away. "Are you alone?" She asked looking at the empty table and books spread around him. He nodded hesistantly. "Well we need a referee if you want to join! My brother, Changbin, keeps cheating." She said shoving the boy with brown hair. They quickly got into a playful sibling fight and Chan pulled Jeongin up to join the game. Jeongin couldn't help but stare at the daughter of Hercules the rest of the game.

Requests are open!

Just send me an ask💗

Masterlist

[the-salty-asian]

Chapter Three | Inferno

A/n: In conclusion, I suck at fight scenes. I’d love for some feedback/tips on how to write one.

Warnings: Blood, fighting, stitches, language

Summary: There’s not only one but two big villains rampaging the city of Queens.

Word Count: 3.1k

Since his encounter with the man with metal wings, Peter’s crime fighting world had become a lot larger than helping old Dominican ladies and free churros. He had added extra hours to his patrol after Aunt May turned in for the night, only returning to sleep a few hours before school. Despite Mr. Stark’s scolding, Peter was ready to fill the big shoes that awaited him.

It was well into the night, yet the city of Queens was alive regardless of it being a school night. Peter stifled his fifth yawn since he had perched himself on top of an apartment building. He was starting to regret not grabbing a coffee before slipping out his bedroom window. Below him, a firetruck washed the street in red and white light, sirens blaring. Two more followed in its wake. Peter nearly fell off the building’s ledge in excitement.

“Oh shit, oh shit!”

As if on instinct, he shot a web at the street light below and swung to stick the landing on top of the truck’s ladder. The wind pushed against his mask as the truck sped down the busy streets of Queens toward whatever danger there was.

When the fire engine screeched to a halt, Peter gasped at the scene before him. The lower levels of NYPD’s Precinct 103 spilled an orange glow onto the sidewalk surrounding it. Officers and scientists alike were pouring out of the entryways with the thick, black smoke. The firemen went to work dousing the flames with their hoses but it would’ve been hours before the fire would die out. Peter hopped off the truck and ran to get a better look of the upper windows of the building.

Somewhere amidst the crowd an officer cried out, “It’s Spider-Man!”

“Don’t worry I got you guys!”

Peter tied a web from two of the light posts to a safe patch of sidewalk just below the open windows. He tested it with his foot to make sure it would hold for the people on the fourth floor.

He got the attention of a nearby firefighter, “Have them jump down on this!” Every second the firemen prolonged raising the ladder, was another second adding to the collapse of the building.

With that, he rushed head first into the front entrance and was immediately met with a wall of heat. The first floor had almost emptied out save for the few officers Peter helped direct out. When he looked back to double check the building, a shadow caught his eye. Among the flames stood a tall, dark figure. They remained unmoving as the flames licked up the walls around them. Above, the ceiling groaned under the weight of the other three floors. Peter shot a few webs at the support beams in hopes to stabilize it.

“Hey man I gotta get you outta here! It’s not safe!”

The figure turned to reveal cold, unforgiving eyes peeking through a black hood. He outstretched his arm flashing a gadget that was set into his palm. It started to spew fire as he waved his hand over Peter’s general direction. The flames barely grazed Peter as he flipped to put distance between him and the unnamed man, “Woah watch it, buddy!”

He fired his web shooter back in response, the webbing winding itself around the man’s raised hand. His weapon glowed white hot as it burned straight through the webbing. Peter dodged the second round of flames and landed on top of a desk. A small flame had started on his shoulder that he frantically patted away. The eyes of his suit focused on a duffel bag the man gripped in his right hand.

“I don’t think that belongs to you man!”

He shot a web at the bag and yanked it from the man’s grasp. It flew towards him, slamming into his chest with a thud. The temperature around Peter seemed to burn ten degrees higher with the villain’s steel grey eyes glaring at him. He started to step towards him with a slow menacing pace as if he were about to pounce on his prey.

Peter fired a web at him, “Hey man, stay back!”

Another round of flames spewed from his palm and singed the web in mid air. He crossed the distance between them, unbothered by the flames. Before Peter could process, the man had a hand wrapped around his neck and pushed him against the support beam. The metal seared his back causing a cry to involuntarily rip out of his throat. It only spurred the man on, tightening his grip around the boy’s throat. Gasps and sputters fell from his lips as the hooded figure’s steely eyes seemed to look right through the Spiderman mask. Peter’s mind raced with solutions while he was starting to see spots. Weakly he raised his web shooter at his side. The web shot over the man’s shoulder, attaching itself to a work desk. He tugged hard on the web forcing the desk to fly towards them. It slammed into the man’s lower back. His hand released Peter’s neck with a scream of pain. The boy slid down the beam, gulping the smoke tainted air as if it were water. However, there wasn’t much time for him to catch his breath. The hooded man was on his feet in seconds, a new type of rage blazing in his eyes. Peter followed in suit, careful not to catch his new suit on fire.

“You think you’re so slick, kid!?”he snarled. “I’ll show you slick.”

The first punch he threw, Peter was able to dodge quickly but the second one connected right above his eye. Another landed in his side. He desperately jabbed his fist at any body part he could reach. It connected with the man’s stomach causing a grunt to rumble low in his chest. A swell of pride warmed his chest and he smirked beneath his mask. Adrenaline was roaring through his ears as he continued to dodge a couple more throws. They fell into a rhythm of near misses and a few punches here and there. It seemed as though the man was only absorbing the energy waiting for his time to strike. When he discovered Peter’s slip up, his fist attacked his diaphragm. All of the air escaped Peter’s lungs leaving him stunned while the man showed no mercy.His head grew dizzy with pain and fumes as punch after punch found his body. The man’s fist caught Peter’s jaw and he crumpled on the spot. A malicious laugh escaped the lips of his opponent as he struggled to stand. The hooded man wouldn’t have it, he pulled his leg back and aimed right for Peter’s middle. His steel-toed boot connected over and over with Peter’s side. The boy did his best to shield his ribs with his arms knowing there was no possible way for him to get up. When he was satisfied, the man picked up the long forgotten duffel bag and disappeared into the flames.

The familiar, coppery taste of blood had filled Peter’s mouth. It pooled on his tongue and dribbled down his chin as he laid in the fiery wreckage of the precinct. Overhead, the ceiling rumbled, threatening to come down on top of him. His mind willed him to roll onto all fours followed by the creaking and shifting of the floor above him. Peter staggered to his feet and moved just before a chunk of the ceiling crashed down in the spot he had just been in. With the remaining fumes he had, he crashed through the nearest window, his body falling limply onto the pavement. The October night air soothed his aching lungs and chilled the sweat sticking to his suit. Peter brought two shaky fingers to the fabric covering his eyebrow. It was soaked in blood. A throbbing sensation radiated across his face as blood mixed with sweat. The hooded man in black was nowhere to be seen.

Weakly, Peter lifted his web shooter to aim at the nearest building. His muscles screamed at him in protest as he gripped the web for dear life. The pain in his side was growing more unbearable as the adrenaline dwindled away. He wasn’t going to be able to fix this on his own.

While her father was out, wreaking havoc, y/n had bigger fish to fry: like cramming for her calculus test. In the background, a dolled up news lady rambled on about a fire at Precinct 103. Her concentration was soon broken as the window leading to the fire escape flew open and a large duffel bag landed on the living room carpet with a thud. Y/n watched as he clambered through the window after the bag. The delirious grin on his usually grim face made her body tense. She played it off quickly with the turn of a page in her textbook. Out of the corner of her eye, her father stood with his arms crossed expectantly.

“Good day at the office?”

“A fantastic day!” He shoved the bag into her face, the stale scent of money wrinkled her nose. “Look at all of that eh? Say, what do you want for dinner? I’ll buy you whatever you want!”

“I already ate.”she snipped at him.

“Oh come on, sweetheart! Things are starting to look up! I gave it to tha kid pretty good too! He’ll be laid up for a few days I presume.”

Beside her, her phone went off. Y/n’s stomach dropped as her eyes danced over the text.

Peter:

EMERGENCY COME OVER NOW!!

Donovan’s neck stretched to read her text, “Who’s that?”

Instinctively, y/n clutched the screen to her chest. Her mind raced as she quickly thought of a lie that could save her.

“It’s just Liz, she wanted to know if I’d meet her for a coffee.”

He cocked his head to the side, eyes grilling her for the truth. She bit her lip. He only needed to buy it for an hour.

“Vulture’s little girl? I thought you hated her?”

“Well we were able to set aside our differences. Villain’s daughters gotta stick together!.”

Y/n could see him turning the thought over in his head, “I guess it’s ok, as long as you-“

“Bring my knife? Done,”she pulled a smile. “I’ll be home later.”

Donovan’s eyes never left her as she grabbed her knife off the counter and made a gesture of shoving it into her bag. She was out the door before he could change his mind. Across the hall, y/n quietly tested her knuckles on Peter’s door. Within seconds the door was flung open to reveal Peter, eyes brimming with pain and pale with fear.

“Peter!? What happened!?”she feigned a gasp.

Her father’s handy work had stained Peter’s face black and blue, a yellow tint creeped up the side of his neck. Y/n winced at the thought of what damage was hidden underneath his shirt. She also knew what her father was capable of.

“I um- fell down the stairs.”he faked a breathy laugh that was followed with a wince.

“Those are some wicked steps, Parker..”she took his hand in hers and led him towards the bathroom. “Let’s get you all fixed up.”

Y/n settled him on the lid of the toilet, her eyes still drinking in the cuts and bruises that littered his skin. Peter’s eyes had glassed over and she could tell that every breath was a stab in his side, probably some broken ribs.

She tugged at the hem of his shirt, “Can you?”

Peter’s head nodded slowly but the pain in his eyes told her a different story. Y/n felt her heart squeeze in sympathy but she quickly pushed it away, this was her father’s masterpiece, and here she was ruining it. With her help, he gingerly lifted the piece of fabric over his head despite his muscles protests.

A genuine gasp escaped her lips as her eyes roamed the exposed skin. Peter’s torso was stained deep purple and yellow. Her fingers hovered slightly over his chiseled abdomen where it seemed to be the worst. For one thing, Donovan Sinclair loved to kick.

“First aid kit?”

Not a word left his mouth as he limply pointed to the cabinet below the sink. Y/n crouched level with the cabinet’s contents, using its door to steady herself. It didn’t surprise her in the slightest that everything had its own place. In no time she had carefully pulled out the plastic box onto the counter and littered its surface with medical supplies. Peter watched her dig through medical supplies while sucking in long painful breaths.

“This is gonna sting.”

Peter pressed his lips together and nodded for her to continue. Y/n cupped his uncut cheek with her palm and felt the boy lean into her touch. She pressed the cotton hard onto the weeping cut on his cheek. Her eyes fell to his knuckles that had turned white in the places that weren’t weeping red.

“Is your aunt home?”

“No,”he winced as she cleaned the cut above his eye. “She went out with some friends tonight.”

Her fingers grazed the wound earning a sharp breath from Peter. It took a lot of control for her lip not to curl up into a smirk. The feeling shortly died as she surveyed the cut that was stretched slightly by her fingers. Peter’s hand shot up and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. Fear blossomed in her chest at the tight grip that ached around his touch.

“Ow! Can you stop that?”

“Sorry! That’s going to need stitches, Pete. I can take you to the hospital if you-.”

“No,no, no! Y/n, I can’t go to a hospital! May will kill me!”

“Alright, alright calm down. I’ll do them.”

Peter’s eyes widened, “Do you know how to do stitches?”

“Do you want them done yes or no?”

A small noise escaped the back of Peter’s throat. He looked up at y/n through unshed tears and nodded. She balled up a washcloth and handed it to him, “Here, you might need this.” Peter balled up the fabric in his hand and shoved it between his teeth as she watched. “Here goes nothing.”

The second y/n inserted the needle through the skin, her stomach dropped. Her eyes flicked down to Peter who had his eyes screwed shut.

“I need you to relax, Pete.”

“It’s kinda hard when you have a needle in your face.”

She smoothed her hand down to his cheek, “Hey look at me,” Y/n waited until his soft eyes met hers. “I don’t know what actually happened, but whatever it was, you braved the hardest part. This is just.. cleanup duty?”

She forced her lips into the most Oscar Award winning smile she could muster. Just another thread of lies to be woven into her web. This fight was far from over.

Y/n’s reassuring words seemed to push some ease into Peter as she completed a third and fourth stitch. After every loop, she mumbled a hollow yet encouraging phrase. By the time she tied off the thread, Peter’s eyes were laden with sleep.

“Alright I’m gonna get you to bed. Can you stand?” She took Peter’s hand and guided it around her shoulder but he weakly brushed her off. She stepped away from him, eyes narrowed and hands on her hips. His courage was starting to annoy her.

“No, no I’m good.”

Peter placed a shaky hand on the bathroom counter. He scraped together whatever leftover strength he had to push himself up and take a few steps on the tile. However, it wasn’t enough. After three steps his knees collapsed and he braced himself for the floor. It never came. Instead, Y/n had ducked under his arm and her arm wrapped around his torso. A grunt escaped her lips from Peter’s weight. She should’ve just let him fall.

“Yea you’re good alright Parker.”

The trudge to Peter’s room seemed to take hours for only a few feet. His rugged, hot breath on her ear only furthered the ever growing annoyance boiling in her chest. Out of all the people he could’ve asked he just HAD to ask her. Y/n steadied Peter with one hand while the other peeled back the blanket on the bottom bunk. He fell unceremoniously onto it with a sigh followed by a wince of pain. A soft “thank you” fell from his lips.

“It’s nothing really,”she turned to leave. “Have a goodnight, Pete.”

Once again his hand caught her wrist and she felt the same panic arise as she looked down at him. His brown eyes shone with the ghost of tears. They asked the question before he could whisper it to her.

“Will you stay?”

Y/n’s stomach had been thrown off the apartment building. Not can but, will. He didn’t want a bullshit excuse of “it’s getting late”. Peter wanted to know if she cared enough to stay. Not in a million years could she say yes. If her father knew where she was he’d give her a makeover just like the boy in the bed before her. But this is what Donovan Sinclair ordered and so he shall receive. She needed Peter Parker to fall in love with her.

Y/n perched herself on the edge of his bed, “Y-yea of course.”

Peter’s eyes fluttered shut and his shallow breaths filled the room. Y/n ran her fingers through his soft curls. Peter was a teenager, just like her, and yet he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. While most kids stressed over the SATs, he was out getting his ass kicked by guys like her father and Vulture. He certainly didn’t deserve the life that she was living. He could have a real girlfriend, do all the stupid, nerdy things he enjoyed, and be as normal as Peter Parker could be. Hell, any girl that dated Peter would be treated like a princess.

At the thought of that, the urge to stab herself flooded her body. It had to have just been the pity talking. Anger and guilt mixed inside her like an explosive chemistry experiment. Her eyes glared at Peter’s sleeping figure before she quietly scooted off the mattress. Peter Parker was the first step to revenge. For her mother and sister’s sake, she couldn’t get caught up in her own web.

Taglist: @rebekamckenzie @moistpotatobear @blossomreed @pluckypete @nadiawhite03

[finalcreacher]

Chapter One - That Summer, And Many More

It was that summer that Richie confessed, and time froze for me, and we spent the day together talking and holding hands. And that one where the clown came, and the one the year after- where Beverly left. Worst of all, not when IT came back- but 1992. The day they left.

A series of vignettes of Loser's club member, Y/n L/n, and all the summers that went right, that went wrong, and went the worst.

T/W - Homophobic Slurs (Enter At Your Own Risk)

13 years old

It was 1987, and we had just gotten out of school. Already the heat of the sun souring my mood. I must have been twelve, maybe thirteen? It was the least of my worries how old I was- Richie was late today. He and I had made a commitment to meet just outside of school every day of the working week. Often times, he'd be a few minutes late, not a whopping twenty minutes. This had me worried. I had a large, silver watch from my father; he thought it was essential to keep track of the time. With Richie, the hour hand never moved before he got there. Imagine how frantic I was, my heart beating quick, quick, quick! It was dizzying how many times I looked back and forth. Finally, I had had enough. It was back into the school for me.

We also made a promise not to go back into the school, in fear of the Bowers gang. I figured it was dire enough a situation to go back and check. It would be easy enough to avoid those meaner big kids unless they were with Richie(which you hoped he wouldn't be stuck with them, he was smart enough to avoid them, I thought), or they had moved from their usual stalking ground. To my great horror, it was not the latter. When I turned the corner, I was face to face with a leering Henry Bowers. We were so close, I could see every inch of dirt and grime on his face- it nearly made me gag(I didn't, that would have sent me to an early grave).

"Is this fag yours? Lose him on your way here?" Henry taunts, giving me an open grin with lots of teeth. It was then I noticed Richie, cowering between the bully's other friends. I chose not to say anything, as to not aggravate Bowers- it was clearly the wrong choice.

He grabbed me by the tuft of my hair, yanking me down. "Ow!" I seethe, "Let go a' me!"

There wasn't much for him to grab onto, my hair was short. Too short for what was coming to me. Really, it's Richie's fault. He had stuck gum in my hair, he chewed it really loud all of class time, then slapped it on as we were leaving. He thought it was hilarious, as did I before my mother saw. She made me wear a hat to school because she was so embarrassed.

"What you gonna do, ya' little dyke? Tryin'a rescue this fucking animal? He's filthy."

This is where the Richie in me came out, he says a lot of things he shouldn't. "You got that wrong, your absolutely stinking! Maybe you should take a bath."

Remember, he's still got a fist clenched around my hair, practically holding me by the neck. He pulls it- real hard- and I nearly screamed. "Yer' gonna 'pologize, or have to face that mangy mutt." He turns my head to face this tall, skinny boy, his black hair in tangles. He's smiling, something big and mischievous. "Eee-tha deal with me, or whateva he's got. What's it gonna be?"

Then he removes his hand from my neck and yanks my wrist up, my watch wrist! "Ooh, this yours?" I whimpered, a noise I didn't want to come out. What I wanted was to disappear into the background. I still needed to get my ass and Richie's, out of this mess, though. "Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick..." he mimicked a clock sound, tapped my watch, and waited for an answer.

I didn't know what to say, he was going to do something terrible to my watch, and my father was gonna kill me for that! But the way Patrick looked at me, made my skin crawl. Every time I looked at my second option, Richie would shake his head, very adamantly, no. No, no, no. Suppose what my father had in store for me, would be less than that creepy asshole. "F-fine! You can have it! Just leave Rich alone!"

Bowers' grin practically widens, and focuses his attention on the watch, fumbles with it, and then slides it off easy. "I'm gonna break it!" He announced. My face, to anyone else, would look pure white, like a ghost. He couldn't really...could he?

"I can twist it," he fakes twisting it, "or I could stomp it against my foot!" He throws the watch down, playing around like he's about to step on it, but he doesn't. A teacher, rushing out from one of her later classes(detention, probably, or a club), and had stopped mid-step to stare at us. She looked appalled at the scene before her.

"What's going on here? Bowers, Hockstter, Huggins, and Criss, I think I made it very clear to you boys that you would be serving your detention in my class today, it was disappointing not to see you there." Oh, so it was detention. "You boys, especially you, Bowers, should be attending summer school. Now, run along, leave these poor kids alone."

I looked back at Bowers, his face flushed bright red. "Come on, these kids ain't worth our time." With that, he was gone.

"If these boys ever give you trouble again, I'm just down the hall."

"He-he had me by the scruff of my neck!"

"Well, I'll see to it that they get to detention next time, sound alright?" She pays no mind to the assault- but Richie and I nodded in agreement nonetheless. Of course, she wouldn't, she was just as scared of the Bowers as all the little kids running around were. She continued on, making her way out of school- as we should have done nearly half an hour ago. We both let out a sigh of relief when we were finally alone.

"Gee, Rich, how'd you get into this trouble?" I smile, kneeling down to pick up my watch, there was only a scratch or two, father wouldn't be too mad- as long as he didn't stare at it too close. I figured as long as it works, it should be fine. I place it back on my wrist. "It's nearly time to meet Eddie an' everyone else!"

"Oh, we'll catch up just fine. I finally got my bike fixed, after last time, and it's faster than ever!"

"Woah! Really? I forgot my bike at home today, my mother claimed I'd get a stroke riding out in this weather. She made me leave it."

"Well, I have room on my bike for another person..." he fidgets with his thumbs, looking outright abashed(a look no one ever- really- saw on him).

"I don't know, Rich. Might be dangerous." I pipe up- while he leans over, and checks the time.

"Only if you want to get there on time," I look down again. Christ, we were going to be late- again!

"Sure, but you're going in back!" I tease, running down the halls.

"Oh no, you aren't! That's my bike!" He chased after me.

"Last one there sits in back!" I hollered.

[demonsofhunting]

"Stay With Me" ( Destiel One Shot )

Summary: Dean struggles with the mark of Cain. He wants to leave. Cas is there for him, and shows him how much he's loved. ( or from "a solid amount of pain" to "fluffy fluffy" in one fic :D )

Warnings: language, angst, pain, dark/depressive thoughts (I mean, it's Dean...), hurt/comfort, fluff

Words: about 2000

A/N: Tadaaaa! There you go. This one is a bit longer than the last. I tried my best, and it was really interesting to write.♡ I love the mark of cain storyline, but in this fic it's just mentioned, so you can read it without knowing season 9/10, too.

I hope you'll like it! Enjoy! <3

"Dean. Calm down. You need to stop. We can fix this!" Sam says.

"No, we can't! I - I need to go," Dean cries out, his voice rough and full of pain. They're in the bunker, it must be around midnight. The lights are not as bright as they are during the day. Sometimes, they flicker because of the heavy unweather outside. Raindrops are falling down loudly, and the wind howls.

Inside, the air is filled with anger and fear. Dean is standing in the middle of the hall, ready to leave. Sam and Cas are blocking his way. He looks at them, fury in his eyes.

"Dean -"

"Shut up, Cas!" he growls and steps back. The angel winces, and Dean immediately feels the regret for his harsh words. His anger fades, and the look in his green eyes softens. He takes another step back, tugging his bag on the ground, slowly: "I'm...I'm sorry, Cas. I didn't mean to -"

The angel shakes his head, fastly.

"It's alright. The mark, I know that it affects you, Dean. You don't need to hide your feelings from us. From me. Please, don't push us away," Cas says, and he does that with so much desperation that Dean feels like somebody has stepped on his heart.

He's suffering because of me. Sam too. I'm such a burden.

The younger Winchester just stands there, nodding and glaring at Cas, carefully. Dean sighs.

Even this small movement hurts.

Everything hurts.

It was only a couple of weeks ago, since he has got the mark of Cain, and he already feels like he can't fight it much longer. It's like a constant, creepy whispering that crawls through his brain, ready to make him do terrible things.

Things he is definitely capable of doing.

And it scares the shit out of him.

The nightmares, the bad thoughts and visions, they're killing him slowly.

And there's no going back.

I can't escape. We're all going to die because of me.

Dean can feel tears coming up, but he fights hard to hold them back. He won't cry in front of his family, he won't allow himself such a breakdown. The hunter always fears that if tears start to come out, they're never going to stop streaming down his cheeks. Maybe they won't.

I'm such a weak piece of shit.

It's best if he takes some time off.

"Please," his voice breaks, "Let me go."

Cas crosses his arms, his face full of determination: "No."

"No," Sam adds.

That's it.

No.

NO?!

Dean can't help, and an ironic laughter bursts out of his lungs: "Really? You must be kidding me!" He throws his arms in the air, his tongue running over his bottom lip, uncomfortably.

"No, we're not," Sam tells him. He shakes his head and takes a step forth, "We're family, and since you're acting like a big suicidal idiot, we won't let you go alone. Anywhere."

Cas nods: "Exactly."

Dean growls. He balls his fists and can feel the mark pulsing. It's hungry.

I'll need something to kill soon. Someone.

Shit.

"Fine," he shrugs, "If you can't live without me, guys, I'll stay." Then he grabs his stuff, turns around and makes his way back to his room while Cas and Sam are staring at him.

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

Of course, Dean doesn't want to stay for real. If that means, that Cas and Sam will be safe, he's willing to do everything he can - before the mark finally manages to break him. And for now, this means to bring some distance between him and the others.

They will be safer without me.

The moment Sam finally turns the lights off and goes the fuck to sleep, Dean grabs his bag again and makes his way to the heavy door of the bunker. No one tries to stop him this time, and it almost seems a little too easy to be real, as he finally makes the first step out this prison of his.

The cold, deep air punches him in the face, and he breathes heavily as he makes his way to the Impala which is parked nearby.

"Hey, beautiful," he mutters, carefully, "Let's go on a ride." He makes his way inside and closes the door behind him. His heart hurts like hell, it's so damn difficult to let them go.

You can't stay and ruin their life. Drive. Now.

And he does.

Baby's purr helps a little to deal with all the different feelings that are raging inside him, but he already knows that things will probably only get worse.

"Fuck!" he screams in desperation.

Suddenly, tears are streaming down his cheeks, the air filled with his sobbing.

That's what I do. I let down the people I love.

His sight is going blurry, and Dean blinks to banish the pain again.

C'mon! Don't be a baby!

"I'm fucking trying to -"

He hits his hands on the steering wheel while driving. One time. Two times.

He hits it hard, until the pain in his fists finally manages to distract him a little. Rain is falling against the windows like it's never going to stop.

Dean tries to sing along to one of his favourite Led Zeppelin Songs, but he screws up - even more than usual.

The highways are dark and empty. He feels so lonely. Just as lonely as he felt when his dad left him alone back then in his twenties. His chest aches, it's like his body forgot how to breathe.

"Son of a bitch!"

That's enough. He stops the car on the side of the road and comes out of it.

Then he breaks down, falls to the ground.

The tears are flowing, his whole body is shaking, and he cries out, his hands buried in his hair. The cold wind blows over him, tugging on his clothes. Rain pours over him like it wants to drown him. The icy water makes Dean feel numb, and he just gives in, lets it all go. He just lies there in the mud, face towards the sky, rain running over his body.

In this moment, all he wants is to die.

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

When Dean wakes up the next morning, he lies in his own bed. His throat hurts, and he moans.

What the fuck?!

He can't remember how the hell he got here. There's a fluffy blanket wrapped around him, carefully, and a cup of tea near his head on his nightstand.

That's...disgusting.

Someone took off his shoes and put them next to the bed. The door to the floor is closed, but Dean can hear two voices whispering behind the wood.

He sights. Of course, they found him.

Suddenly, somebody knocks on the door. Even without seeing the person Dean just knows who it is. "No! " he rasps, his hands reaching for a pillow, fastly. When Cas enters the room, he covers his face with it.

"Hello, Dean," the angel says and sits next to him. After a moment of awkward silence, he asks, worried: "Dean, are you alright?"

"No, I'm everything else but that," the hunter growls underneath the pillow.

"Okay, but why do you hide your face?"

It seems like Cas' confusion is back at it again.

" 'Cause I want to!"

"This is not an answer, Dean. I need to take your temperature. Maybe you're having fever," Cas continues, one hand slowly resting on Dean's stomage, while the other one is reaching -

"Okay, fine!" Dean growls and throws the pillow across the room. He frowns at the blue - eyed angel, "See? I'm okay. No need to be creepy."

"Thank you, that's all I wanted" Cas smiles.

"Mmph."

"Dean...?" Cas begins, carefully.

"What?"

"What...What were you doing out there?" he asks, and there's so much pain in his eyes that Dean immendiately wants to smite himself.

He blinks, looking everywhere but not to Cas. "Nothing," he says, " I was just taking a break from driving, that's all."

"I don't believe you," the angel determines.

"And?!"

Suddenly, Cas leans over Dean and starts to kiss him. Dean gasps, surprised. But then he starts to kiss Cas back, his hands playing with the angel's dark, messy hair. He tastes like home, and Dean completely loses himself in his presence.

Damn.

It's not like Dean never thought about kissing his angel, but he hasn't done it yet. Every time he thought about making the first step there was the fear of Cas leaving him, or even worse - that something bad could happen to his love.

But in that moment all the worries are gone. There are only a hunter and an angel, being close, really close to each other. And it feels wonderful, magical.

I want this.

Cas pulls him closer, his hands running down Dean's waist.

Holy fuck.

Then he stops and retires. He looks at the green - eyed hunter, his cheeks turning as red as Dean's favourite cherry pie.

Dean feels like there are a thousand of butterflies trapped in his chest, and he breathes heavily.

"Woah," is all he manages to say, he doesn't even try to hide his excitement.

"Guys, I just wanted to -," a familiar voice comes from the door frame, but stops immendiately. Sam's mouth falls open, then he laughs, nervously, his hand running through his locks. "You know what, nevermind," he rasps and disappears, pulling the door shut behind him.

Awkward silence. Dean clears his throat.

"Uhm, what were you saying again?" he asks Cas, slightly biting his bottom lip.

Cas smiles, his cheeks turning even redder. "I - I...," he shakes his head, softly, his eyes wide and honest, "I knew you would sneak out...I knew it! Sam too. We wanted to lock the door, but he said, that this probably won't hold you back, so..."

"You - You followed me?"

Dean can't believe what he just heard.

What the -

"I did. I just wanted to -," he shivers, "Dean, I promised you, that I would watch over you, no matter what. I couldn't let you go! I lost you on the way, because of the bad weather, and when I found you I thought that...I thought you were dead."

He sniffs, his hand reaching out for Dean's, then stopping halfway through it. The hunter grabs it, softly. "I wasn't," he mutters.

"But you could have been," Cas says, his voice filled with pain, "I could never forgive me that. Never."

Dean swallows, his gaze searching for Cas'. "I'm alive. Yeah, I'm alive, maybe just because of you," he whispers. Then he chuckles: "Wow, I'm such an idiot."

"Yes, you are," Cas confirms.

Dean nods, slowly. "An idiot you're in love with, right?" he asks straight out. He bites his bottom lip, and can't hide his smile, as Cas' head flows up.

"Dean, I -"

He simply puts his hand over the other's mouth. "Don't. I don't wanna hear it," he tells the angel, while he just can't stop grinning.

"Dean!" mumbles Cas and shakes his head. Dean chuckles, then he just says it: "I think I'm in love with you too, Cas."

He takes his hand away, still smiling. Cas looks pretty confused at first, then he realises, and his face lightens up.

"Are...are you sure?" he blurts out.

"I am. All I want is for you and Sammy to be safe. That's the only reason why I tried to get away from you, Cas. 'Cause I love you way too much to lose you too."

The smile already fades again. His sight is getting blurry, and he blinks the upcoming tears away, hastily.

Don't cry again. Not now.

"Oh, Dean," Cas sights, and hugs him. After that, he kisses him gently on the top of the head, "You're so stupid."

"I know," Dean mutters, and closes his eyes, "Love it when you do that, though." He pats on his head where Cas lips have touched him.

"I hope so. And if you promise me to stay with us and help us to kick it in the ass - together -, I'll do more than just that."

Dean smirks, warmth filling his chest. And for a heartbeat, it all seems like the mountains of problems in his life can be solved one day. Like he still has a chance to win against the darkness that is already eating on him.

In that moment he wants nothing more than to believe that, while being with his family, working on a solution together.

Maybe there's still hope.

As an answer, he grabs Cas by the shoulders and pulls him into another long and passionate kiss.

"I promise," he whispers.

Cas smiles and kisses him again.

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

Aaaaand that's it! Thank you so much for reading and if you would like to leave a comment or reblog this shit I will love you forever! <3

Have another kiss from Misha!

Just like last time: feel free to tell me if you found mistakes, too. I know that this is far from perfect. :D

Tagging those who actually signed up for this mess ( including some new, brave volunteers ) @adoptdontshoppets @thedemoniccow @ablavalba @smodernlife @ignis-glaciesque @certaindeanwinchesterforcastiel @xsghn thank u❤

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

Bond Between People & Pokemon The Finale

Upon arriving at the battlefield Ganon had ordered all his forces to attack Kirby at once no matter what the cost.

Ganondorf: You must kill Kirby!

Villains: Alright!

All the villains ran past the heroes, each just standing awaiting the carnage that would soon arrive.

Samus, waving: Good luck, idiots!

Ganondorf: It is he who will need luck for he can’t possibly take on millions of soldiers at on-

Dark Link, flew by through the air. Landing on top of him followed Nightmare.

Dark Link: Ouch! Get off me! (Pushes Nightmare away) Why are we even trying!? (Running away) See ya once this has all cooled down boss!

Ganondorf: What!? Get back here and fight cowards!

Sephiroth: Worry not Ganondorf, you shall be rid of this pest, as I don’t plan on being bested by a marshmallow. Unlike these worthless soldiers.

Chara: Yeah Uncle Sephiroth will show him what’s what.

Bonny, Dedede & Incineroar had just arrived to where the battle was taking place - an injured Incineroar atop Dedede’s back.

Doomguy: Is that? Bonny!? My sweet bonbon has come back and not a scratch on her.

Bonny Janet: But Incineroar…Not so much.

Doomguy: Oh no…Don’t worry good ol’ three fingers (Points at Mewtwo) will take him back to the mansion to Dr. Mario. We’’ll see what he can do. But in the meantime-

King Dedede: Kick their asses Kirby!

Sephiroth: Can it traitor! Your little “hero” dies here! No more shall you pests interfere with our plans!

Bonny Janet: Go ta hell! Yer half pint, wee willy, prissy haired sissy!

Sephiroth self-consciously ran his fingers through his hair, then thrust his sword towards Kirby. Kirby turned and stared Sephiroth dead in his eyes, before grabbing the sword an inch away from his face. He smiled at Sephiroth then threw him through the crowd of villains so fast he set on fire, crashing through a few boulders on the way.

Sephiroth: Argh! *cough cough* How…Is that possible. (Faints)

King Dedede: It’s called being god and tons of friendship b-

Meta Knight: BITCH!

King Dedede: …How dare you steal that from me…

The villains stood in silence for a while.

Random Enemy: … … …RETREAT!

Ganondorf: WHAT!? NO! GET BACK HERE AND FIGHT!

Hades: Sorry bro, but we gotta get outta here. We can save your Ultimate Weapons or whatever for another time.

Ganondorf: You! You’re… … …No. No! NO! YOU’RE WRONG! I CAN BEAT HIM! YOU WORTHLESS PAWNS ARE JUST TOO WEAK! Sometimes you’ve just gotta do things yourself…

Ganondorf now fueled with hatred and malice transformed into his Demon King form, and stared Kirby down with his emerald, green eyes. Kirby in respondents stared back not flinching at all. Commence JoJo music.

Ganondorf: Let’s see you best the hands of a god!

Heroes & Villains: … … …Does he think being a God can save him?

King Dedede: That’s funny Ganon, we’d love to see you deal with Dark Matter every single day!

Ganon began charging towards Kirby with malicous intent.

Kirby, stepping forward: Poyo. (“Aw shit, here we go again”).

Kirby & Ganon collided in the air, sparks literally flying. Kirby then moved to Ganon’s stomach and started pelting a load of punches at him, pushing him back a little.

Ganondorf: COME ON! I KNOW THAT’S NOT ALL YOU HAVE TO OFFER!

Ganondorf then grabbed Kirby and dragged him around violently through the air, before hitting him away with his sword. Kirby recovering quickly then rushed over to Ganon pulled on his tounge and then slammed his own teeth on it cutting it off. Making Ganon completely speechless.

Samus & Link, leaning back: Damn!

Doomguy: Now I’ve done alot of gruesome things in my day…But that!…That was nasty.

A now immobilized Ganon fell to the floor to recollect himself. Kirby, however, had other plans. He made his way to Ganon’s tail. He picked him up by it and then began to swing him round in circles. (Keep in mind he’s 8 inches tall, and Ganon is now 23 inches tall.) He spun so fast it almost seemed like he wasn’t moving. After Kirby eventually released his grip Ganon was sent flying out of sight.

Hades: HOLY ZEUS!

He then came flying back from around the entire world and crashed hard. Pretty much causing a tremor. He then turned back to his original form.

Ridley, watching from afar: Ooh. You hate to see that happen.

Bonny Janet: Tha’s right! None o’ ya got shit, compared ta Kirby!

Chara: Dad!

Hades: Crap, Crap, Crap!

Sephiroth, crawling to Ganon: I’m sorry Ganondorf…For I have failed. I was not strong enough.

Ganondorf: … … …

Sephiroth: We must retreat…For now but we will be back. Once we have replenished ourselves.

Ganondorf: *Nods*

Ridley, flying down with a still unconscious K.Rool: That’s our que to return I guess…God your heavy.

Hades creates a portal to somewhere. And all the villains step through it.

Dark Link: See ya later losers!

Samus: Hmf…Funny…Last I checked we won. But now in related news…WE WON!

Heroes: Heck yeah!

Doomguy: And I bagged us a few goodies to.

Samus: What?

Doomguy: A plant! (Holds up Pirahna Plant)

Link: That’s kinda less bewildering.

Doomguy: Oh and a dinosaur!

Link: A wha-

Riptor, who was held in Doomguy’s shackles, attempted to lunge at Link, causing him to piss his pants scared, Samus came over to comfort him.

Link: Dinosaur’s are just big chickens… …I hate chickens.

Samus: Yeah, it’s alright sweetie, you made it (Kisses him). Alright, listen up heroes. We did well out there today. Thanks to Sakurai & Kirby we were able to rescue Bonny, Incineroar & Dedede. But they always will attempt to fight us again so we must always be aware. DK I’m looking at you. Now come on let’s head back.

After the battle everyone headed back to the mansion Dedede was welcomed back and the second he got there, gave Rosalina & Lucas a hug, but then got to get something to eat he was being starved for days. Joker got to take care of the new obtained Pirahna Plant. He seemed to be doing a pretty good job, the plant didn’t exactly do much harm. Just a lot of smiling. Doomguy began training his new stolen pet Riptor. Though at times it was pretty…Difficult. When Chara found out her pet was stolen she was definitely not very happy. And now to Bonny Janet & Incineroar. He still lay in Dr. Mario’s infirmary recovering from his injuries. At a moment like this her past self would have attempted to catch him. But now she understands that to gain a pokémon as a partner you need to have strong bonds. So now she steps into the infirmary.

Bonny Janet: Hey, Incin. Still in tha’ coma o’ yours. They all know about wha’ yer did ta save me…Even if aye was human. They all understood tha’ yer actions were derived from the selfish desires o’ hatred for the ones tha’, yer know…But yer know wha’? (Puts her hand on his paw) Aye’ve learned something from this experience. No matter pokémon or trainer…Yer should never take one another for granted…All the pain & suffering you went through was to protect me. Even if yer still hated me…Yer still cared….I’m such a coward…I can’t even say this to you properly… … …Well…See ya.

Bonny gets up to leave only to be stopped by something that was pulling her back from her hand. Her eyes lit up, at what she saw. Incineroar was opening his eyes.

Bonny Janet: In…Incineroar?

Incineroar: Huh?…Bonny? What? Did I? I lived!?

Bonny Janet began to cry heavily and ran up to Incineroar and gave him the biggest hug she could offer.

Incineroar: Woah! Umm…

Bonny Janet: I’m sorry…sorry for all the stuff tha’ happened ta yer. It was all because o’ me. If it weren’t for me. Yer wouldn’t ‘ave got hurt.

Incineroar: No. You’re wrong. Kid…If it wasn’t for you, I would still be working for those braindead knuckle draggers. With you by my side. You showed me the true light that resides within, not just humans, but all living things alike. And I thank you for that.

Bonny Janet held Incineroar tighter now knowing the stress of the belief that her actions caused harm could now be lifted off her shoulders.

-One Week Later-

Bonny Janet: A'ight I’m about ta do it but I 'ave ta ask one more tame. Are yer sure?

Incineroar: Yes! How many times kid?

Bonny Janet: Aye just don’t know if aye should.

Incineroar: Kid, you’ve been trying to do this most of your time here. Now you’ve got the chance and your turning down the offer? Make up your mind. Besides I don’t exactly gotta stay in it.

Bonny Janet: (sigh) Ok fine. (Holds up a pokéball) Ready?

Incineroar: As I’ll ever be.

Bonny taps the pokéball against Incineroar’s fist. It wobbled around a few times before clicking in place showing Incineroar had been captured.

Bonny Janet: Yes! I did it!

Everyone who was apparently watching: YAY! After so long she did it!

Incineroar: Hey this place is pretty cosy. There’s a bed, not that I’ll sleep in here. A play area. A wrestling ring!? How are they fittin’ this stuff here!? THEY HAVE A JACUZZI!?

Bonny Janet, sending him out: A'ight that’s enough, Nirvana.

Incineroar: No my Nirvana. Dude that place was incredible I should’ve got caught ages ago.

Bonny Janet: Tha’s not what matters remember Incineroar? Hold up aye’ve gotta give yer a name…How about…Jasper, the rings roaring flame!

Incineroar: Jasper 'ey? That ain’t too shabby. And yeah I know all that mumbo jumbo. It ain’t about profit, power, or Nirvana. It’s about…

The Bond Between People & Pokemon

Incineroar: HEY TITLE! You stole my line!

Bonny Janet: Come on we’ll just boot their arse later.

Incineroar: Yeah, in the mean time let’s kick everyone eles ass!

The End. :3

[lygerastia]

Young Gods Too Cool for Summer (Keith)

Summary: Fics inspired by the songs:

Halsey - Young God starring Keith. Demi Lovato - Cool for the Summer featuring Lance.

+Bonus: HWTR to You Wearing Their Clothes because I don't know where to add it.

Warnings: smut.

Chapters: 3 [completed]

Words: 13,660

READ THE WHOLE STORY ON AO3. 

**

Everyone was cheering her on—but for her, it was all dull noise. Could she really do it? Jump into the pool from this height?

“You don’t have to do this, [name],” Keith’s voice kept replaying in her head even if she kept pushing it away from her thoughts. Her mind couldn’t focus at all; too many beers, egged on by the entourage she decided to surround herself with. It was a bad idea, the raven-haired boy didn’t need to tell her. But she was here, everyone had their eyes on her figure—and she couldn’t back down.

Was Keith looking at her right now? She could picture him with his sulky pout, arms crossed over his chest and shaking his head at the girl’s antics. It put a small smile on her face as she takes a deep breath to steady her nerves.

It was now or never; her crowd couldn’t wait any longer. It was a bet she couldn’t afford to lose. Otherwise, her secret crush would be released to the world—and that would be a disaster. She’d lose the only friendship she really cared about. And the thought of rejection pained her. Besides, it was her own fault she failed to mention…

No, not mention—lied through her teeth—about what truly scares her. Alcohol can make you say stupid stuff sometimes, especially around teenagers that wanted to taste life while they were young.

Afraid of heights? Why don’t you jump from my trampoline? You gotta face your fear, man!

She accepted, yet she lied. Now, she’d only lose face. Except that height didn’t pose a problem.

“Do it, [name],” she encouraged herself, looking up at the sky for a few seconds. Starry: it was a very romantic sky and her heart throbbed. How she wished she’d spent her time doing something else, holding hands, enjoying romance the way she should be. Underneath this canopy of darkness, in secret—heated kisses, curious touches, the pleasure of one another. She shudders; ridiculous. Her youth was devoid of romance, it only consisted of doing dangerous stunts just so she could feel important and popular like she mattered to someone. A wrong choice, because she knew she had a person like that, looking at her from the crowd with worry—maybe she’ll hate her after all this. How many times has she put him through this? How far is she willing to go before she’ll acknowledge the truth?

"Don’t do it…”

“Forgive me, Keith.”

It was now or never, do or die. There was no shame left in her feelings, just a sense of nostalgia. Will this be the last time? She hoped so—there was no energy left in her. This could really be the end.

End of her adventures. End of hope. She steps to the edge of the platform, toes curling to support herself. She stares down and it feels like she’d be jumping into the pit of hell like she’ll spin in the air forever before she reaches the cold surface of the pool. Only dark and murky water awaits at the bottom, ready to drown her.

She swallows—was it too late to back down? She trembles, feeling a chill. Her bathing suit can’t protect her from the slight chill wind, despite it being a summer day. She has to jump or get down and face the shame.

At least it will make Keith happy…

But Keith once told her:

"You know the two of us are just young gods.” She’d only chuckled at his rather philosophical mood. But it quickly sizzled away when you saw him so dreamy and…melancholy.

“ But do you feel like a young god?” she asks, concentrated.

He looks at her with that handsome face of his—the one that makes her heart skip a beat—purple eyes you could drown into. And she’ll do it gladly.

“ No, you’re the young god. But either way,” he turns his gaze back at the clouds, “ we’re gonna be legends.”

The unspoken words were left on the tip of his tongue “I’m a king and you’re a queen and we will stumble through heaven.”

Their love could only be described as shy.

“JUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMP!!” an intoxicated Lance yells at the top of his lung and well, what else was she going to do? The world was spinning around in her head. She spreads her arms to the side like wings and says a quick prayer. The pool was deep enough—the only problem was resurfacing.

YOLO, as the kids say. She leaps from up high—and Keith’s heart seizes in his throat. He wants to shout your name, but it’s too late anyway to actually stop her. His eyes can only follow her trail, her gracious figure as it flies in the air, painting a perfect picture on the starry canvas. She looks at peace; and a part of him can only admire her courage like he always did. But this moment of peace quickly dissipates as she plunges down, into the inevitable.

The air felt so chill, she thinks. Keeping her eyes closes, she doesn’t care about the cheers: she only thinks about Keith. The force of the water hits her face full-front, choking her. Panic flutters in her heart and she feebly attempts to battle the waters—but she’s afraid and she can’t do anything about it. She opens her eyes, a big mistake. Nothing she could see could give her hope right now. The surface of the water seemed so far away, the light above mocking her. Bubbles…

‘At least these are pretty…’

Yet in these moments, she could only think of her beloved dark-haired boy. Like it was mentioned earlier, their love was shy.

Everyone could obviously see it but them. The undeniable attraction was there, in their eyes, in the way they cutely sneak glances when the other one was not looking. In how they awkwardly gave each other pats on the back, how they were craving for each tiny excuse to touch one another. They were friends. She knew she liked him. He knew he liked her.

So what was stopping them?

Under the water, she just wished she told him how she felt. Touch him one last time before she succumbs to the pressure. Hug him, see those pretty fucking eyes of his.

Damn. The landscape was getting rather blurry as her mind blacked out. And I’ve been sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool…

Keith has to save me.

One last time, she pries her eyes open—and meets a wave of purple, laced with worry and determination. Her knight in shining armor really came! Dark locks flew around his head like a halo—there was no way she couldn’t recognize Keith Kogane. One strong arm wraps around her waist and she feebly clings to his shirt for support. The boy manages to swim upwards, to salvation and the girl takes a big gulp of air when she’s finally free from the confines of the water. With renewed energy, she fights to reach the edge—and she’s very glad when her fingers scrap the marble surface surrounding the pool.

“Up you go,” a strained voice whispers as she feels herself being hoisted out. She scrambles and collapses on her back, panting. A laugh bubbles in her throat, half-afraid, half-adrenaline. The cheers and howls of encouragement from all the teenagers present didn’t help her calm down—she did it. She really just fucking did it.

“That was...” she breathes out hard, “intense.”

“THAT was NOT Ok!” Keith, always worrying. He appears in her line of vision and she can’t help but smile fondly at him.

“You worry too much...” she’s calmed down a little bit and now she’s shivering. Keith doesn’t fail to notice.

“I don’t,” the boy grumbles cutely, grabbing her arm and making her stand on wobbly feet.

“Woah, the world’s not spinning anymore!” she giggles. “My hangover’s gone, Keith! That means I can drink—”

“No, no more drinking for you,” Keith takes off his red and black jacket and wraps it around her shoulders. The girl feels a sudden flush of embarrassment at the contact; a gesture so gentle and protective it melted her heart. She hides her blushing cheeks away from him and stands there awkwardly, pulling the jacket closer to her cold frame.

“Th-Tha—” she doesn’t get to finish her sentence because a loud and worried voice snatches her attention.

“[name]! Are you ok?” Pidge, her friend, tiny as ever, stops in front of her, completely ignoring Keith. The boy can only cross his arms over his chest and look to the side, upset he got interrupted. It was the perfect opportunity to...

“Yeah, yeah, I’m cool! Keith saved me!”

Pidge wasn’t convinced. “But you didn’t tell me you couldn’t swim, [name]!” Pidge’s voice raises an octave in distress, clearly worried to death.

[name] shrugs, smiling.

“Ok, enough excitement for you,” Keith brutally interrupts, taking [name] by the shoulders. This conversation was going nowhere and frankly, he hated seeing her shiver. “Let’s get you inside.”

“I can take care of her, Keith,” Pidge wants to butt in but Keith almost looks like an overprotective wolf. “Al-Alright there, tiger.”

“You guys did enough.” He stirred her away from the crowd, smelling blood and beef.

“We didn’t know! I’m sorry!” Pidge shouted after the two of them, and [name] turned around to wave at her reassuringly. I did it for the secret.

The pair entered the house, a few people giving them curious glances. Keith seriously asked her where her clothes were and she just shrugs: she doesn’t remember. Keith huffs in annoyance—ah, he seemed really upset. That made her inexplicably sad as she followed him up the stairs towards the bathroom. He threw one of the towels there to her, instructing her to dry and then exited, closing door loudly.

“...I fucked up...”

She lets fat tears loose, miserable. That’s what you get.

**

“Thank you for taking care of me, Keith,” she says minutes later—an eternity for the boy—joining him on the back terrace of the villa. She sat down, daring to go closer to his warm body for once, shoulders touching. He quickly glances at you then huff and continues to sulk. “Aww, please don’t be mad, Keithy. You said I could become a legend and that’s what I did!”

“Not like this, you idiot!” he snaps, back to his old self. “You could’ve hurt yourself. What if I wasn’t there to save your ass?”

She feels like joking to ease the butterflies in her stomach “Didn’t know you cared that much, mullet.”

“Of course I fucking care!” he yells, then composes himself, running a hand through his disheveled jet black hair. She looks down at her toes, wiggling them a bit to distract herself. Why did she felt so heartbroken? Of course he fucking cares. “And stop calling me that!” the dark-haired boy playfully pushes her away to save face from his outburst, a ghost of a smile in the corner of his mouth.

“I know you like it,” she can’t help herself from bouncing back. She wanted to make him laugh so she could stop feeling guilty. And what was Keith’s only weakness? Tickle fights. She quickly jabbed her fingers in his ribs and he is quick to react—but not too quick to avoid the onslaught.

“Ahaha—Stop—[name], please, you know I can’t—hahaha, I can’t take it!” his laughter was hysterical and it made her chuckle with pleasure. She couldn’t stop, not now. Forgive me, Keith. Please. I am sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry. I am just your stupid friend —

“STOP!” And she does, hearing the pleading tone of his voice. Keith captures her wrists and holds her arms above her head, making sure she won’t retaliate. Her whole body sags, defeated: what was the use in fighting? Keith will still be mad and their friendship will never be more than what it already was.

Stop crying, she instructed herself. In vain.

“Forgive me,” a whisper on parched lips, barely audible.

“Silly...”

He kisses her like she’s his lifeline and not vice-versa.

It surprises them both, but it quickly vanishes away under the taste of their lips mashed together. Taste so sweet and innocent, how they shyly searched for one another in that kiss until they remain breathless. They part, her eyes closed, wanting more and more and more of him. Instead, he is searching her face for a sign of refusal, but if her parted lips are an invitation, he’s going to take the chance.

“Stupid…”

He kisses her again, slower, gentler, putting all the passion he was capable of behind it. The unrequited feelings, the many thoughts, the sleepless nights, the tears, the dreams—and she kisses back with the same fervor. This is what she wanted and she’s not going to let him slip through her fingers. They kiss and kiss and kiss, lips mashing together, teeth knocking together, laughter erupting at their clumsiness—but they went on.

“You are so…” Kisses, kisses, kisses.

“Silly.”

She kisses him like he’s all she has left in the world.

In the end, they stop for air, both breathing hard, hazy eyes searching each other’s faces. If there’s a light at the end, it’s just the sun in your eyes.

“What was that, Kogane?” she asks lowly, afraid that if she’ll raise her tone the spell will disappear. At this point, she didn’t want to scare him.

Keith, still maintaining eye contact, slowly removes his hand from your wrists and she obediently rests them in her lap. One calloused palm carefully (she didn’t fail to notice the tremble in his hand) touches her cheek, the thumb rubbing her skin. Her cheeks inevitably redden, but this time she doesn’t try to hide it. All of their unspoken feelings have been shared and there was no denying anymore: they liked each other. It was mutual.

Keith’s face splits into a cocky grin, tilting his head cutely to the side, “I know you wanna go to heaven, but you’re human tonight.”

Her eyes widen in shock, unable to respond. What was that supposed to mean? Her lower lip trembles, itching to kiss him again. “K-Keith...?”

What now?

And they’re running, running, running. Hand in hand, god knows where, up the stairs, inside a bedroom. What they were about to do necessitated intimacy—and at this venue, they could find no better place. Thank God they could close the door with a key; no one could disturb them now. They tumble on the bouncy bed, limbs entangled, jacket discarded. He ends up on top, pinning her arms above her head. He stops, admiring her figure.

The room was dark, a few rays from the moonlight sneaking in, stripes painting their bodies. She looked beautiful, those sparkly [e/c] eyes, flushed cheeks, swollen lips inviting him for more kisses. How long he waited for this. At first, he didn’t even think he’d ever have a crush on someone. Keith was oblivious to other people flirting with him. He was a lone wolf, didn’t want anyone to once again enter his heart and leave unannounced. He hates that, he doesn’t want that anymore.

[name] was the only one who stayed. She fought for his approval, annoying him and before he knew it, she was a part of his routine. In her absence, he realized that he couldn’t stay away from her. At one point, his heart started speeding up at the mention of her name. Why was he feeling like this, he had no idea. But he liked her—a lot. Craved to hold her hand, to be the only one she kissed, maybe even let her be his first. He realized something was wrong when he started getting insanely jealous whenever the girl hung around boys. He felt like rescuing her from her ‘assailants’ and keep her away, shielded from intruding eyes. She was for himself only.

But those were toxic thoughts he pushed away. She belonged to no one. If she ever chose him, it was on her own volition. No turning back now, though. He achieved what he wanted: he managed to gather enough courage to kiss her.

It all happened gradually. The more time he spent with her, the more his feelings intensified—until they burst. Until he realized that this was not normal, that he was actively looking for her presence everywhere. Chatting with her until late, calling her in the dead of night, speaking of nonsense. And she listened.

Who even remembers when he noticed he has fallen for her? Maybe when she came crying in her arms, heartbroken over some nasty words some unimportant people told her. Keith knew she was wonderful, why did she listen to gossip? But she came into his arms, hugged him tight and her warmth enveloped him—it made him feel like home. With a thunderous heartbeat, he knew.

Keith Kogane loved her.

Now, with that same thunderous heartbeat, he stared at her. He wanted her in ways he didn’t believe was possible or was capable of. He craved to touch her, oh so delicately, as if she was a piece of fragile glass. Yet he didn’t know where to start. This wasn’t a thing Keith Kogane did on a daily basis—he’s ashamed to admit it was the first time. Sure, he kissed other people before, as a joke, because they forced upon himself, but this time, with her, it was genuine. And he had no idea what to do, where to go, if she even wanted him the same way he did. He just stared, a low blush slowly creeping on his cheeks as the adrenaline from before vanishes. He acted on impulse; Keith has been afraid for her safety, seeing her struggling in the water. It took him a while to steady his nerves and he was still not completely sure he was calm.

She was safe. She had to be.

That satisfied smile told him that. “Aren’t you going to go on?” she breathes out, eager. There’s a light in the crack that’s separating her thighs, and he’s tempted.

“Well, um, y-yeah…” despite that, he stood still. Quiznak, she was so beautiful, he was breathless. Where—oh—where? “Uhh—”

“If it helps you, I’m nervous too.” She laughs dryly, her brows turned in worry. Is Keith having second thoughts? Maybe he didn’t like her the way she did. That kiss was just a joke that went too far. Did Pidge put him up to it? She wouldn’t be surprised, but it still hurt.

Then it hit her. “Perhaps this is your first time?” she grins widely, relaxing a little bit.

“Wha—" his voice raises an octave as he splutters. The dark blush of his looked extremely cute in the moonlight, his eyes twinkling with shame and want. “Well…” he looked to the side in an adorable manner. He simply nods as a response.

“Ha ha!”

“Hey! Don’t laugh, I’m serious!” He pouts and straddles your hips. He’s tempted to do his signature move: crossing his arms over his chest. “So what?”

“Keith,” she smiles a smile too bright for him. She rests on one elbow, the other one reaching out to him. Her hand gently rests on his left cheek, caressing his scar marring his handsome face. Well, it doesn’t ruin anything about his aesthetic—you think he’s even better with it. His heart thaws, threatening to burst out of his chest with cuteness aggression. An in-love smile spreads onto his face, leaning into the touch.

Gosh, he just wants to have her. So badly.

“It’s perfectly normal. I would’ve been surprised, really. But at least this makes it special, huh?” she betrays nothing of her nervousness. “For both you and me.”

His eyes widen and she just laughs as a response. They were both in the same boat.

“To be honest, I didn’t think my night would end up with you…” shyly, she stares out the window. How romantic. “But I’m glad.”

Her words have the desired effect. He relaxes visibly, his body sighing with relief. “O-Oh…Ok, then…”

“Sooo…now that we got that over with…” she runs a hand through his fluffy hair, tentatively. “Can we go on? I think we had a good chemistry going and well…I wouldn’t mind losing my virginity with you, on the first day, might I add.” She chuckles and he follows. “I feel like I’ve known you for a lifetime—” Red thread of fate. Following them through time. “—so I don’t mind at all. We’re young. What did you say? Legends and young gods—”

“Legends and young gods—"

“So in synch.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he hovers above you, dangerously close to your lips. Your breath mingled together as you leaned back into the pillows. Why did this felt so hot? “And I’m doing this because I…” So fucking close. “I…”

He can’t say it. He doesn’t need to. She bridges the gap between them, shushing up with her lips.

The game was on.

Lips smacking hotly, pants and moans as their only desire was to explore each other’s bodies. No more inhibitions now. The bets were placed and there was just one possible outcome: they’ll both lose to fate. She bites his lip, nibbling, as her hand roams into his hair. Tugging, testing to see if he liked that move or not. He growls, lost in lust. Keith might be new at this, but he sure as hell was a natural.

However, he doesn’t have time for French kissing. That was a territory he doesn’t want to dabble in just yet.

“Damn, you’re just so pretty,” he grumbles, giving her one quick glance before he begins his assault on her neck. His lips nibble and she likes the shivers it gives her. Craning her neck, he takes that as an invitation to bite.

“Ah!” she exclaims, then giggles, amused. “You’re such an animal, Kitty!”

“Hmph,” is his only response before resuming his ministrations. He kisses up her neck, then down her shoulder, only to end on her clavicle. He attempts to give you a hickey, to the best of his abilities—but, somehow, he only ends up slobbering all over you.

“Ha ha, Keith, it tickles.”

“Should-Should I stop?” he takes a look at your neck and bemused expression and immediately feels embarrassed. “I am not that good at that, huh?”

She laces her arms around his neck, pulling him back down. “We’ll work on it.” Before he can comment and pout, you kiss him again. He immediately molds into the pattern, resuming the making-out.

“Touch me,” she says between kisses, urging him to speed up. She couldn’t wait any longer. He’s hesitant at first, not sure how to focus on both kiss and touching. The [h/c]-haired girl refrains for laughing, afraid to hurt his feelings. “Touch me,” she repeats.

And this time he listens. Trembling fingers touch her arms, gliding upwards to her shoulder. He gulps, beet-red and afraid of touching her breasts. The triangles of her swimsuit barely covered her chest—it was the first time he’d noticed it. He had plenty of time to admire her last summer when they went to the beach. Besides, she had more qualities and personality than body—for him, that was what mattered.

“Do it,” her breath is like the whisper of a devil. Pure temptation. He can’t refuse. He grabs them and experimentally fondles them. She’d laughed if she weren’t so tingly between her legs. “Take—Take it off…?”

She doesn’t have to tell him twice, eager to see more. He pulled it up her head with his thumbs with her wanted help.

“Wo-Woah…” he can’t help but let out what was going on in his mind at the sight. They looked so perfect and round and squishy. And the nipples—perky and sweet. His face was a red mess but still, after encouraging himself, he pinched them.

“Oh!” she squeaked.

And that was all Keith needed. He kisses her again while fondling her assets, tracing her curves and the line of her body until his fingers reached the line of her bikini. He doesn’t comment on her wetness, shyly rubbing between her folds through the fabric. She can only follow his movements with embarrassment: sex was definitely more shameful than at first glance. But at least Keith felt equally embarrassed so that made her feel better.

They were like two kids exploring each other. And that was fine.

She whimpered, spreading her legs beneath him to give him more access. He gulped, gathering the courage to remove her panties. He was already raring to go, feeling the tightness in his pants. He wanted more of her, more, more, more...

“I’ll...I’ll take them off...” she whimpers, using her hands to shimmy them off her legs. They quickly disappear somewhere around the room. Her hands involuntarily go to cover herself as best as she could. Now was not the time for shame.

“Wh-What?” Keith stutters, a bit confused despite the eyes clouded with lust. He wanted to take her all in.

“It’s...It’s not fair...” she mutters, fidgeting. “Strip.” I want to see more of you.

He blushes. “Ye-Yeah..” Keith understands. He takes a few moments to take off his shirt, giving her a full view of her of his chest. Not surprisingly, he had some muscles—all that training paid off in the end. She bites her lower lip in admiration and lets out a whistle. She liked what she saw.

“Now your pants,” she purrs. Keith awkwardly fumbles with the buttons of his jeans, taking him a while before he could manage to push them off. He struggles a little bit to take them off completely, and it takes her entire will not to laugh before Keith finally manages to throw them along with the panties—lost. His boxers couldn’t contain his excitement and she avoided it with her gaze as if her life depended on it. She was not ready for little Keith...

“Pleasedontlaugh,” he says in a quick breath and, in one swift motion, he takes them off. Eyes closed tight, he doesn’t notice her brief reaction of amazement. But she had to admit that it was…better than she expected. She wiggles her eyebrow to distract him with humor and he just pouts, then chuckles.

“I guess it’s kinda funny,” he says between chucks, softening a little bit, both physically and mentally.

“Shall we go on, then?” She pulls him back into the right mood by kissing him. No turning back, no, no. They kiss again, passionately, their skin touching. One of his hand goes down, between her legs, rubbing. She curls and presses herself closer to him, not wanting this to end. She whimpers and tosses around, loving the way it felt so foreign and great at the same time. He quickly picks on what she likes, where she moans the most and what makes her squeal: the neck kisses were a bonus. With a shivering hand, she grabs onto his member, slowly teasing him. He hisses at her cold touch, but he gets used to it, letting pleasure slip into his kisses and whispers. His instincts awaken, making him rough as he scrapes his teeth across her skin and injects her with ecstasy.

He’s ready—and so is she. A panting and wet mess—two erratic heartbeats that want to join each other. He stops and looks at her, asking for confirmation. She nods, sweat running down her hot face.

Keith smiles—then it quickly disappears when he realizes the condom was in the pocket of his jeans. “Oh, shit, wait a moment!” he jumps off the bed with cat-like agility and stumbles through the dark in search of his pants. [name] watches him and tries to help him out; but it takes a few minutes before he finally finds them. He rummages through the pockets and returns victoriously as if he just won a battle.

She snorts, “Someone came prepared.” He halts in his steps, ashamed. Ok, he got caught red-handed but it wasn’t his fault. Hormones can make anyone act crazy and it wasn’t far-fetched to assume that they both wanted this. That sex had to be the outcome of this party if all went well. He pepped himself before this party, knowing that this was the last time he could confess to her. Or else he wouldn’t have the courage to do it again.

Adrenaline helped—and now he was here. It was worth all the effort.

“Well, I—I’m sorry if you think that I’m just using you for…That’s really not the case! I like—” Say it, Keith, say it. She was sitting at the edge of her seat, awaiting his answer. “I like you, you know that?”

She grins widely, “Of course. I never would’ve thought otherwise. So…” The girl beckons him over and simply kisses him. He kisses her back—and eventually, they come to the point where they were. The boy confidently puts his condom on and positions himself.

‘You sure?’ his eyes suggested.

‘I am,” she responded back.

He’s in and she gasps. She heard stories about it being painful, but not like this. She grits her teeth, only worrying Keith—but she reassures him quickly that she was ok. Just needs a bit of time to get used to it all. So many sensations pass through her body, the same thing happening to him. She clings onto his shoulder, inhaling and exhaling to calm her heartbeats. Meanwhile, Keith does his best to keep his composure, kissing her brows, her forehead, her eyelashes, cheeks, lips, nose.

When she opens her eyes, she was ready. Holding her tight, he starts moving, slowly as to not hurt her. She winces a bit at first, but with time, it got all better due to the lubrication. And, after a few more thrusts, she starts feeling pleasure.

Boy, she didn’t expect it to be this good. “Oh, my!”

“What, what is it? Am I doing something wrong?” Keith panics, stopping.

“Everything is fine,” she says, breathless and dizzy. “Go on..” Her whiny voice sounds erotic and it gives him the spunk to go on. He speeds up, confident in her word that she was fine. The pleasure of their intertwined bodies is intense, so it doesn’t take him long to feel at the end. He’s exhausted and sweating and he’s hot and bothered—while she doesn’t know where to cling herself to for support. Her legs were trembling from the force of holding them up around his torso—she felt like she had enough.

“Keith…” she moans weakly; it wasn’t as if she wasn’t enjoying this. She liked it. The passion could be felt and pleasure was throbbing between her legs each time Keith thrusts.

“I’m…I’m gonna..” and at least she could bask into his husky and sexy voice, low and choked with pleasure. She knew what he meant and encouraged him with sweet nothings. His pants start to get uneven and high-pitched moaning that put a flame in her core. She urged him to pound her faster and he obliged, pulling out of her just in time with his climax.

“Ah—[name], hngh…” he bites his lip to contain his loud moan, tossing his head backward. Loving the way he’s so vulnerable from doing this with her, she touches herself for a few seconds before she comes down from her own high with an equally muffled scream of his name.

Tired, she falls onto her back, limbs spread out like a starfish. Her eyes follow Keith, awaiting a disappointed reaction: but none comes. Feeling ashamed all of a sudden, he avoids her gaze, dark red on his painted cheeks.

“Keith?” she tries, fear creeping into her heart. Is he going to leave her?

“So-Sorry—” he sniffs, shuddering. “It got cold all of a sudden.” He starts checking the room for his clothes, as well as bringing her own swimsuit. Shamefully, they started dressing themselves up in awkward silence. When they were done, they stand on the edge of the bed, not knowing what to say to each other. She fiddles with her finger, the adrenaline from before running out. Now it all feels empty and cold.

“I think I’m going to go find my clothes,” she says, standing up. She wants to run—this has been the mistake. Why did she believe that Keith liked her and different from other boys?

“Wait!” he grabs her wrist, holding her in place. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“I understand. This meant nothing to you.” Her voice is low and hurt, “It meant everything to me.”

“For me too, don’t get me wrong!” he yells, desperate. “I really do like you.” She turns to face him—and he’s wearing a desolate expression. “I just don’t know how to act…”

A small smile comes up to her face, “Ok, me either.” The two of them interlace hands, staring into each other’s eyes. [e/c] and purple. Shy smiles. “I like you too, Keith.”

The smile on his face can’t be described: it was so pure and in-love. It was amazing. This is a new beginning—and they’re going to do it together.

Shy love; but they’ve taken their first steps.

–

[masterlist]

[morningsound15]

Stacie/Beca + 11

Stacie x Beca + “things you said when you were drunk”

a little platonic stacie/beca for you all :)

give me a ship and a number and i’ll do a prompt

“Beca,” Stacie says slowly, the letters slurring together. She looks unsteady where she stands, and she wobbles a little more as she takes a few stumbling steps forward. She waves her beer bottle in Beca’s direction and almost clocks her across the nose.

Beca laughs as she dodges the uncoordinated swing. “Woah there, slow down, Champ.” Beca pulls the beer bottle gently from her hands. Everyone else has long since gone home, with plenty of kisses exchanged and tight hugs goodnight and promises to get together for brunch as soon as possible. Beca’s stuck with Stacie, though, because she’d been far too intoxicated to find her own way home.

“I’ll check with Bella’s sitter,” Aubrey had said quietly to Beca in the kitchen. “Maybe she can take the couch?”

And of course Beca’s gonna let her crash on her couch. Never leave a sister hanging, right? Especially not one of your Bella sisters.

“You had enough there?” she asks, hands on Stacie’s shoulders as she tries to check her eyes to see just how far-gone she really is.

Stacie nods, throws her arms around Beca’s shoulders, and hugs her tight. “Tonight was so fun.”

In terms of height, Beca only really comes up to about Stacie’s sternum, so she feels a bit smothered in this embrace. Still, she pats Stacie lightly on the back until she finally lets go.

Beca shoots her an easy smile. “I’m glad you had a good time. Now, let’s get you some water and a horizontal surface that isn’t my bathroom floor. Sound good?”

“Sounds great,” Stacie says, already flopping face-first onto Beca’s couch.

Beca chuckles as she grabs a glass from the kitchen. She fills it under the tap, and snags a bottle of painkillers from the drawer to the right of the fridge before she picks her way back into the living room.

Stacie seems to have made herself comfortable. Her face is buried in one of Beca’s pillows, her hair splayed across couch cushions and her own face. Her legs are so long that her feet brush the armrest on the other side of the couch, and she has one leg bent up at the knee, her foot dangling absurdly in the air. Her arms are akimbo, one stuck under her torso and the other folded across her back.

It can’t be a comfortable position, but Stacie seems entirely unbothered. “C’mon, Drunky,” Beca says, putting a hand on Stacie’s shoulder. “You gotta sit up and drink this.”

“No,” Stacie grumbles, pushing half-heartedly at Beca’s arm.

“You’re gonna regret it tomorrow,” Beca warns. But Stacie still grumbles. So Beca compromises. “Last thing, Stace; I promise. Then bed.”

“Then bed,” Stacie repeats, and she sounds a little doubtful, but it gets her to sit up slightly nonetheless. She spills most of the water she tries to drink down her own shirt, but she manages to get a few good swallows down. Beca will re-fill her glass when she finally passes out. Hopefully this eleventh-hour moderate hydration will be enough to stave off at least some of the hangover she’s sure to have tomorrow.

Once Stacie finally empties her glass (only somewhat by drinking it), she pushes it back towards Beca’s chest and flops back down onto the couch, this time on her back.

She hums a little, her eyes squinting up at the ceiling fan. “The room’s all spinny.”

“It tends to do that when you’re smashed, yeah.”

“Will it stop?”

Beca nods as she puts the cup down next to Stacie’s head, along with the bottle of Advil. “Any minute now.” She should probably get the spare trashcan from the bathroom, too. Just in case. You never know, in these cases, how the night’s going to go, and Beca would rather not have to scrub vomit off of her floor tomorrow morning.

“Rub my feet?”

Beca shoots her a look. “Stacie…”

“Pleasssseee, Beca? Pretty please?” Stacie wiggles her socked toes for good measure.

Beca rolls her eyes and sighs, but she clambers onto the couch anyway. Stacie manages to lift her legs just long enough for Beca to slip under them, before they fall down onto Beca’s lap.

“Oof,” Beca grunts with a grimace when one of Stacie’s heels clips into her stomach, but she shakes off the pain and sets to work.

A few quiet minutes pass where all Beca does is rub lightly at the soles of Stacie’s feet. She figures she only needs to do this for max five minutes — Stacie’s so sloshed she’ll probably pass out any second now. And the likelihood of her even remembering this interaction is so slight, Beca really doesn’t need to try that hard at all. Just resting her hands on Stacie’s ankles seems to be enough to convince her that Beca’s doing as she asked.

And Beca thinks that’ll be the end of it. It’s been five minutes since Stacie last spoke, and her breathing has already evened out. Beca thinks it’s probably safe for her to sneak her way back to her own bedroom. She just has to figure out how she’s going to get out from under Stacie’s legs, first.

But then, unexpectedly: “I’m afraid I’m gonna be a bad mom,” Stacie says quietly.

Beca blinks, and sits up straighter. Stacie’s legs are still thrown over her lap, so she can’t do much more than that. But still, she lays her hands on Stacie’s bare shins. “What?”

Stacie just shrugs. She has a happy little drunk smile on her face. Her eyes are closed, her head tipped back. It sways from side-to-side on the couch. Her arm rises above her head, conducting an invisible orchestra only she can hear. “My mom sucked. I’m bad at responsibility. ‘m—‘m sittin’ here drunk with you while my two-year-old’s at home with a sitter.”

Beca blinks. She doesn’t really know what to say to that. “You’re allowed to enjoy yourself, Stace. Just because you’re a mom now, it doesn’t mean—”

“I think ‘m gonna mess her up,” Stacie cuts her off. It’s like she can’t fixate on the proper emotion. She oscillates between amused and somber on the turn of a dime, and Beca’s left feeling like she’s got whiplash. “I’m worried I’m gonna mess her up. I mess everything up.”

“Stacie,” Beca says quietly. She starts to move, and huffs with exertion. It takes her more effort than it really should to wrangle her way out from underneath the other woman’s body. She does eventually, wiggling her way to the floor where she falls with a heavy thump. Stacie giggles at her, her eyes still shut tight. Beca rolls her eyes and slides along the floor until she has her face near Stacie’s. She brushes her fingers across Stacie’s cheekbones, pushing her hair out of her face. Stacie’s eyes don’t open, but they flutter a little, and she turns toward Beca’s touch.

“I don’t think you’re gonna mess your daughter up,” Bella says truthfully, her voice as soft as it’s ever been. “I think you’re gonna be a great mom. You’ll be, like… the cool, hot mom that all the other moms are jealous of at PTA meetings.”

That draws a laugh from her. “Yeah?” Stacie says, her eyes fluttering open. Her pupils are large, her eyes glassy. “Y’think so?”

“Oh, I know so.”

Stacie hums, and nuzzles a little deeper into the couch. “You’re a good person, Becs.”

“Thanks.” Beca grins. “You’re pretty okay yourself.”

Stacie hums. Her eyes blink slowly, unfocused. She shifts forward on the couch a little, her neck stretching out.

The kiss she presses to Beca’s lips is soft; unexpectedly so. Not that Beca’s spent much time thinking about kissing Stacie — the thought had never previously occurred to her — but if she had thought about it, she probably would have expected it to be harder. More passionate. Maybe a little wetter.

Beca doesn’t move. She doesn’t know what to do, how to react… Should she kiss her back? Push her away? Say, Sorry, Stace, I’m just not into you like that?

But Stacie doesn’t give her enough time to ponder a proper response. She pulls away a second later, and immediately bursts into peals of laughter at the expression on Beca’s face. “What?” she asks through a chuckle. “You’ve ne—never kissed a girl before?”

“No I… I have, it’s just—” Stacie laughs even harder, so hard her shoulders shake and she has to fall back onto the couch. This situation is apparently hilarious to her. Beca huffs. “Stop that.”

“You—you should see your face!”

“I don’t like people laughing after they kiss me! It’s rude!” But Stacie is too far gone. Beca slaps at her shoulder. “Stacie, stop!”

Stacie laughs all the harder, curled in on herself, her hands grasping at her spasming stomach.

Beca has to admit, begrudgingly, that it’s kind of infectious. She’s cracking a smile before she’s really aware of it, and a few seconds later she’s laughing, too, just as hard as Stacie.

They’re an incorrigible duo. Every time one of them tapers off their giggling fit, the other one laughs harder, and then the whole cycle starts again. Beca is breathless by the end of it, tears streaming down her face, her cheeks cramping and her sides splitting.

She’s not sure who stops first. It’s more of a slow, unnoticed de-progression than anything truly discernible. But by the end of it, they’re sitting side-by-side on Beca’s hardwood floors, backs pressed to the couch and legs folded in front of them. Their shoulders brush, and Beca takes a moment to knock Stacie’s good-naturedly.

Stacie leans her head against the top of Beca’s. “You really think I’ll be a good mom?” She asks into the empty room. She sounds significantly more sober, now. Beca’s not sure if she’s actually sobered up, or if maybe she was never really that drunk in the first place.

Beca tucks her arm through Stacie’s elbow. “I think your kid is gonna have a kick-ass mom, and a kick-ass extended family of weird aunts and big sisters. And Lilly. Lilly’ll be there, too.”

Stacie chuckles. “I always loved my aunts.”

“Aunts are the best,” Beca says back. She smiles, though they aren’t looking at each other. “You’re gonna be just fine, Stacie,” she promises, a little quieter. “You know we’re here, if you ever need anything.”

“I know. It’s just… it’s hard. I feel like I have to do it all myself or else I’ve failed. And I know that’s dumb, it’s just…” She sighs, a soft, quiet thing. “It’s hard doing it all by myself.”

“You aren’t by yourself, though. Not really.”

“Yeah.” Stacie presses a kiss to the crown of Beca’s head, right on top of her hair. “You’re right. ‘m not alone.”

[duderocketship]

Noggin Clobberer

My trap tags don't expire   I'm an arsonist for hire   on these bars Watch me spit fire, yuh Got a grill in my mouth & a grill on my porch   New balance on my feet,   In my kitchen selling work   Got grass like I'm dirt Hit the gas like I'm first Eating ass with a thirst Thots be scary go to church Give that pussy heckin hurt   I'ma dawg ripe from birth   Yes I'm bound to rule the Earth And I'll pillage til it skrrt -Bet you ain't gon take my turf 'Less you finna prove that worth Satisfy the ladies aye my dick got 1 inch girth & I'm all Foaming from the mouth like she rabid   Fuck yo bitch leave her shaking, steady rabbit Only fux wit gold Cos' I don't believe in average I'm a savage with these lavish roasts so toast to this y'all napping, woah Gimme  t h i c c  bone   -I'm here to cuck ur bitch I Go Donkey Kong on em wit banana clips   Mushrooms down the pipe, Now watch me all-star this shit Leave em duckin’ runnin’ huffin’ when tha muhfuckin’ hammer hit, boiiii Ball so hard I got u trippin' Spitting triplets in the kitchen -To watch the world burn   Is my muhfuckin’ mission Be shifting these gears Like transmissions in a sentence; Remix it to ignition, straight Dunkin’ on y’all bitch-ass Light me up that's what's up, Bruh you real ass vintage Try and step to me, Catch you sleepin’ with those fishes Throw bows with the flow Man I do this shit for fun Dabbing every day Just stir the pot to color up I'm on another level Mine down on the nether Architect if ever clever big-bro pullin’ levers    Embezzled Denny’s rhymes Just to peddle to the metal   & I'm never gonna give Until I hit that fuckin’ threshold yuh   Flexin’ on these spades When I play that fuckin’ trump; If you got no brain Then I'm gankin’ all your junk    Kickin’ in yo grave Push up daisies in the trunk I'm literally insane U don't know about dat funk yuh Blizzard dick a hipster bitch   Scissor kick your gizzard slick   Crave attention slit my wrists Iced out and I'm fuckin’ lit Like ah shit got that gas check my Auschwitz All about the offense When I’m toxic wit that nonsense Coursing through my conscience Looking for recompense; Like hollerin’ at a deaf bitch Or knocking over blind kids I'm in that hearse Smokin’ herb swerving verses Turnin’ words Like its a curse, ya  (August 2018) First song of my upcoming rap EP, listen to the demo @  https://soundcloud.com/duderocketship/noggin-clobberer

[richietozierluv]

it was final - (richie tozier) part 3 of 5

part 1 / part 2 / part 4 / part 5

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Reader / Eddie x Reader? kinda

Summary: Apparently, after everything you and your friends had been through, it wasn’t enough. Now you were alone in Derry, and the very thing you thought had an ending, was coming back.

Author’s Note: this is kinda in eddie’s pov but i thought that would help considering richie and the reader aren’t in the same place also i hope someone out there is proud because i persevered even with writer’s block 

Word Count: 1,967

Warnings: Swearing

When you had first become friends with Eddie, you would spend every waking moment with him. Even on a far too rainy day, you’d talk to him for hours on the home phone, much to the displeasure of both of your mothers (and Richie).

“Eddie dear, do you know how many germs there are on a telephone? Eddie? There’s more germs than on the seat of a toilet!”

“Y/n, you’re racking up the phone bill! Can’t you stop talking to your friends for one minute?”

In fact, he had been the one to introduce the idea of sneaking into your bedroom, and was the main reason you were terrified of the dark. On one particularly boring Thursday when the phone lines had been cut due to a storm, the tapping on your window had you almost pissing your pants. You thought it was the neighbour’s cat again, trying to paw at a moth, but you became doubly frightened when the curtains opened to show a very much human face rather than a cat’s.

“Eds, what the hell are you doing? My mom is literally in the other room,” you whispered, as you slid open the window to invite him in. If anyone else had called him ‘Eds’ he’d be scowling and throwing fake punches, although whenever you did, his stomach felt sick, but in a good way. The only downside to this, was that Richie had caught on too, and had tried sneaking in a few ‘Eds’ here and there himself. He was met with a, “fuck you Trashmouth,” or the occasional middle finger.

You knew deep down, that Eddie would die for you if he really, really, had to. So it was only by instinct that you had called him first after seeing the clown.

-

“Y/n? Y-you thuh-thuh-thuh-there?” Bill called, after hearing the phone supposedly fall from your grasp. You kept your eyes on the person or… thing standing outside and fumbled hastily to pick up the phone.

“Uh- yeah sorry Bill, I- I think I have to go, I was supposed to do some ch-ch-chores after school-“

“Y/n, is ev- is everyth-thing oh-okay?”

“Huh? Yeah of course don’t worry,”

“I-I mean, I know tha-that yuh-you and R-Richie had b-broken up, b-but,”

“Yeah Bill that sounds great, I’ll call you soon, okay?” you hung up the phone, still locking eyes with who- or what you had believed to be dead. It had been almost six months since you last saw IT, and that whole ritual had seemed so final, so either you were going crazy, or you were staring death quite literally in the face.

You took a step forward, then looked around to make sure there was nothing behind you, but as you looked back outside the kitchen window, IT was gone. In the few moments it had taken you to bite down your scream, and feel your heart pumping again, you had subconsciously dialled the number for Eddie’s new phone. You hadn’t spoken to him since he’d left, and when his father had passed the phone to him, you almost jumped at the sound of his voice.

“Hello-“

“Jesus please us, Eds! Your voice! Have you started doing impressions now or have your balls finally dropped?” just hearing him laugh in reply was enough to make you forget about your current situation. But not totally enough.

“The first thing you say to me in almost five months offends me, you’re unbelievable.” There was a soft silence that followed, comfortable, as if you both hadn’t gone through hell and back. “Hey, I really missed you,”

And then you were crying. Dear god why am I crying? “I miss you too Eds, you have no idea what it’s been like since-“

“No yeah I know, do you need to catch me up on anything other than Romeo and Juliet’s breakup? Have any of you died yet?”

“Oh fuck Eds, haven’t you heard? Romeo’s skipped town, and apparently Juliet’s gone insane, seeing clowns and shit-“

“What?��

“Richie’s moved-“

“No, I know that. What was that about ‘seeing clowns and shit’?” you could hear the concern in his voice, it was even more prominent as you heard him take a pump from his puffer.

“Oh yeah- that’s what I was calling you about, I was on the phone to Bill, and I just turn around and I see fucking IT outside my window,” now you were twirling the phone cord as if you were gossiping about boys, and makeup, and what Tiffany was wearing last Tuesday; and not discussing the very thing that had almost killed you and your friends numerous times.

“Okay, have you called Richie? He’s moved to this town like an hour from you- I wasn’t supposed to saying anything but-“

“I’m not calling him.”

“What? But he could just ask his parents-“

“Eddie, I don’t wanna get into it. I called you, now what do I do?”

“I dunno, I’m not exactly Big Bill intuitive,”

“If you throw around the word ‘intuitive’ at our age, I’d think you’re pretty close to ‘Big Bill intuitive’. You got us out of that place without a map Eds, just… tell me if I need to… just tell me what to do. I trust you.”

-

“You have to tell him that you like him!” Eddie’s heart hurt as he said this, but he saw the way Richie looked at you, and as your best friend, it was Eddie’s job to pressure you into doing things you didn’t think you were ready for. “If you don’t do it, I will,” he made a gesture of cupping his hands over his mouth to call Richie over, and laughed as you basically tackled him to the ground.

“I swear to God, Eddie Kaspbrak, you will do no such thing, or I’ll be shoving that middle finger you like so much up-“

“Woah, okay, okay!” he blushed, noticing how close you were, and how you were basically sitting on him. “My mom wouldn’t be so happy with that idea, she’d be disinfecting me for weeks,” and tried to cover his red cheeks with a mock look of horror.

“Eds, what if he doesn’t even like me back?” you sat yourself up, and looked at Richie doing somersaults in the water. You giggled as he came up for air, his hair plastered to his face and his glasses.

“Are you fucking kidding me Y/n?” now he sat up, looking at you in disbelief, “how could anyone not like you?”

“Well for starters-“

“Okay shut up before I do something that not even you would be proud of,” his blush returned at having made you laugh, “but- okay he made us swear not to tell you-“

“Tell me what?”

“Well… everything? He can’t stop talking about you, I’m surprised you haven’t even noticed the flirting. You’ve known him longer than any of us!”

“Oh please, Eds, he talks to me the same way you do,” Ouch. Eddie could feel the butterflies in his stomach attacking each other, a mixture of sadness and guilt of not having made his feelings more obvious to you before it was too late.

-

The second you had hung up the phone, Eddie’s fingers flipped through the yellow legal pad on the kitchen counter, looking for an answer. He found Bill, which was just as good. Eddie had reassured you that you probably hadn’t seen anything, reminded you what you had all gone through to kill IT.

“Hello, Zack Denbrough speaking,”

“Hi sir, this is Eddie Kaspbrak, I need to-“

“Bill’s already been on the phone today, he’s eating dinner,”

“Please sir, this is important-“

“Honey, food’s getting cold!” his wife called from the dining room.

“But Mr Denbrough,” Eddie couldn’t so much as fit in another word when he heard the phone line ‘beep’ in showing that adults really do not care about anything. He groaned, calling the others one by one but being turned down by mothers and fathers alike. Mike’s at the movies, oh she’s doing her homework, Stan can’t come to the phone right now. Eddie hesitated before calling the last person on the list. He was sure that he’d be willing to help, but unsure that you would want it.

He sighed with relief as he heard Maggie Tozier call her son to the phone.

“Hey Eds, long time no see, seenyor,”

“Just because I am physically unable to punch you, doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about it Tozier,” there was an unspoken tension between the two boys. Whether it was the oncoming fact that you were in danger, or just plain missing each other, they were unable to tell. Both feelings made them sick, as there seemed there was no way to fix any of it.

“If you’re calling about what I did to Y/n-“

“What did you do to her? She called me and – no, it’s not about that,” Eddie could hear Richie’s intake of breath, as if he had just breached out of water for the first time in ten minutes. Or as if he were in the middle of sobbing.

“Eddie, I don’t know how to help her, I did everything I could to make sure she wouldn’t get the fucking barrel,”

“The barrel?”

“Of the gun! Could you not feel it? There was nothing final about what happened when we thought we killed IT. Don’t you think there’d be some sort of explosion, or I dunno, something big?”

“Rich-“

“It’s like Bill said, Derry is IT, and IT is Derry. And Derry, in case you hadn’t noticed, is perfectly fine, which is not perfectly fine-“

“What the hell are you talking about? Derry isn’t a thing, we can’t kill Derry,”

“If we don’t find a way Eddie, Derry’s going to kill Y/n.”

-

As easy as it was to get out of Derry, no one had given it a thought. It was as if by some other force, the town needed its people, as if it survived off of them. But by the end of 1985, there was a brief period in which that thought had crossed everybody’s mind, like they had woken up from a coma and finally realised how shitty of a town Derry was. Sure, it had its charm, with the town library, and the enormous Paul Bunyan statue, but it wasn’t until now people begun to notice the smell. You couldn’t escape the smell of the sewer. If it weren’t coming from the drains or gutters, the Kenduskeag stream would happily supply its aroma of runoff grey-water. Beverly Marsh was the first of many to leave, and perhaps her leaving had been the one to wake up everybody else. Or maybe it had something to do with the eight kids that had gone into the sewers without much of a notice.

But now the situation had changed, and those very kids that had started the farewell party, wanted to come back. And as hard as the task seemed, to convince their parents to go back to Derry, Bev, Eddie, Bill, and Richie, were already on their way.

-

You sat on the edge of the sidewalk in front of your house with a cigarette gripped between your teeth, daring Mr Arnold to yell at you to put it out. But despite the exaggerated drags and coughs, he hadn’t even given you a glance, as if you weren’t there at all. You stepped on the cigarette to put it out as you stood up, and as you turned to say, “It was fun hanging out with you, sir!” your feet had hit the curb and sent you falling backwards onto your ass. Mr Arnold seemed to be hanging from his porch light, yet there was no rope.

He looked as if he were floating.

AN: i kept on rewriting the last few hundred words over and over again but i finally! came up with something im somewhat happy with, and i hope you guys are too!!!!

tagged: @riverdalerebel @johnsonxstilinski @littlepaperaeroplanes @tn22220-blog

[strawberriestyles]

The Christmas Series: Part 2

Harry X Reader: Fluff (and angst?)

In which you try to find Harry’s merry.

Read previous parts here.

Request? Yes:

buying a Christmas tree with harry and a spider crawls out it while he is putting an ornament on and he screams his ass off

I have a Christmas idea that might be silly but…..your first tree with Harry! You insist on starting small, just a little runt of a tree with some of your old ornaments from your childhood and some of his from his own childhood but then also going shopping to pick out new ornaments to showcase your time together like a little pair of skates for the time he took you to the rink, a coffee mug for all the late nights spent talking all night, etc. it just makes me melt 😍😍 also I love the icon 😊

“It has to go in front of the window, Harry,” you argue, placing your hands on your hips. “I’m not settling.”

“Didn’ go in front of the window last year,” he mutters, sighing deeply. “Don’t know why we can’ just put it in the same spot.”

“Please, stop moaning about it. I thought you’d jump at the chance to show me how strong and muscley you are.”

“Am strong and muscley, aren’t I?” Harry asks, finally rising from his chair to help you move the sofa. It’s only taken a solid half hour of bothering him.

Patiently, you squat to grip one side of the couch, waiting for Harry to lift his own side. Once it’s hoisted into the air, however, Harry’s mind seems to wander.

“H, you need to move it my way. It’s going over by the door, not in the corner.”

“Why? Don’t yeh think—”

“Harry,” you interrupt, tilting your head. Your patience has begun to wear thin. “Baby, please cooperate.”

“Fine,” he mumbles, following you to reposition the couch where you’d like it.

You love your boyfriend. You love him more than you’ve ever loved anyone else, but he can be a pain. Right now, for example, when he’s been home for a little over a week, there have been at least three times that you’ve considered booking him another entire tour, just to get him out of your hair. You understand his exhaustion. Really, you do, but he can’t expect you not to be excited for the holidays, and he certainly can’t expect you to do all the preparations yourself.

“Right here is fine,” you tell him, but his mind has wandered again, and he continues walking. “Harry! Harry, I said here is fine!” you shout, stumbling backward with the pressure he puts on the sofa.

“Oh, sorry,” he apologizes, setting the couch down at his feet. You lower your own end and huff indignantly, glancing at the bare area by the window. It’s perfect.

“It’s fine. Just grab the keys,” you tell him, heading off to slip into your coat.

***

“Fuckin’ frigid out here,” Harry complains, zipping his coat up further so that it covers his mouth.

“Yes, I know,” you inform him, pulling your hood up to shield your ears from the cold. “We’re in the same place.”

“All righ’, well yeh don’ have to be so bloody snarky about it,” he mutters as you begin to walk away from him.

“Me, the snarky one,” you whisper under your breath, trekking through a foot of snow and away from the car. Wind blows up mists of white and presses against your front, making your path that much harder.

“Y/N, will yeh slow down, please?” you hear Harry call after you, his voice muffled by the material of his coat and by the whistling of the breeze.

“Move your little ass,” you yell back at him.

Harry trots to catch up to you, nearly tripping in the thick snow. He always was clumsy. He’s still muttering under his breath when he reaches you.

“What was that?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow at him. “Certainly you’re not trash-talking your loving girlfriend, who’s trying to have a nice day of tree shopping with her ‘treat people with kindness’ boyfriend. Right?”

Harry goes silent, a deep frown etching itself onto his face. All you can see is the pouty crinkle of his eyes beneath the hood of his coat. “O’ course not,” he mumbles.

“You would never do that.”

Harry doesn’t say another word as the owner of the tree farm welcomes the two of you from inside a cozy wooden shack. Harry takes a saw and knee pad from the sweet old man with merely a nod of thanks. You roll your eyes at his lack of speech.

“C’mon,” you urge with a sigh, gripping his arm and dragging him through the snow to the many lines of trees. He trudged along beside you, swinging the saw back and forth, and suddenly you’re not so thrilled about him wielding the tool.

“Let’s get this one,” he says, stopping at the first tree the two of you pass. Your eyes turn to scan the spruce he gestures to and you can’t help but let out a scoff.

“Harry, you’ve got to be kidding.”

The miserable tree in front of you is missing entire patches of branches. Pine needles litter the snow around its base. The top of it curves off to the side, making the entire plant appear lopsided.

“Wha’? ‘S got character, yeah? Innit that what yeh’re always on about?”

“There’s a difference between character and just plain ugly, baby. I’m pretty sure this tree is dying.”

“Okay, fine. How long are yeh gonna make me walk around, though?”

“Until we find a good tree, Harry. For fuck’s sake.” You roll your eyes and let go of his arm, tromping ahead again.

“Tha’ gonna take long?” he yells after you. “The air’s hurtin’ m’face!” “Fucking wimp,” you mutter.

Harry follows you in silence for another few minutes as you scan trees. Finally, you find one that would look perfect where you picture it. You stop to test it’s branches and they’re quite strong.

“I don’ like it,” Harry says when he stops beside you.

“And why’s that, Harry?” you ask as you take a quick tour around the tree. “‘S too perfect. ‘S got no character.”

You turn to look at him and his eyes are serious. His hands are stuffed in his pockets, saw and knee pad clasped between his arm and torso. His face is buried in the front of his coat and his eyes are watering from the cold. 

“I suppose you’re right,” you say with a nod.

“Now this one,” Harry says, gesturing to the tree beside the one you’ve been looking at. “This one could work.”

You turn and laugh loudly. “Harry, it’s huge!”

“Yeah, it’ll look grand, don’ yeh think?”

“Maybe if we cut a hole in the ceiling. It’s too big, baby.”

“C’mon, love, we could squeeze her in.”

“We could absolutely not. We’d have to cut four feet off the top.”

“Then let’s do that!” His eyes are hopeful, but he’s being ridiculous.

“Harry,” you chide with another laugh, “it would look very stupid with half of it cut off. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He sighs and continues walking on, thoroughly disheartened. You kick up snow in your wake as you race to catch up to him and cling onto his free arm. He barely acknowledges your presence as he trudged along. You almost lose your balance when he stops suddenly, squeezing his arm to keep yourself upright.

“What is it?” you ask, turning to find him with his eyes locked on a tree.

“This one,” he whispers. You can barely hear him over the whistling wind. “This is it.”

You scan the tree and raise your eyebrows. It certainly has character. The trunk has a slight bend to it and there are a few bare patches. You move forward to test it’s branches.

“It’s sturdy enough,” you say, biting your lip. “Are you sure this is it?”

“‘S the one,” Harry confirms with a nod.

“Okay, then.” You reach for the knee pad and toss it to the base of the tree. “Get working Mr. Lumberjack.”

***

“Harry,” you breathe with a gasp. “Harry, pull over.”

“What?” He peers out your window and furrows his eyebrows. “Righ’ here? This grubby li’l place?”

“Harry, pull over!” you shout.

“All righ’, all righ’!” he yells back. “Christ.”

The two of you whip into the parking lot of a small trinket shop. You hang on tightly to the door handle.

“Thank you,” you say sweetly as he puts the car into park. You lean over the console to press a hard kiss to his cheek.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, getting out of the car.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and step out into the lot, closing the door carefully behind you. Your tree is strapped haphazardly to the top of the car.

Harry strolls ahead of you into the shop, not even bothering to hold the door open for you. You push inside to find him across the store already, filling up a cup with free, steaming hot chocolate. He brings the styrofoam container to his lips and yelps.

“Every fuckin’ time!” he nearly shouts. Everyone in the store turns to stare at him and you find yourself chuckling at his unfortunate luck.

“Maybe you should be more patient,” you tell him as you approach. “Let it cool down first.”

“‘M not a patient person,” he mutters.

“I’ve noticed.”

The store smells like spices and Christmas. Most of the shoppers are little old ladies. The room is split up into small cubicle-like spaces, each holding different types of trinkets.

“C’mon, grump,” you beckon, leading the way toward a stall packed full of ornaments.

“We need more ornaments?” he asks as he enters behind you.

“We’re missing some special ones,” you answer, reaching for a guitar-shaped ornament that resembles his own instrument. The one that Mitch gifted him.

“Woah,” he whispers, taking the decoration from your outstretched fingers. “‘S just like mine.”

“Mhmm,” you hum.

The two of you skim displays of ornaments. Harry doesn’t pick any up, but watches as you collect a few. A pair of skates, a miniature mug of hot chocolate, complete with marshmallows, a snowy tree to place on your own tree, and a fake frosted cookie.

“I get it,” he says, nodding. He takes a sip of his hot chocolate, which is now cool enough for him to drink comfortably. “‘S all stuff tha’ we’ve done. But what about the cookie?”

You turn to grin at him. “That’s still to come.” Then you lead him to check out.

***

Harry showers when you get home, despite your protests and reminders that baking is not a clean process.

“Was cold outside, but I was sweatin’ the whole way home in tha’ thick coat,” is his complaint. “Feel gross.”

Now, his hair is damp and he smells like soap and cologne. True to your words, his clean gray shirt is now coated in flour as he rolls out another batch of cookie dough.

“How come I have t’roll again?” he asks.

“Because you made me mix the dough all by myself,” you remind him. “That’s hard work.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters. “Don’ even want any cookies.”

“You will eat them and you will like them,” you command. All he does is roll his eyes. “That’s thin enough.”

Harry sets down the rolling pin and picks up a cookie cutter. He cuts out a snowman and flops it carelessly onto a cookie tray. You get the feeling that he’s not enjoying himself as much as you hoped.

“Let’s take a break from cutting,” you suggest, moving toward the oven as the timer goes off. You pull out the most recent tray of baked cookies and set it on top of the stove. Cooling racks along the counter are overflowing with cookies. Your hands ghost over the pastries and find that they’ve cooled sufficiently.

“Wha’re we doin’, then?” Harry asks, itching at his jaw with the back of his hand.

“Let’s frost some.” You move a cooling rack to place in front of him and reach for the bowls of different colored icing that you prepared while Harry was in the shower.

Your boyfriend doesn’t say anything as he picks up the knife from a bowl of blue frosting and smears it over a snowflake cookie. You cover your own sled-shaped cookie with pink icing.

“Are you not enjoying this?” you ask after another few minutes of frosting.

Harry sighs, setting down a green tree. “‘Ve told yeh, love. ‘M just—”

“Tired, yeah,” you interrupt. “I know. It’s exhausting for me that I have to be excited enough for the both of us, though.”

“‘M not tryin’ t’be unexcited.”

You hum and set your most recent cookie down, reaching out to swipe a glob of frosting onto his cheek. Harry clenches his jaw and sets his own cookie down.

“I just washed m’face,” he whines.

“It’s frosting, Harry. I can lick it off, if you’d like.”

Your tongue finds his cheek before he has time to protest. He groans and tries to pull away, but your hand finds the other side of his face, trapping him.

“Tha’s bloody gross,” he complains. You can feel his face cringing beneath your mouth as you lick away any remainders of icing.

“You’re such a grouch.” You pull away and he wipes at his wet cheek with the back of his hand.

“You weren’t just slobbered on,” he retorts.

“Why is it only gross when my spit is on your face, huh?”

“Dunno what yeh’re on about.”

“Sure.” Your lips find the crook of his neck. True to your words, he doesn’t pull away, even as your tongue peeks out to swipe at his skin. Instead, he hums, a deep, throaty sound that makes your throat constrict. You leave a trail of soft pecks up to the line of his jaw. Harry wraps his arms around you and tilts his head to press a long kiss to your lips

“I love you,” you whisper against his mouth. “Even when you’re miserable.”

“Mmm,” he hums in response. “Love yeh too. Even when yeh’re a nag.”

***

“Can’ see a fuckin’ thing,” Harry complains from behind the tree.

“Just keep walking straight,” you direct.

The tree has been out in the garage all afternoon, allowing the snow to melt. Now, it’s time to get it inside and in front of the window. Harry isn’t thrilled about the extra task, though.

“Okay, you’re almost there.” You guide Harry out of the hallway and into the living room. “About three steps to the left.” He follows your directions until the tree is in place, and then he steps back.

“Looks nice,” he comments.

“Was that something positive?” you ask, feigning shock.

“Ha ha.” Harry rolls his eyes as you reach into the box beside you and pull out a string of white lights.

“Get to work, Father Christmas.”

Harry sighs loudly and takes the lights from you. While you busy yourself by kneeling down to sort through a box of ornaments, Harry plugs in the string and begins to wrap it through the branches of your crooked tree. You find some of Harry’s childhood ornaments, and can’t help the grin the finds its way onto your lips. A picture of four-year-old Harry, wrapped up in Anne’s arms and cheesing for the camera, framed with ceramic candy canes.

“Jesus Christ, bloody fuckin’ hell!”

You spin around, dropping another ornament onto the carpet as your heart hammers in your chest.

“What?” you shout. Harry is dancing around the tree, still shouting and waving his arms around wildly. He looks like an amateur interpretive dancer, floundering his way through a heavy metal song.

“A bloody spider jumped out o’ the sodding tree!” he yells, throwing the lights onto the floor and running his hands up and down his arms. “Dunno if it’s still on me. Make sure it’s not on me!”

“Okay, okay,” you say calmly, struggling to stifle your laughter. You push yourself onto your feet and press your hands to Harry’s back, running them down the length of his shirt.

“‘S not fuckin’ funny, Y/N!” he snaps, running his fingers compulsively through his hair.

“I know,” you whisper, walking around to stand in front of him and scanning his clothes. “I don’t see it.”

“Great,” he mutters. “Now it’s in the house. Bastard’s gonna sneak up on me again.”

“I’ll protect you,” you assure him.

“With what? A bloody flamethrower? That thing was ginormous!”

You pick up the string of lights and hand them back to him, grabbing a cookie from the platter on the coffee table and stuffing it into his open mouth. “Stop complaining, okay? Let’s just finish decorating the tree and then I won’t ask you to do anything else.”

Harry grumbles something inaudible through his mouthful of cookie as you press a kiss to his cheek. He continues to string the lights while you go back to your box of ornaments. You see a small movement to your right and look to find a tiny spider crawling slowly along the edge of the box. Harry always has been overdramatic.

“How big was it?” you ask.

“Big-ass spider,” Harry answers. He continues around the tree and you roll your eyes.

With another glance at the little arachnid beside you, you nod. “I’m sure it was.”

Part 3: Christmas Snow and Mistletoe

[groovy-hottub-llama]

A House until a Home

Prologue: The Return.

 Title: A house until a Home Pairing: KakaSaku Rating: General (currently) Disclaimer: Characters and Naruto-verse not mine (unless OC character stated) Summary: Kakashi loses his home, has to find another, and also has to learn to live with a room-mate.

"Boss?"

 Kakashi pulls another twig out of his hair and examines it thoughtfully, in front of him Pakkun frowns. The folds of his forehead deepen at his master as the man continues to preen himself and look at the filth he's removed from himself with far too much interest.

"We've been here for an hour. Are you sure you don't want me to go ahead and call for some backup?"

The ninja pauses as he picks a leaf out of his hitai-ate and lets it go, watching quietly as it drifts to the floor. He grunts.

"Boss."

"No thanks, I'm good."

The pug snorts disdainfully.

"No Boss. You're not."

With a shake of his head Kakashi rises, dusting himself off and straightening up with a few clicks and creaks. Pakkun grimaces at the noises emanating from his master's body.

"You just fell down a cliff Boss."

"Rolled, Pakkun. Big difference."

The Ninken looks at the bedraggled man before him and shakes his head in despair.

"You can't be serious. Boss, you didn't land, you collapsed. Let me go get one of the border guards, at least they'll help you go in the right direction."

Kakashi pauses in re-organising himself and glowers at Pakkun with an affront that the pug chooses to completely ignore.

"There's nothing wrong with my sense of direction. You, Pakkun, are a worrywart."

The pug snorts in disgust and rolls his eyes.

"I'm going anyway. Stay put." He tosses the comment over his shoulder as he trots off into the undergrowth muttering away. "I hope that crazy one is at the gate. I'll get him to give the boss another piggyback. That'll fix the Boss's attitude. Tellin' me he doesn't need help."

There was a rustle behind him to his left, and then Kakashi appeared, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"That's an unkind thing to do Pakkun."

Pakkun grinds to a halt and turns to the man behind him with a snarl.

"Boss, you're injured, exhausted and concussed. Let. Me. Get. Help."

The ninja stands and observes his summon for a few moments. Pakkun remains silent, watching his master with growing concern as he starts to sway gently in the breeze. Moments pass and Pakkun continues to stare his master down. Eventually Kakashi nods, and steps forwards with a brief gesture to his hound to lead the way.

"Come on Boss. Gently does it." He says, walking along besides Kakashi.

Eventually they emerge from the woods and find the main track back to the village. Pakkun chuffs a sigh of relief and stops to let out a howl. Kakashi winces a little at the noise and Pakkun ignores it. They wait for a moment and from further down the track Akamaru appears, with Kiba hot on his tracks.

"Woah, Kakashi-sensei! You're alive!" Kiba makes to jump forward and embrace him, but Pakkun plants himself between them and growls in warning.

"Back off kiddo. Go grab Sakura, the Boss needs a doctor."

"Sensei?"

Kakashi waves and smiles at something over Kiba's shoulder. He turns to see what it is, and sees nothing.

"Is he okay?" Kiba asks. He gives Kakashi the side eye and Kakashi observes him with a vacant expression.

"Does it look like he's okay? If I wanted to waste time, kid, I'd have more luck with a cat."

Akamaru interrupts them with a short sharp bark and Pakkun turns his attention to him and nods with relief.

"Absolutely right. can you go and deal with this? It's like talking to an Uchiha summon."

Akamaru nods and nips Kiba on his calf as he darts past. Kiba snarls at his retreating partner and looks back toward the pug on the ground before him.

"So…he not all there or somethin'?"

"You could say that."

"Long mission huh."

"You could say tha-Boss! Don't wonder off. Kid, grab him-Gently! Gently." Pakkun guides the two men toward the gate carefully. "Be careful kid, his head isn't the only thing that isn't right."

Kiba holds Kakashi's elbow and steers him down the track slowly, as he keeps having to re-direct the man from weaving off the path.

"Come on Sensei."

Kakashi turns his head to look at the shorter man and frowns.

"What have you been rolling in this time?"

Pakkun bites off a laugh and Kiba growls.

"I could just leave you here, but it's not worth it when Sakura finds out."

"So?"

"I was sparring with mom."

The older ninja chuckles, and continues to do so right up until the gate where Akamaru had brought not Sakura, but Shizune.

The medic looks between both dogs and men before looking skywards.

"Is the laughter a symptom?"

"Nah, the kid just told us he got his tail beaten by his ma. The Boss is concussed, with the usual list of insults and injuries. It's the head wound that's trouble."

Shizune sighs again and grabs the other Jounin's chin, examining his eyes before letting go.

"Okay then. Kiba, help me get him to the H.O.S-Pie-T.A.L"

"What, the hos-" Shizune's hand smothered Kiba's mouth.

"We spell it. We can't afford to have 'happy-go-evasive-manoeuvers' make a break for it. This way."

____________________

[yellowninjaleopard]

Autumn winds chapter twelve: reignited

Autumns eyes flew open, she looked around, the cold brick walls created an unwelcoming vibe, she sat up clutching her chest, she looked at her hands, she then looked up, only to notice all the other kids where in the same cell, not their spirits but...Them, alive and well, nona was the first to hug Autumn,then bandy, both Crying, it was only then she noticed is wasn't just them but also frisk..Facing chara through the bars, chara then noticed autumn, as well as the rest, they all stood up, autumn went behind frisk and held her hand, [*quit being such an attention freak, nobody cares about you're personal problems, especially not people you kill, so just stop being such an old traditional geezer] frisk jumped but then said to chara "yeah stop saying that, it's kinda getting old" chara soon began to kick the bars as Frisk kept resetting, autumn soon stepped forward and looked chara dead in the eye [*you done yet? You big baby? Did you get everything out of your system?] Chara then realised they were practically throwing a tantrum, over what frisk was doing. Chara then said that they were the chosen one and that humans were vile creatures that need to die, autumn began to chuckle, making chara confused, the other just watched. [*Really..? The "chosen one"? That's just stupid who even told you that? Some nut? You're family? Or the humans that hurt you? I mean, what are you part of some old-timey sadist voodoo cult? Because if you ask me-] she clutches the bars, feeling her chest burn, she shook a bit, finally lifting her head to face chara, her eyes turn black with small hazel dots in the middle, a wide grin across her face [*-thats the biggest load of BULL-SHIT I've ever heard.] Frisk looked at autumn, pale, autumn had never in her life said something like that, she said the words were for losers, not only that, her voice sounded, distorted, as if, she was...Not herself. Chara stepped back a bit, slightly scared, but he then said "d-dont be nieve, all humans will die! I will-" Jodie butted in "you mean like how you left your HUMAN BROTHER to die?" Chara froze, no words escape, how...How could she have known..? Jodie grinned at chara's face "oh you mean that lil, family story that was passed down? Everyone knows that my great grandfather's brother was a maniac and tried to kill him, smashed his head against the table, and for what? A video game? Or something else?" Autumn smiled creepily [*You think all human are scum? Well, who said you were above them? Who said you were any different than them?] Chara was speechless. Frisk then said "we don't have to be enemies. Maybe we can help you, what do you want?, Actually, don't answer that." Autumn walked forward, her eyes still the same. [*You think because of what happend you, that you think you're suddenly god? You think you know what true monsters are.? Because in my opinion.] She lunged forward, her head tilted to the side as she clutched the bars, causing chara to fall back, autumn's eyes turn completely black and empty, like voids, her smile grows wider, black tears leak from her eyes, her mouth is pitch black inside, her head twitched slightly.

[*YOU DONT KNOW THE QUARTER OF IT. ]

Chara got up, shaking slightly, he then began to walk towards the door "wait! Chara! Nobody else has to die!" Said frisk, but chara left anyway, autumn's face formed back to normal, she rubbed her eyes, her other eye returned to its beautiful sky blue. [*Yeah! You better leave! You stupid pscyso cultist!! You better watch you're back evil creep! Cause we're gonna stop you! Villain!] Autumn was suddenly interrupted by someone hugging her from behind, she Turned in the persons arms, it was frisk, she was hugging her and shaking, autumn looked at her confused [*frisk?] Frisk looked up at autumn, remembering her last reset, she began to sob and cry loudly into autumn's shoulder and clutch at her clothes. "Yo-you jerk! Tha-that was so stupid!!! Wh-what would i d-do if you left me again?! You could've died!!!" Frisk sobbed, autumn then understood what frisk meant, her eyes flood with tears as she hugged frisk. [*Frannie...Frisky bits...It's ok.. shhhh... Shh shh..] The others then joined the hug, crying too, [*fran..guys..I...I.*hic sniff* i I'm sorry...I couldn't just let him kill you...I'm sorry..] frisk then spoke, turning her head from snuggling into autumn's chest, looking up at her. "You don't need to protect me that much, but i still need you, we're a team autumn, i need you now more than before, especially after what just happened, you're the only ones i have on my side." Frisk then snuggled into autumn's embrace to dry her tears, autumn then realised how much she'd missed frisks cuddles and hugs, she buried her face in frisks hair, tears falling freely, landing on frisks head, the others watch with tears in their eyes, frisk then pulls away, autumn cups her cheeks, frisk holds her hands, frisk stared into autumn's mismatched eyes, they seemed like two completely different worlds, one a calming shade of oak like hazel, the other like a crystal pool of water, "what was that autumn? You totally turned into a demon and said the bs word!" Asked bandy, autumn looked at bandy confused [*i did? Woah, don't tell my parents ok? Sorry i honestly don't remember that at all, all i know is that my chest hurt] frisk looked at autumn concerned, but then smiled, autumn let her go as she began to make a save point, but was interrupted by another voice

"you know, i never really liked them"

To be continued...

[*knowing that you're bond with frisk is getting stronger, fills you with COURAGE.]

[talesfromthelighterdarkside-blog]

“Tapeworm Removal Technician”

In HS I worked at a restaurant, and the list of characters was something else. I’ve had every job imaginable a kid can have.  This was my first foray  into the field of medicine. A medical battle against a vicious serpent. A buddy from the job, “T” and his family had recently visited his older brother in Guatemala. He was living pretty much living like everyone else did in the countryside. We’d always heard the horror stories of tapeworms and all other manner of gnar gnar diseases and ailments. T returned w/ even more terrifying stories his brother had witnessed. Right away, another bro on the job, “D” seemed genuinely freaked out and damn near obsessed w/ the whole tapeworm thing. He couldn’t stop asking questions.

“If your brother comes back w/ a tapeworm, I can’t catch it can I?” T’s response was typical, “You mean lasso it, and wrassle it out of his bunghole?” Laughter erupted, except for D. “Woah, hold on, that’s how they take it out?”   T and I made eye contact, both obviously thinking the same thing. I took over from there. “It’s the only way to remove it. Pills, nothing else works. Theres only one way to get rid of a tapeworm. It’s downright dangerous. Most doctors refuse to do it because it’s dangerous for patient and doctor. They can get up to 30 feet long, and if it bites you, you are F-U-K-T, FUKT. The only thing that can lure it out 100% of the time is a ham sandwich. No mayo or mustard, just bread and ham.”   D was buying every word of it. Later tha day, T and I came up w/ a strategy. “The long con is always the best. We gotta set this shit up tight.” For 17 y.o.’s, the long con means a week tops. Each day, T began to say he didn’t feel well, couldn’t get enough to eat and felt nauseous. It seemed like forever, but D Day finally arrived

T was a drama club dude, so he knew what to do. D and I were standing by the back door. Damn, even I was impressed when T walked in. Eyes all red and bleary like he’d been crying his balls off.  “Dude, what’s wrong” D asked, sincere concern in his tone. Fighting back tears, “Let’s go to the lair, they’ll fire me if they find out.” The Lair was a secret spot in the big walk-in fridge. “I just got back from the doctor. I’ve had a tapeworm growing inside me for months since we left Guatemala. Those assholes refuse to even take it out. WTF, it’s 16 ft. long, and they won’t do shit!”  After a few silent bro hugs, we turned to D. D was white as a ghost, and severely freaked out.   His rapid fire questions and anxiety only escalated, we knew we had to put him out of his misery soon. So, that very night, just after close, operation "Tapeworm Removal" was green-lit.

T announced he needed our help.  “In S. America they've got a foolproof way to solve the problem. It’s the only way. I wrote down all the steps, I need your guys help. Please, please. I'll pay you." D was having none of it. "Dude, no way. I'm not getting near that. I'd rather die than catch the Tapeworm. Hell no, un uhh." "Okay, will you at least be the look out? We're gonna have to do it in the Lair, but we can't have some waitress barging in there. Please?" "Okay, but i'm staying 15 ft away." T and I had prepped all the props earlier and hid em' in a bucket. 

At almost 11 pm, we got to work.  We laid out all our surgical instruments on a big tray and donned plastic food handling gloves. With everybody in position, we were off and running. D manned the Lair door, whipping his head back and forth. T dropped his trousers. With a long work t-shirt on, D couldn't see that I wasn't really looking at T's bare butt. "Okay, we'll only get once chance at this men. Lets make it count. Another bro in on the scam played nurse. Nurse, Ham Sandwich please." He slaps it in my hand like a nurse to surgeon handoff.  D looked like he was gonna puke or pass out. Probably puke and then pass out. His eyes were huge, and I swear, his carotid artery was thumping w/ fear and adrenalin.

We had taken a long piece of fettuccine noodle, put something on it that looked like blood  and stashed it in the folds of T's dropped khakis. T and I had been choreographing this play for days. “It’s moving, I can feel it. Oh shit. It’s totally moving. It can smell the ham.”  I dangled the ham sandwich back and forth. I interruped D at the door, all he could say was “fuk, fuk, fuk"  Okay, okay, I think its taking a peek, yep, it's coming, it's coming. Ohh shit, no fucking way. Ewwww. Tongs, stat, TONGS!" As T started to scream and squirm, "Hold still, hold still, OKAY, I got it. I got it!!" I picked up the long strands of bloody fettuccine noodles and joined T's screaming. Shaking the tongs to give the appearance the beast was alive and still battling back.

I'll never forget D's face as looked back before fleeing, in fast motion. Cartoon style. He was gone.  As we heard the back door slam, T and I finally broke character. "D's left the building, c'mon." He’d passed the Manager who'd heard the screaming, and walked in at the absolute worst moment. Just as T was pulling up his pants, w/ me standing right behind him. T pulled up his pants, and w/ no explanation for the wide-eyed manager, we took off in hot pursuit. I dropped the tongs and beast near the managers feet. D didn't stop running for a 1/4 mile. It took us 30 minutes to convince him it wasn't real, and he wasn't gonna catch the Tapeworm

Nobody's ever hit me so hard in the bony part of my upper arm. I had it coming. In fact, I was grateful he didn't blast me in the piehole and cost me a few chiclets. He didn't find it funny. Until we were almost back to the job, even he realized, it WAS pretty damn funny. Man, that's a quick turnaround. 

Upon our return, we had some splainin' to do. We knew it was pointless. “Just a little prank. No harm, no foul. Nobody lost an eye. No anal penetration.”  Within days, it had gone the late 80′s version of viral, in both of our HS’s, and every other franchise of the restaurant for 100 miles. Not exactly something you want to be famous for. “You’re the tapeworm guy!” Then again, I’ll take it. It’s a lot better than most of the shit we could’ve been famous for. Many more twisted, true tales to come. Until then, Stay Frosty, Stay Aerodynamic, and don't catch the Tapeworm.