dive bombing

Fun book facts about Stan Uris
  • He can bust out way funnier shit than Richie without even trying
  • He’s the first to deter It with the power of belief, and this helps inspire the later courses of action The Losers take against It
  • He loves bird-watching, and bonds with his father over it
  • It’s his idea to clean Bev’s bathroom, he actively walks into it and points to where he can see the blood so she knows she’s not crazy, and when they go to the laundromat to wash the rags they used, he insists on paying for it
  • He’s not reluctant to fight It because he’s afraid. At all. It’s a very strange, complex psychological issue related to being very ordered, perceptive of the world, and “adult”, and almost unable to except any of it is real, but it’s not cowardice.
  • He later makes It fuck off when It’s in the form of a giant bird dive-bombing them in the sewers by standing there screaming at It that no bird like that has ever existed and he doesn’t believe in It, then brushes it off with humility when the other Losers tell him he kicked ass
  • He’s implied to have a better understanding of It than the other Losers did for some reason, intermittent memories of their encounter even before Mike calls, and is theorized to have realized It was pregnant. This is implied to be why he commits suicide rather than go back to face It. He also displays some kind of sense of precognition
  • The chapter of his suicide is told from his wife’s PoV, and paints him as extremely kind, supportive, and loving
  • It was his idea to swear the blood oath in the first place, not Bill’s, and he cuts everyone’s palms (before briefly making a “joke” about slashing his wrists with the piece of broken bottle, which disturbs Bill so much that he almost makes a move on him because he seemed serious)
  • He’s the best love him god damn it
The things I have to DM

Context: running Rise of Tiamat (under 4e mechanics) and they finally get to Tiamat and about to engage in combat. The party consists of a tiefling fighter (Calamitus), a tiefling rogue (Lilith) a human turned tiefling monk (Grim) a human fighter (Corvo) and a genasi sorcerer (Katahm).

Me as DM: Okay. This is what you originally were waiting for so roll initiative. 

Corvo: Wait! I roll diplomacy.

Me: You what? Nevermind. Are you actually going to talk your way out of combat?

Corvo: Nope. Gonna seduce her.

Me: For the love of…fine. Roll.

Corvo: *rolls nat 20*

Rest of party: No!

Me: Hang on. Going to see if this is effective. *rolls d100* 99?!

Corvo: I’m starting to regret this. 

Me: Too bad. She shifts to her human form and dive bombs you to a bed in another plane. We don’t see you again for 33 minutes. 

And so we defeated Tiamat…with sex. 

anonymous asked:

Hh this week is so bad for focusing its almost the end of school?? Why do we have to work?? Anyways can u do some ADHD lance headcanons if its not too much of an inconvinience thank

bro I’m still basking in my summer I’ve been on break for like a month now. I love being a graduated senior

  • Lance can’t leave anything alone lol.
    • Bug bites? Scratch ‘em.
    • Friend looking down? Bother them until they tell you what’s up.
    • Button?
  • He’s a SKINNY BOY because of his meds. Very lanky. That’s why his jacket has so many pockets in it; he likes to pack snacks like he’s a paranoid squirrel in the middle of a Canadian winter.
  • Lance was GOD TIER in his Creative Writing class because his brain is able to conjure up the most off-the-wall entertaining metaphors so his writing was always fun to read.
    • He’s not too hot at poetry though, but he’s trying.
  • Lance in every math class: Why are they teaching us this?? It’s not like we’ll ever use it.
    • Lance, five minutes later, staring at vectors or some shit flashing across his windshield as he dive bombs during a simulation: Aw, man. 
  • Don’t get me wrong though, he’s still good at math. There’s something comforting about how there’s always an answer waiting for you at the end of the problem. So much of life is based on subjectiveness, or preconceived notions, but math? You just have to work hard enough and focus long enough to get your prize. And Lance has determination in spades, lol.
    • That being said he’s either like, zipping through a complex problem because he’s hyperfocusing like a goddamn champ, or he’s using his fingers to count out 5 + 6 because he can’t remember what numbers look like in his head. #Relatable
  • Lance can speedrun his mouth like a goddamn champ without even thinking. Hours later, when he’s alone and in the shower, everything he said suddenly floods back in and he’s just like Why Am I Alive.
  • When he was a kid, a lot of his symptoms were passed off as him being a rowdy boy. And yeah, Lance IS a Rowdy Boy, but he also… lost a lot of time because he wasn’t diagnosed and helped sooner.
    • Lance, age 16: Y’know… If I’d been diagnosed as a kid and gotten my accommodations sooner… I bet I would’ve gotten into Honors Math in the sixth grade.
    • Hunk: Dude.
    • Lance, teeth gritted: I could’ve gotten that science award.
  • He’s really, really bad at remembering to take his medication. I mean like, once he’s settled into a routine he’s fine because he takes them automatically, but if there’s any sort of disturbance to his schedule… lmao.
    • Person: How do you forget to take your meds??
    • Lance: Well, the funny thing is, I take my meds to remember to take my meds. So you can kind of see how this can be a problem. Asshole.
  • Lance: Okay guys, let’s play a fun game called ‘Am I Zoning Out Because Of My Meds, or Is It Dissociation Hour?’
    • Pidge: This doesn’t sound fun at all.
    • Lance: Yeah well imagine living it!! lol
Things my family has said but with Voltron #3

Lance: ugh, I’m full up of chips.

Shiro: all right. Do you want any more?

Lance: one more please.

-

*barking in the distance*

Shiro: *walks in* Keith is barking at the post man again.

Allura: so that’s what that was

-

*Allura and Shiro are sitting on the sofa*

*howling from upstairs*

Shiro: oh my god is that a dog?!

Allura: nope that’s Keith.

-

Lance: so what’s your favourite song?

Keith: who says by Selena Gomez

Lance: oh. I thought it’d be something, I don’t know, heavier?

Keith: Selena is a goddess

Lance: True

-

Hunk: IT IS MY TURN ON THE LAPTOP!

Pidge: NO IT ISNT ITS STILL MY TURN!

Hunk: YOUVE HAD IT FOR AN H O U R

Pidge and Hunk: A L L U R A!

-

Lance: I am officially dead inside, look I even have a badge! *holds up piece of paper with ‘officially dead inside’ written on it*

Shiro: can I have one?

-

*Pidge and Lance are playing that game where you have to try not to let the balloon touch the ground*

Pidge: LANCE GET IT!

Lance: *dive-bombs and misses*

Pidge: *looking down on him* you’re a disappointment.

-

Next one with be Friend Edition (my friends are insane but I love them)

I'll Always Write Back [Connor Murphy x Reader]

Title: I’ll Always Write Back

Pairing: Connor Murphy x Reader

Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen

Requested: by the lovely @the-murphy-family

Summary: Connor and the reader are friends online, but then find out they’re neighbors too. The reader is homeschooled, so she has no way of hearing the rumors about him. They become best buds and hang out with each other everyday and eventually fall in love

A/N: This was waaaayyy longer than I wanted it to be, so my apologizes in advance. Thanks again to @the-murphy-family for such a fantastic prompt, I’m sorry I rushed the exposition so much. I had so much fun writing this! (If you aren’t already following their blog, I highly suggest it).

Warnings: Connor’s potty mouth | First person reader | Fighting Murphy siblings

It was almost bedtime by the time I’d messaged him. I hadn’t planned on it, by any means. We talked after I’d finished my lessons for the day–he’d skipped school, I saw, which I always thought was off considering his mother was home.

I’d changed into my pajamas–just an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts–and had begun to tuck myself into bed when I saw him.

He’d left his blind open tonight, and through the window screen I could see him silhouetted perfectly, all the lights in his room blazing. It was nearing 9:30, so I wasn’t too shocked to find he was still awake. The houses were so close together on this side of town and, from the second story window, there was nothing but a four yard distance between our windows–and a drop nearly twice that length.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring straight ahead, giving me a view of his profile, the sharp angle of his jaw, the thin slope of his nose, and the hard jut of his adam’s apple.

 What startled me enough to give pause was the fact he was unnervingly still, unblinking, staring at something I couldn’t see. He wasn’t working on homework or painting his nails or playing that silly candy crush game on his phone. He was just staring.

Too far away for me to make out his expression, I instead rolled over onto my bed, clicking the lights back on and pulling out my phone, opening up the Chat app we used on the daily.

To: Connor
From: Me

What’s up, buttercup?

I wished I could see him–there were certainly nights we sat by the window and messaged back and forth, but starting out that way would mean he knew I saw him lost in whatever pensive state he’d been in, which more often than not would mean he’d be less than willing to talk. In my lap, my phone buzzed to life.

From: Connor
To: Me

Isn’t past your bedtime or something? 

I snorted, starting my own reply before:

From: Connor
To: Me

Are you having trouble sleeping again?

Swallowing thickly, I immediately replied:

To: Connor
From: Me

No, I’m fine. Just bored, checking to see if you were too :)

I tried to wait, give Connor a moment to compose whatever turmoil he’d been sitting in before I asked how he felt, otherwise I’d get a swift ‘okay’ and the conversation would take a dive bomb south at ridiculous speeds.

From: Connor
To: Me

If it’s nudes you’re looking for, sorry to disappoint, but I’m not in the mood tonight, kiddo

I choked, lunging forward in the bed to muffle my embarrassing squawk into my fist. Thank goodness my bed was out of sight of the window, or I’d have to watch Connor chortling at my less than appropriate reaction to his less than appropriate joke.

Connor and I had only been talking for about two months now, after I’d moved out here five months ago. Well, we’d been talking for nearly the entirety of the five months, but I’d only realized it was Connor not all that long ago.

To: Connor
From: Me

Oh no, whatever will I do without seeing your sculpted, rock-hard abs??? ;)

From: Connor
To: Me

Shut up, jerk off

I cackled into my fist, careful to not wake my siblings that slept in the next room over. It had taken a large amount of time to get used to Connor’s rather blunt personality, to put it pleasantly.  He’d always been candid, of course, ever since the first contact I’d had with him on the Chat app (“You swear you aren’t a pedophile, right? Or my dad? That’d be weird as fuck.”) and it had been thrilling to be with someone so open and ready to talk about things. The way he felt. The things he thought. The fact he was afraid.

We didn’t exchange photos for a long time–and I’d never seen Connor outside the house, other than the on and off times he’d flit across his bedroom window like a haunt, never knew his name–but the second his photo flashed on my screen, I knew. Even in the photo he hadn’t been smiling, the same stoic countenance he always wore.

He’d recognized my photo immediately, and had been less than thrilled. It took convincing–a lot of me showing up at the fence between our yards, very nauseous, promising it hadn’t been a mean joke–but he came around.

From: Connor
To: Me

You sure you’re good? You’re quiet

I smiled softly at my phone screen. It was a rare night when Connor had enough energy to be so concerned about others–it wasn’t his fault, I knew, he was just in a bad spot right now. The fact he could consider my feelings for more than a few moments felt remarkable, flattering. But, most importantly, it meant he was doing okay.

To: Connor
From: Me

I’m fine, pls don’t worry :)

To: Connor
From: Me

Are YOU okay?

From: Connor
To: Me

I’m fine, chill out

I rolled my eyes, unsurprised. Deflect and distract, his usually strategy.

From: Connor
To: Me

Can’t see you rn


From: Connor
To: Me

Come to the window

I sat up quickly, going over to shut out the light to blur my image to him. Combing my messy hair with my fingers, I tugged on my oversized shirt so that it covered my mostly exposed legs before throwing open the window and leaning out.

Connor, across the way, had already thrown his window open and was halfway leaning out, his face scrunched in confusion. He tapped something out on his phone, pausing every so often to tuck back the dark locks falling into his face. His other arm was braced on the window ledge, the sleeve of his hoodie pushed up to expose his bare forearms to moonlight, glowing a soft snow hue in the dark. My phone buzzed as he glanced back up at me with an open expression.

From: Connor
To: Me

Turn on the light, dumbass, I can barely see you

I smiled up at him, putting my phone aside to shake my head ‘no’. He frowned, slumping down a little more against the window, his chest pressed to the ledge, before holding his arms up in a 'why not?’ and flipping me the bird.

I typed out a quick response to let him know that my parents thought I was asleep. I watched him read the text, watched his eyebrows furrowed over his deep-set slate eyes, saw him frown, heard him swear under his breath. I bit back a chuckle as he carded his hand through his hair in frustration several times.

I vaguely wondered why this made so little sense–most of our conversation up to this point had been centric of me, but Connor was visibly frustrated (not that he wasn’t frequently) and earlier he’d seemed much to absent to not be upset about something. My phone buzzed to life, casting a blue glow across my face, and I saw Connor’s face stretch in recognition, pleased to make out my expression in the dark.

From: Connor
To: Me

Meet me in the pool house

My heart jackhammered in my chest at the thought of it–sneaking out. He was crazy, he had to be. He knew my parents would murder me for being up this late, let alone sneaking out, and worst of all, meeting a boy.
Not just a boy. Connor.

I felt him watching me from across the divide, at the edge of my vision and could make out where he leaned against the window, propped up on his elbows and head in his hands, hair hanging in his face. Glancing up, meeting his stony gaze, I nodded.

It was immediate, earning a reaction from him. Biting back my chuckle, he scrambled up from where he kneeled against the window ledge, his whole face smiling as he ran from his window without looking back. He was already standing in his backyard, waving wildly before I’d even departed from the window.

I decided against redressing or doing my hair–Connor was waiting and the quicker I got out there the quicker I got back without alerting my parents to my absence. Besides, it was probably too dark in the pool shed for Connor to make out my bare face and frizzy hair anyway, let alone the hair on my legs and the stretch marks on my thighs. As if Connor had the nerve to look to begin with, I snorted.

Sneaking out was surprisingly easy, and Connor had left the gate cracked just enough for me to slip in between. The door to the pool shed–just a small building, hardly smaller than my bedroom, at the edge of the yard–was slightly ajar, and I saw quick movements coming from inside.

Once in the doorway, clicking the door shut behind myself, I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me.

“Connor?” I called, spinning in the dark so that my back rested against the door, ready to exit if necessary. My eyes searched the dark frantically–in vain. There was a small window, vaguely fogged from years of neglect that allowed a slim moon beam to shine in on a small pile of towels and blankets, a little bean bag chair. Connor had told me not too long ago he and Zoe hadn’t played in here for years, which meant it held secrets long forgotten by either of the Murphy children. I felt honored to be inside it.

“Hey,” he breathed, and though I could see him, I recognized his soft voice just to the right side of me, breathy and soft. It’s too dark to make him out, and I noticed he’s careful not to touch me, but I can feel his breath against my ear, warm despite the fact it’s chilly for a June night. I felt goosebumps pimpling along my legs, making the hair stand up on end. I silently thanked the universe for giving me the gift of darkness to veil myself in.

“Feels like it might rain,” I sighed, turning toward the sound of him, the warmth. My bare arms brushed something–maybe cotton, maybe not–but it pulled back immediately away from me, accompanied by a quick intake of breath.

“Christ, don’t talk about the weather,” Connor hissed into the dark, a hard thunk resonating through the shed where he must have leaned his head against the wall, a bit too forcefully. How very Connor of him. “That’s the kind of shit my dad says in the car when he acts like he’s uncomfortable to be near me for more than ten minutes at a time.”

“Sorry,” I muttered, leaning away, and turning to gingerly pick my way across the shed–it was getting late now and I was already beginning to get tired. Connor may be able to stay up until the early morning hours, but I definitely couldn’t be trusted to be awake at eleven.

“Fuck, don’t be sorry, I just meant–shit,” he growled, and I heard another sharp pang against the steel inside of the shed–he’d hit something with his fist, if the metallic clink of what I assumed to be his ring against the sheet metal was any indication.

I stumbled my way to the beanbag chair, collapsing, and letting myself sink into. It smelled a little like chlorine and sun-in hair dye, but it was soft and warm, almost the size of a double bed. I wiggled upright, squinting again to see Connor in the dark now that I took up the only patch of moonlight in the building.

“You aren’t feeling alright, are you?” I asked softly, resting my cheek against the faux suede of the chair, struggling to keep my eyes open. There was a pause.

“That’s not why I asked you over,” he sighed in his tennor, stomping across the room, picking his way, until he flopped down beside me, displacing the insides of the chair and nearly rolling me out of it.

He reached forward with another soft swear, grabbing my shoulder blades to yank me back onto the bean bag bed, rolling me close so that I wouldn’t fall again. I laughed, unsure what was so funny–maybe it was the fact I’d nearly catapulted out of the chair due to all five pounds of Connor “Ribcage” Murphy, or the current situation, my face pressed against the soft cotton of his hoodie, his heartbeat steady and strong against my cheek. I didn’t move away.

To my surprise, Connor didn’t move away either, just kept both arms wrapped around me, hands firmly in place of my scapula as if scared to dip any lower. I felt the dip of his chin against my temple, felt his lips against my scalp.

“Aren’t you freezing?” He whispered, rubbing quick circles between my shoulder blades.

“Quit dodging my question, Con,” I hissed, beginning to pull away before Connor tightened his grip–surprisingly strong for a boy with such lithe wrists.

“But you are cold,” he muttered, slipping one hand down from my shoulder to my bare arms, rubbing in quick patterns there, attempting to make some sort of friction between us.

God, my parents would kill me if they saw me now.

I want to he clear I wasn’t under any pretenses–this wasn’t, er, Connor hadn’t called me out here so that we could, well–

“I’m fine, Connor,” I promised, taking advantage of the moment to fold my arms against him, trapping them between the heat of our bodies, letting my cheek rest idly against his chest. Connor didn’t like me, I knew, but in the dark shed…well, it was easy to pretend.

It was always easy to pretend to be someone else with Connor.

“You wanna talk about what’s going on with you right now?” I said with a false bravado, thumping his chest lightly with my fist. “You can’t hide anything from me, Connor Murphy. I know you too well.”

“You don’t know anything, dumbass,” he grumbled half-heartedly, and I felt him lean forward to press his face into my hair. “You don’t know shit.”

“So you’re lying to me?” I baited with a smile, tapping his chest, feeling his frustrated sigh and rewarding him with a light laugh. “I didn’t think so. I’m here for you, you know.”

“I know,” he growled, sighing heavily, taking one hand off my back to push his hair away, before letting me go entirely to roll onto his back. His thin fingers covered his face, the black fingernails scratching frustratedly against his pale face. “I just–I don’t, I don’t know how to–shit.”

I leaned forward to tap his chest again, letting him know I was here. “Just talk it out. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

He shocked me by reaching forward with one hand, knotting his fingers with my own and letting them linger against his chest. I was grateful he couldn’t make out my expression from his position, grateful for the fact he couldn’t feel my face flush. I’d never been this close with a boy in my life, and Connor knew that. He wasn’t being fair, and I was sure he knew that too.

Unless he didn’t. Connor had a bad habit of selling himself short. I bit back the urge to press a kiss to his bony knuckles.

“I know,” he whispered, voice suddenly hoarse. He was worse than I thought. “Um, it’s harder now? I guess. I trust you–I mean, I always trusted you. It’s um, it’s harder because the anonymity is gone, I guess? I’m worried now that you know who I am–what I am–you’re gonna get bored of me?”

I didn’t laugh this time. His voice was thick and rapid as if he couldn’t hold back the word vomit, like he’d been holding it back for a while. My own throat felt thick, and I couldn’t contain the guilty feeling in my stomach. I rolled forward, wrapping my arms around his thin waist, feeling his hip bone press against mine sharply. I was careful not to look at his face–it’d shut him down for sure.

“Connor…I need you just as much as you need me, you know that right?” I whispered, trying too hard not to let him hear the panic in my voice.

“I know,” he rasped shallowly, sounding oddly wet. He was crying, I realized stupidly. My heart constricted in my chest, my stomach dropping. He was in pain and I had barely noticed. This was all my fault.

“And even if I didn’t need to vent, if I didn’t need your support, I’d still talk to you because I like you, Connor. You’re my friend. You’re a good person,” I whispered.

“Shut up.”

“You are,” I continued. “You’re a great person and you’re always looking after me, even when you’re hurt. I’m so sorry you’re hurting, Connor, I’m so sorry I didn’t notice–”

“I’m not hurting! Shut up!”

“Shhhh,” I hushed, sitting up to remind him to be quiet. “You’re parents are gonna–”

His face was red. His nose and lips were swollen, wet, and his cheeks, flecked with silver freckles glowing lightly in the moonlight beam he laid in, and there were tear tracks running from the corners of his eyes.

“Connor,” I cried softly, reaching up to wipe his cheek. “Please–”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he sobbed wetly, hands folding up to cover his face. “Just fucking get out, okay? This was a mistake.”

“Hey, hey,” I soothed frantically, reaching up to pet his hair, hoping that it might make him unfold himself. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong. I’m gonna help, Connor, whatever you need. I want to help you, please.”

“I’m not your responsibility, kid, okay? You can leave. Stop looking at me, Christ.”

“No,” I sighed. “Look, if you don’t wanna talk, that’s okay. That’s okay. Just, let me stay, okay? I’m not judging you, I’m not gonna leave, I promise. I’m here for you. Let me be your friend.”

He shook underneath me, holding in sharp sobs. I wondered how long it’s been since he let himself fall apart like this, let himself have some kind of catharsis, let himself feel, period.

This relapse was good. It was under control. I was here. I had him.

“Okay,” he whispered finally, reaching up to tangle his hands in my hair. “Christ, just–don’t tell anyone, okay? Don’t laugh.”

“I won’t,” I promised. “I’m not. I’m here, okay? You don’t have to talk.”

“Okay. Okay…thanks.”

I might have imagined it, as I lowered my head back to his chest, might have imagined in between the soft presses of his fingers as they moved in and out of my, might have imagined, just briefly, the feeling of his lips pressed against my hair.

———-

The next morning was awkward. My parents and siblings showed no knowledge of the fact I’d snuck out to see Connor last night–it wasn’t as if they weren’t aware we were friends, to my parents chagrin and the Murphys’ delight, but I didn’t need them to think we were involved in some sort of torrid tryst, especially one we weren’t even having.

I left a few hours after Connor had slowly ceased his wet and much needed lament and his breathing had turned into a soft snore. I untangled myself from his arms, and leaned back for awhile to watch him sleep, tried to ignore how angelic he looked, red faced and weepy with silver freckles glowing mutely in the patch of moonbeam.

I’d sent him a quick text to let him know I wanted to return before my parents woke up, let him know I’d be by the next day. Told him to  message me if he wanted to talk again.

Now I was waiting for my mother to finish grading my papers for the day so I could to see Connor, who didn’t have school today thanks to some silly teacher institute, lucky loser. The American school system was a joke, to be quite honest.

“You’re jumpy,” my mother noted, scribbling something in the margins of my paper without looking up at me.

“I was gonna ask if I could go over to the Murphy’s? I haven’t talked to Zoe in a long time,” I asked sheepishly, scratching at my arm.

“And Connor, hmm?” My mother hummed thoughtfully, giving a smirk to my workbook.

“Connor’s cool,” I said honestly, nonetheless feeling a guilty lump rise in my throat.

“He’s a good boy,” she mused. “He always helps me with groceries if he’s outside.”

“Which is never,” muttered one of the younger kids, earning a kick under the table from me. My mom just smiled softly.

“Go ahead, honey. Call if you’re going to be longer than an hour.”

I thanked her, nearly sprinting out the door, my twin braids slapping against my back as I skipped between the yards. Zoe was at the door before I knocked, leading me into the kitchen, announcing me loudly in a way that would’ve earned a talking to at my house.

Cynthia appeared in the doorway, looking radiant, albeit a bit tired. Her face smiled brightly at me.

“Honey! It’s so good to see you, it’s been so long since you’ve stayed for dinner–Larry, tell Connor she’s here!–Zoe’s missed you, you should stay the night, right Zoe?–Larry, call Connor–Would that be alright with your parents? Stay for dinner then stay the night? I can run out and rent some movies and snag a pizza–Larry!

Zoe just rolled her eyes, yanking me down the steps past her mother and into the basement. Her grip on my arm was vice like, almost painful and definitely excessive. Her pretty red hair blew up in my face, making the already dark room even harder to see through the haze of her auburn locks. She practically shoved me onto the couch, following me by slamming down beside me.

“Zoe–”

“I saw you last night.”

My pulse hammered in my throat, and I felt all the blood rush swiftly to my face, making me dizzy.

“What?”

“I saw you. I told Mom. I don’t think Dad–”

“What do you mean?” I gasped, throwing my hands between us. Zoe blinked rapidly.

“You and Connor. In the shed. Last night. Christ, it was only ten, you could’ve been sneaky about it–”

“Zoe, we didn’t do anything,” I pleaded. God, if the Murphys knew, they’d tell my parents–

“You don’t really expect me to believe that, do you?” She sighed, pushing her hair back out of her eyes. “Whatever, okay? You don’t have to tell me, I don’t give a shit as long as you aren’t pregnant. Just–because you’re my friend, I want you to know some things. Are you gonna listen?”

I thought better than to argue with Zoe, so I nodded shyly.

“Look, I know you and Connor are friends. That’s fine, whatever. But you don’t see Connor at school. You don’t see Connor here, not really. Not what he’s like when you aren’t here.”

I felt my heart constrict. She was going to try to convince me to stop talking to Connor.

“He’s mean. You don’t think it’s weird you’re his only friend? He’s a bully. He’s lazy. He’s violent, Christ–he’s my brother, I love him. But you shouldn’t…you shouldn’t take him seriously, okay? One day his temper is gonna flip and you’re gonna be in his way.”

I blinked, stunned that Zoe would say something so slanderous about her own brother.

“I don’t understand,” I said softly, staring across at her. It was no wonder Connor was so upset, why he had to reach out to strangers on the Internet to vent. His own home was a war zone.

Zoe sighed heavily. “You aren’t at school. You don’t hear the rumors. You don’t see the things he does. If you wanna be friends, fine, but…be careful. I wouldn’t let him anywhere near your heart.”

I didn’t argue with Zoe–I thought better of it. So I just nodded.

“Thanks for, um. Thanks for the warning,” I said with a thick voice, struggling to maintain sincerity.

“You’re welcome,” she sighed. “Mom thinks you’re dating. She’s over the moon. It’s disgusting.”

“I thought you thought we were dating,” I pried, raising an eyebrow. Zoe rolled her eyes, hitting me with a deadpan expression.

“As if Connor could ever get someone like you. As if Connor could even feel something remotely close to love–I’m half convinced his chest is an icebox,” she laughed dryly.

“Talking about me, are we?”

We both spun, wide eyed to see Connor on the stairs, arms folded.

“No, go ahead, I’ll wait. I love hearing stories about myself. Tell me again Zoe about how I’m in love with her?” He hissed, making my face burn red in shame. I felt awful for letting Zoe talk about him that way–worse because Connor made it painful clear he didn’t reciprocate any feelings I might’ve had for him.

Wait. I didn’t have feelings. Connor was a friend. A good friend. A friend who needs me and who doesn’t deserve to be taken advantage of, not until he’s okay. Not ever.

“Never said that,” Zoe said with a smirk, rising from the couch gracefully. “But keep digging your grave, it’s fun to watch.”

“Fuck you,” he growled.

“Fuck you,” she grinned. “I’d love to watch your train wreck love admission, Titanic is on, and at least that story has a happy ending.”

Connor kept a white knuckled grip on the banister as she passed, as if holding in an urge to push her. He kept his blazing eyes downcast, and noted his pale cheeks were burning red.

“What’d she tell you?” He whispered once the door slammed.

“Nothing true,” I promised, leaning forward on the couch to make room for him, patting the seat beside me. “Nothing that changed my mind.”

His head snapped up, and I watched his expression go from rage to disbelief to awe before he descended the stairs, shaking. He stopped before the couch, as if scared to come near me, staring down in awe.

“What did my mom say to you?”

I shook my head. “Not much. She asked if I could spend the night. Only if you want me to, though.”

He laughed, but the smile didn’t quite reach his face. “Only if I want you to, Christ, where did I find you?”

“The Internet,” I reminded, earning another laugh.

“Of course I want you to,” he sighed, finally coming to sit beside me. “Of course I want–”

He cut himself off, surprising me, before slinging an arm around my shoulder. I stiffened, but eventually melted against him, reminding myself that it was just Connor.

“You wanna watch a movie? I hear they’re playing Titanic or something.”


——

It’s two am when I wake up, taking a quick mental assessment of where I am. There’s a soft blue glow burning my eyes, shining over what appears to be a nest of blankets piled roughly on the floor.

The Murphy’s basement, I realized with a jolt, I’m just at the Murphy’s.

I’m in a pair of Connor’s pajamas–Zoe’s clothes don’t quite fit me right–an oversized black shirt and a pair of sweats Cynthia brought down in a laundry hamper. My braids have long since come loose, the desperate curls tangling wildly around my head.

Beside me, Zoe is snoring, almost comically, every so often a nostril whistles in time to the soft sound of Dexter’s Lab playing on the tv.

There’s a hand, dangling just above my head. The pale fingers were curved artistically, the nails too short as if they’ve been bitten recently and the black nail polish chipped hopelessly. It’s attached to an arm, long and thin, almost angular, and up farther is a shoulder, bare, pressed against a red coffee stained couch.

Connor.

“You’re awake,” he whispered in a conspiratory voice, but when I sat up to make contact, there’s no sly smirk. He’s frowning. “You are having trouble sleeping.”

I shook my head. “Stop worrying about me, Connor.”

“No,” he rasped, sitting up on the couch. I avoided looking too long at his bare chest, but regardless indulged nonetheless.

“You haven’t been sleeping,” I noted, coming to sit by him on the couch. He immediately opened the blanket, giving me room to slide in beside him, before throwing it around both of us so we could settle back against the couch. His bare skin was warm, and I let him take both my hands between his, letting him rub my hands between his in an attempt at some warmth.

“Been thinking too much,” he sighed softly. “Don’t worry about it.”

I swallowed, beginning to feel the effects of sleeplessness and helplessness melt together in a fatal concoction.

“I can’t help if you don’t let me, Connor,” I reminded him, pressing closer. “Let me help. What are you thinking about?”

He leaned away, as if I’d burned him, dropping my hands into his lap and looking away, the thin muscle of his cheeks hollowing as he clenched his jaw. “Can’t say.”

“Connor,” I pleaded. “Please let me help. I want to. I’m begging.”

“No,” he growled. I felt tears beginning to build, to my own horror, behind my eyes.

“Connor, can you just–”

You.”

It was an explosion. We both froze, turning in horror to glance at Zoe, waiting to breathe until we heard the soft whistle of her nose again. I turned slowly, terrified back to Connor. His eyes were wide, and if I didn’t have my fingers wrapped around his knee, I swore he might try to run.

“Me?” I asked softly, careful not to wake Zoe. Connor pursed his lips, his jaw twitching nervously.

“Fuck, yes, you, just–shit, I didn’t wanna say that–”

I leaned away, watching Connor’s face contort farther.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered heatedly. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong. You want me to go, right? I’m really sorry, Connor–”

“What?” He nearly yelled. “You think–fuck.”

His head ducked, to my great surprise, against my shoulder, pressing his face into the crook of my neck and, of all things, began to laugh.

“Connor–”

“You think–Christ, it’s like you aren’t even real. You think I’m mad at you?”

He pulled away, his face no longer red or swollen, just smiling softly at me, almost awe struck, and staring intently with his slate eyes.

“I…I’m not sure?” I whispered, but not feeling at all nervous when Connor snaked his hands gently up my arms again.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered suddenly, shocking me. “And you have no idea that you’re perfect. Christ.”

I frowned. “Connor. I don’t…I don’t think I understand.”

But he was still looking at me–eyes scanning slowly over my face, landing suddenlyhalf-lidded on my lips, and it suddenly all clicked into place. Why Zoe would warn me. Why Cynthia acted the way she did. Why Connor was so scared in the first place.

I remember Zoe saying how over the moon Mrs. Murphy was at the idea of Connor and I dating–because that meant Connor would have me. It meant Connor would be happy.

It meant I would have Connor.

It was like a sudden dam had broken open inside me, filling me with more revelations as Connor’s hands lifted to cup the back of my head, his eyes soft, scared, and asking as they met mine. I let a quick exhale before I surged forward, slamming out mouths together much too forcefully, and not at all enjoyably.

I laughed–much too loud–but Connor kept back to the task at hand, his eyes closed in concentration, swallowing my outburst and folding me against his (very, very bare) chest and kissing me deeper, slower. It was painfully obvious he didn’t know what he was doing, but so much about the kiss was still tender and important, warming me from my core outward until I was scratching to wind my arms around him, getting him as close to me as I possibly could, kissing back to make sure he knew how much I wanted this. How much I wanted him.

How much I needed him. Anything he needed, I’d give him. Now and forever and–

“If you two are gonna fuck, can you do it in the bathroom or something? I’m trying to sleep.”

Connor and I pulled apart–causing me to stumble backwards against the arm of the couch gracelessly and staring at Zoe as she rolled over with her back to us.

I dared a peek back at Connor, whose lips were pink and wet despite their dry skin splitting with the force of his wide, wide smile.  His eyes were glowing brightly, almost burning as he raked them over me. The flannel blanket was pooled behind his back where it had been wrapped around us, and he just simply opened his arms again, inviting me back. His pale chest–pock marked with freckles, clusters on his ribs–was striped with pink lines from where my fingers had raked in a desperate attempt to give him validation.

I crawled forward, pressing my face against his neck in a hazy attempt to bring my breathing back to a normal speed.

“You okay?” I asked, running my fingertips over his shoulders, fighting the urge to word vomit an unholy collection of questions about who and what we were. Connor Murphy, post kiss. Connor Murphy, still life, smiling with wet, swollen, bloody lips. Connor Murphy standing at the edge of happiness, jumps over the ledge.

He nodded against me, fighting with his own dark curls where they made an attempt to cloud my cheeks in an adoring way. Cute, I decided.

“Okay? I’m,” he sighed, laughing and wrapping his arms around me to squeeze tightly. “I’m…you have no idea.”

“Better than nudes?” I teased. He snorted, embarrassed.

“I’m positive. Although–”

I hit him.

“Okay, kidding! Jeez…” he pulled away, cupping my face lightly, pushing the hair back out of my eyes like I was a child. It felt fantastic, he was right, as I searched through the galaxies in his eyes, his pale skin illuminated by the hazy blue glow of the television. It felt so far past amazing, being held like I was the only person he knew how to see. He cleared his throat, and I saw his eyes were brimming with an emotion I couldn’t name.

“You, uh,” he laughed nervously under his breath. “You have to know I love you.”

It was a startling blow, knocking all the air out of me and forced a bubbling laugh to fly out of my lungs. Connor’s smile wavered slightly, so I popped up to press a soft kiss to the cleft of his chin.

“I know,” I sighed, giddy with the realization it was true. “I know. And you know I trust you more than anyone. You know I love you.”

It was like watching him crack open, the way all the uncertainty was cleared from his face, a wave of joy and triumph.

“You love me?” He asked so softly, so awestruck, I felt my heart shake in my chest. I’d barely started to nod before he surged forward to kiss me again, small and chaste pecks across my face and neck, the bridge of my nose, my temples.

He was okay. We were okay. We were going to be just fine.

Tom Holland Imagine (prompt)

prompt: 54. “I think I forgot how to breathe.”

25. "Shut up and kiss me.”

request: Hello! Assuming that request are open- could you maybe do a tom imagine? Where the reader is Harrison’s little sister (by like 2 years?) and she’s always been that really dorky annoying younger sibling, and tom hasn’t seen her in awhile because of his career. But she visits harrison while they’re in Atlanta and she grew up rlly well (yanno what I mean?) and Tom is just ???? How ??? With a fluffy ending? It’s super cheesy but I’ve been thinking about this a lot haha

a/n: i merged two of the requests i had in my ask, so i hope this is okay. i’ve low key been day dreaming about this imagine for the past three days, like this is the dreeeeeam lol, hope you guys enjoy it! (also i hope you don’t mind there’s a tiny bit of smut at the end)

word count: 1483

masterlist: (x)

Originally posted by tomhollandisdaddy


Tapping your foot impatiently, you stood outside the house Tom and Harrison were renting in Atlanta while Tom worked. You heard muffled voices behind the other side of the door, feet shuffling along the floor as your older brother made his way to the entrance of the house. The door opened, Harrison stood smiling in the hallway, moving to the side to let you in. He hugged you tightly, then reached for your suitcases outside.

“Jesus Christ, how much did you bring?” Harrison noted your large amount of luggage. You shrugged.
“I need options,” you said simply. He laughed.
“I’ll take these upstairs. Go in the kitchen through the back, the others are in there.” You were nervous, about to enter a room full of strangers. You inhaled deeply, stepping into the kitchen as Harrison lugged your suitcases up the stairs.

“You must be Y/N!” Jacob said. You smiled at his welcome as he introduced you to his friends. “Tom’s actually on set at the moment, but you know him anyway. He’ll be back for dinner tonight. Laura’s gonna cook for us.” You’d known Tom for as long as you could remember, always having a tiny inappropriate crush on your brother’s best friend. You hadn’t seen him for months now he had a successful career under his belt, he was rarely ever home. It was Harrison’s idea that you came out to visit them, he felt guilty he’d been away and missed your birthday.

Jacob was friendly, already making you feel at ease. The others smiled at you, including you in their conversation. You took the kitchen stool in between Zendaya and a vacant one, where Harrison sat once he had finished with your bags.
“So guys,” Harrison piped up. “Obviously my sister is gonna be here for a couple of weeks, so you better treat her like family and make sure she’s happy all the time. She needs a lot of attention or she’ll start to get weird,” Harrison teased, poking your sides.
“A bit like you then,” Zendaya quipped, making everyone laugh.
“Why don’t we chill in the pool?” Laura suggested.

You were never one for dive-bombing and flipping into the water like Harrison was - you were more of a ‘floating on a lilo’ kind of girl. You’d had to buy a whole new wardrobe of bikinis and one pieces for your trip, since you’d filled out a little since your last holiday. You had your eyes shut underneath your sunglasses as you lay floating in the water, basking in the sunshine. The boys were playing with a ball on the other side of the pool, Zendaya was reading on a lounger and Laura was in the kitchen prepping dinner. You heard the faint clink of keys being dropped onto a table, followed by Tom’s voice, deeper since the last time you saw him, calling out as he entered the back garden. 

Woah,” he said quietly to himself, his eyes scanning the pool, pausing as his gaze reached you. You tilted your sunglasses so you could see him better, returning the smile he was giving you. You suddenly became very conscious of your bikini clad body as you noticed he was still staring. 

“Get in the pool!” Harrison shouted, diverting Tom’s eyes away from you. You lay back down, watching him discreetly as he pulled off his shirt, followed by his sweatpants, leaving him in the swim trunks he was already wearing. Your eyes scanned his chiseled abs, toned pecs and strong legs. He dived over your lilo, splashing you as he hit the water, making you squeal. He winked at you as he surfaced, swimming backwards towards your brother and Jacob, his eyes still on you. Jacob threw the ball, hitting the back of Tom’s head. You laughed, closing your eyes, returning back to your sunbathing.

Keep reading

Bullies Be Gone Pennywise x Reader

Pennywise x Reader

Requester: anonymous

Prompt: (You can totally ignore this) can you write a pennywise/reader where the reader gets bullied constantly for being a student who was held back but can hide it well agaisnt penny (they are really close) but he still notices something up so he decides to spy on and finds out all the bulling. You can end it however you want ^^ thank you in advance

Warning: Bullying 

Note: Enjoy! 

Originally posted by sekiallforbc

Originally posted by thepumpkinqueenn

Originally posted by bibliosana

Pennywise noticed it once again.

Every time he came to visit recently something had been off about you. Wether it was your smile or something deeper Pennywise just couldn’t put his finger on it. He couldn’t even tell if you were hiding something from him.

Today however when he came to visit he noticed you were looking at a few bruises decorating your arm. He gently tapped on the window and you looked over surprised before yanking your sleeve down and walking over to the window.

You knelt on the bed as you threw open your window letting the clown climb in.

“Hey Penny what’s up?” You asked.

The usual excitement and happiness in your voice seemed to not be there.

“Well…not much really. How was school?”

That seemed to be the wrong thing to ask and you avoided eye contact by looking down at the ground. Pennywise knew you were self conscious because you had to stay back a grade in 1st due to self esteem and confidence issues.

Perhaps that’s the issue?

“…okay.” You shrugged.

“Just okay?” The clown asked.

“I mean I had to deal with homework and all that stuff.” You replied turning your head towards him but your eyes darting anywhere else but Pennywise.

“Something’s wrong kiddo. I can tell.” Penny scoffed.

“I told you, nothing’s wrong. I’m cool. I’m fine.” You ranted.

“(Name)-”

“Penny! I’m fine okay?! Just…rough day again. Now how about we watch some movies. Do you want Peter Pan or Aladdin?”

“Peter Pan.” Penny replied.

You and him watched the movie but Pennywise felt alone. He noticed you were continuously drifting off into space or rubbing at the spots where your bruises were occasionally.

You weren’t like yourself who would rant if something didn’t make sense in the movie, squeal when a couple kissed, and overall just being hyper and talkative. Instead you were more like an empty, hollow, shell.

Penny had to leave when the movie ended around 9 and kissed your head just before he left.


The next day Pennywise was watching you at school as an average bird sitting in one of the trees next to your classroom window. Penny always respected your privacy but he was curious why you were so…depressed lately.

He occasionally prumed himself and flew away like other birds to keep you from being suspicious. The one thing he hated was the bell that rang constantly making his ears ring from how loud and obnoxious they were.

The period ended a few minutes ago so you should have arrived to class soon since your last class was on the second floor of the same building. You rushed in just as the bell rang your sweatshirt shoulder slumped and binders held like you had scooped them up in a rush.

You hurried to the back of the class and sat down at the desk which Pennywise could see everything around it from where he was. The teacher began and the clown in disguise noticed that you kept your head low and seemed mute.

He also noticed a few girls were snickering looking towards your general direction. His guess was proven when one of them pointed directly at you which ruffled his feathers. Eventually the teacher left the class to print out more copies of an assignment trusting his students to behave.

Of course they didn’t.

Keep reading

The first night his boyfriend didn’t come back to the dorm, Other Red (Red had already been the name of a student when Other Red was a freshman, and changing your nickname too much wasn’t the best idea) didn’t think much of it. It wasn’t unheard of for one or the other of them to spend a night with friends. But when he wasn’t there the next morning, or in their one shared class that day, Other Red started to worry. As spacey as Frankie Lee could be, he was an avid student. Frankie Lee wasn’t his real name, of course. It wasn’t a surprise to those who knew him that his taken name was musically inspired. He wasn’t answering his phone, either. When there was still no sign of him on the third day, Other Red started asking around. He found what he needed to know pretty soon.

“Yeah, the last time I saw him was a couple days ago.”

“Where was he?”

“Over by the track, by that little wooded area. He had his guitar.”

“He was going towards the trees? Sounds like he was looking for a quiet place to write songs.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.”

“So he went, alone, into the forest, to play music?”

“Looks like.”

“Shit.”

***

Other Red didn’t waste much time. He packed what he needed, knocked on his RA’s door so someone would know where he was going (and so they’d be better prepared to notice if it wasn’t him that came back), and headed for the woods. All this wasn’t strictly necessary, since the RAs would go retrieve Frankie Lee at the end of the semester, but he might be… different by then, and Other Red didn’t want to wait that long to see him again anyway. He walked right into the shade of the trees, and kept going until he couldn’t see the edge of the woods behind him, though the forest he’d walked into was maybe forty feet across. Nowhere on the Elsewhere University campus was a surefire route to danger, if you knew what you were doing, just as nowhere was 100 percent safe if you were reckless enough, but going under the trees to play music? Other Red had to admit that had been stupid. He loved Frankie Lee, but he could be lacking in common sense.

***

As he went, Other Red reminded himself of a story. There was a smith, so the story goes, who made a deal. Who or what he made the deal with changes from telling to telling, but a popular version calls it the Devil. Other Red didn’t know about devils, but any Elsewhere U student knew there were other things you could make deals with. The smith gave up his soul in exchange for supernatural skill at metal work - the ability to weld anything to anything. When the Devil came to collect, though, the smith welded him to a tree and left him there. It’s an old story, one of the oldest, in fact. It’s been told for six thousand years. The story told Other Red a couple of things. One, that metalwork has always been a little bit Else, and two, that it was one way, maybe the first way we ever found, to get a bit of power over the Gentry. At least enough power to get him out of this.

He hoped it was enough to get him out of this.

***

After a while, he could hear music softly through the trees. He walked closer until he could make out the words:


Then the loud sound did seem to fa-a-ade
Came back like a slow voice on a wave of pha-a-ase
That weren’t no D.J. that was hazy cosmic jive
There’s a starman waiting in the sky
He’d like to come and meet us
But he thinks he’d blow our minds…

Other Red could practically see Frankie Lee, eyes closed and head nodding the way he did when he got into his music. He’d smile, and, if he wasn’t playing too, wave his hands slowly like the music was the only thing in the world. Then Other Red reached the clearing where the music was coming from, and he did see Frankie Lee, sitting and playing at the feet of the member of the Court that had taken him.

Less Starman, Other Red thought, and more Thin White Duke. Thin he certainly was, or maybe a better word was long, half again Other Red’s height with his legs - how many knees was that? - stretched out from his seat, which was carved from an enormous tree stump into intricate, disturbing patterns. He was pale, with a human face but a goat’s disdainful eyes, and he wore leather armor with what looked like a bronze sword on his belt. Other Red stepped into the clearing.

The Gentleman held up a hand, and Frankie Lee stopped playing, though his eyes had been closed. When he saw Other Red, he perked up and made eye contact with him, but didn’t speak.

“What brings you here?” asked the Fair One with disinterest.

Other Red indicated Frankie Lee. “I’d like him back.”

“And what will you give me not to simply keep you here as well?”

“I have nothing to give you, but I bring the tokens of my craft.” From his bag, he pulled a welding mask and a handful of nails. “I’m a shop student. If you don’t let me leave, there will be repercussions.” He tried to keep his voice as confident as he could.

The Shining One stared at him for a long moment, then sat back. “You may leave whenever you please, smith, but you cannot command me to give up my musician.”

Other Red had been expecting that. “A game, then?”

“A game. Very well.” said the Good Neighbor instinctively, and then, coming to himself, “What game do you choose?”

Other Red pulled out the other thing he had packed, and tossed it towards the Blessed One. “Fifth Edition, no expansions. One session, seventh-level characters, fight to the character death. I’ll see you a week from today at eight.” He bent down to quickly kiss Frankie Lee, then turned and left.

***

He’d afforded a week because, as much as he wanted Frankie Lee back right now, he needed time to find a DM who was willing to run this fight. Eventually, a girl named Tyto agreed to do it, for approximately a shitton of carefully-specified snacks. This wasn’t the first time someone had played D&D with one of the Gentry. Sometimes, as now, students figured it was the best chance they had of getting something out of them. Other Red’s challenge was a little unusual in that regard - most such games were essentially attempts to impress the Shining Ones with your storytelling talent. They had great respect for storytellers, and a skilled DM could easily get into their good books. Sometimes, They took a liking to the game, and played just for the sake of playing. Other Red had heard of a campaign that met once a month, on the new moon, where students regularly played alongside their Neighbors. Other Red wasn’t making this a storytelling competition, though. He wasn’t a DM, and he wanted a contest he could win.

On the appointed night, they set up in the game room and waited. Other Red wasn’t using his regular character, Ambrose the halfling rogue, for this. It was stupid, but he didn’t want to to let Them know even that fictional real name. Plus, he felt that if he did lose the fight, Ambrose might somehow be dead for good. He’d rolled up a human bard just for the occasion. It seemed appropriate.

At exactly eight, the Duke walked in. He looked more human here, though he was still morning-frost sharp and pale. He was wearing a black suit, and had his hair in a long braid. Tyto shifted in her chair as he walked past her. Other Red offered him a bag of Doritos. Ritual was important, after all. “Given without obligation,” he added.

“Most kind,” said the Visitor, as he took the bag and produced his character sheet. Other Red looked over it briefly. Tiefling druid. Made sense.

“Well then,” said Tyto. “Let’s get started. You’re standing in the street of a small town. You’ve just gotten into a confrontation in a tavern and decided to take it outside. Roll for initiative.”

***

The fight started out slow and cautious. Both characters had swords, and their initial actions were simple. Attack, roll for damage. Attack, roll for damage. Attack, miss. Attack… As they played, they drew an audience. Not students. Any student who knew what was happening tonight had made plans far, far away. There was a man with hair the color of the sea. Two identical-looking girls, neither of their hands quite right. When they walked in, they were followed by a fox that sat quietly and comfortably on a chair. They all watched in silence as the players spoke their battle into being.

Eventually, Other Red’s opponent seemed to get tired of this pattern. “I cast Flame Blade,” he said, “and attack with it.”
Now they were playing with magic. Other Red surrounded the druid with a cloud of daggers. The druid turned into an eagle and dive-bombed the bard. The audience began to stir. This was almost as exciting as the real thing. A few of them could remember when Gwion and Ceridwen tried the same routine. The bard cast a spell of fear to send the eagle flying away, and another spell to deal it damage. The eagle became a boar and charged the bard.

That was two. He was out of transformations. This was what Other Red had been waiting for. “I cast Dimension Door,” he announced, “on both of us.”

“O… K,” said Tyto.  “You both move to..?”
“500 feet directly above us. And as we start to fall, I cast Feather Fall on myself only.”

Tyto and the Fair One both stopped as they realized what he’d done. “So,” Tyto said to the Gentleman, “You’re falling 500 feet. Do you have anything that might help with that?”

“I do not.”

“Then if you’re alright with it, I don’t think we need to roll to know that you’re pretty dead.”
“No.” He stood up and offered Other Red his hand. “How inventive. The musician is yours.” He left the room without another word, and the audience followed behind. After a moment, the door opened again and Frankie Lee stumbled in. He was shivering, with snow melting on his shoulders and water droplets clinging to his tightly curled hair. It was sixty degrees outside.

Other Red almost knocked his chair back standing up. He held Frankie Lee tightly for a long time, and then pulled away a little.

“What were you thinking?”

“I know, I know. How long was I gone?”

“About a week and a half. How long did you…?”

“Damn. I was only there for a couple of hours. I was starting to run out of Bowie. I tell you what, though, I think I finished that song I was working on.”

“If you finished it while you were There, you should maybe never play that part.”

“Good call.”

 [x]

anonymous asked:

can I request the RFA reacting to someone drunkenly kissing MC when they're out at a bar or something? thank you!!

Of course, anon! Here you go~

~Nao

RFA reacts to MC being randomly kissed by a drunk stranger


Yoosung

  • Friday night means social night
  • So Yoosung takes you with him when he goes drinking with his colleagues.
  • You don’t drink because you know how Yoosung is when he gets drunk
  • Also, you have to drive to get home.
  • The evening starts with everyone discussing about work and then moving on to random topics
  • Yoosung’s mood was beginning to loosen up and you could tell that it was almost time to go home
  • However, the guy to your left was too
  • He suddenly grabs and kisses you on the lips
  • Yoosung quickly jerks you away from him
  • “MC IS MINE,“ he firmly states, hugging you close to him, giving the guy an icy stare that scared even you.
  • That scary mood change makes everyone sober up
  • You now find yourself sitting between Yoosung and the wall whenever he takes you with him on Fridays
  • And everyone now knows not to make random moves on you for fear of him

Zen

  • The last day of the musical was a success, and the cast members were celebrating at the after party.
  • You were sitting in the corner, watching Zen horse around with his friends
  • An unfamiliar person sits beside you and strikes up a conversation
  • However, you notice that he’s been edging closer to you
  • And you’ve been trying to edge away too, much to your chagrin
  • “Aw, don’t be like that, pretty. I just want to be friends,“ but then he puts an arm around you and the other on one of your legs
  • You want to scream for Zen, but he’s nowhere in sight
  • You try so hard to keep your face away from him as he tries to kiss you
  • Zenpleasecometheresacreepomgidkwhattodoasdfghjkl
  • “OI, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING TO MY WOMAN?“
  • (Biker gang) Zen to the rescue!
  • He jerks the guy violently away from you and proceeds to punch him a couple of times until his co-actors pull him away from the guy
  • “Are you alright, MC? I’m sorry I wasn’t around, you must’ve been so scared,“ he says worriedly
  • “I’m fine now Zenny,“ but you grip his sleeve tightly since you’re still a little shook from the experience
  • You leave the party earlier than expected, and Zen spends the night comforting you
  • You both find out that the creep was one of the producers who was famous for harassing women when he gets drunk during after parties
  • The whole RFA gets wind of this, and… let’s just say that that guy suddenly had a string of problems and was never heard of again
  • Zen now makes sure to keep you constantly in his line of sight whenever you attend the after parties if at all

Jaehee

  • You girls decide to go on a night out after a busy week at the cafe
  • All the booths were occupied, so you opt to stay at the bar
  • The both of you were in the middle of an interesting conversation when a group of four drunk guys suddenly join you, sitting on either side of you and sandwiching the two of you in between
  • “So, what brings such gorgeous ladies to the bar at this time, hmm?“
  • You squirm uncomfortably in your seat as one of them puts an arm around you and you try to pry his hands away but are unsuccessful
  • “I suggest you stay away from us before anything dangerous happens to your lot, gentlemen,“ Jaehee warns in a calm, but stern tone
  • Uh oh. You completely recognize that tone as the one Jaehee uses whenever she gets angry.
  • The guy beside you smirks. “And what, may I ask,“ he caresses your cheek and keeps your chin in a firm grip, “would happen to us if we make a move on you, hmm?“ and then he proceeds to kiss you forcefully
  • You try to push him away from you, but he’s too strong for you
  • Jaehee sees red
  • She hits the guy closest to her and throws the other one that was kissing you
  • The other bar goers cheer her on as she beats the crap out of the other guys as you stand at the side in shocked silence
  • The police finally arrives and takes the men away and you both file a report
  • Zen and Seven (and Jumin and Yoosung, on occasion) now comes with the two of you whenever you want to go drinking after a long work week

Jumin

  • He attends a social function with you in tow.
  • Wine and cocktails everywhere.
  • One of the drunk guests gets close to you and gives you a kiss to Jumin’s dismay.
  • Immediately has his bodyguards remove the offending guest.
  • Tilts your chin up, and gives you a critical stare.
  • “That man has touched you, my love. I must cleanse you from his touch.“
  • You never finish that party, because he hurriedly drags you home.
  • Said cleansing left you with hickeys all over your body, and the inability to move for the next 24 hours.

707/Saeyoung

  • He doesn’t really drink, but you were going for drinks with your friends at a popular bar so he comes along.
  • In the middle of the merry-making, you excuse yourself to go to the restroom alone.
  • However, on your way back to the table, you are surprised when a stranger drunkenly blocks your way and pulls you in for a kiss.
  • You are more surprised when said drunk is violently pulled away from you.
  • “hey, wtf— mmmph“
  • …..!!!!!!
  • You stare in shock as Saeyoung kisses the stranger in front of you.
  • What’s stranger is that said drunk guy actually responds to him so YOU have to pull them apart.
  • You grab his collar and look into his eyes.
  • “HE’S MINE, SO STAY. AWAY.“
  • After the drunk goes his (scared) merry way, you turn to Saeyoung with hands on hips and a raised eyebrow.
  • “What the hell was that for, Saeyoung?“
  • He gently pulls you in for a hug
  • “He stole a kiss from you, so I took it back,“ he says as he kisses your forehead.
  • Do you smell….Alcohol???
  • “Saeyoung, are you drunk?“
  • “Noooope.“
  • You learn later on that your friends made him drink a shot of tequila  and everybody experiences your wrath.

Bonus: 

Saeran

  • You’ve been bugging him to go to a drinking party with you and your old college buddies
  • He reluctantly agrees, so he goes with you with Saeyoung in tow (much to his dismay, but big brother is worried!)
  • They sit on either side of you, so nobody could make a move on you
  • The night starts off peacefully, with everyone talking about their experiences after college over alcoholic drinks and a light dinner.
  • However, as the night dragged on, almost everyone started loosening up because of the alcohol.
  • One of them particularly being courageous and drunk enough to stand up and confess to you
  • “I’VE ALWAYS LOVED YOU, MC!!! PLEASE LET ME KISS YOU!” he drunkenly shouts, and makes a dive bomb for you, attempting to score a kiss.
  • You are surprised with this declaration so you sit there in stunned silence, but Saeran reacts first and violently pins the guy to the wall while Saeyoung brings you to a safe distance away from him.
  • “Try that again, mister, and you might not just get a bruise the next time,” Saeran dangerously warns, as he twists the guys arms enough to make him scream in pain, but not injure
  • “Saeran, that’s enough,” Saeyoung scolds
  • He lets go of the guy and lets him drop to the floor with a thud, and pulls you away from the party.
  • Your friends now know not to invite that guy if they want you to come along with them, for fear of your boyfriend.

V/Jihyun

  • You were enjoying a quiet night with him, drinking at a seaside bar
  • When suddenly, a random drunk guy approaches you and kisses you
  • You are shocked, so you couldn’t react right away.
  • V swiftly grabs him and coldly pins him to the ground with his boot
  • He then crouches down to whisper something to the guy, which makes him pee his pants on the spot, apologize, and run away.
  • The bar manager approaches you and apologizes profusely, making the next round of drink and food free for you.
  • You ask him what he whispered to the guy that made him so scared
  • But he just chuckled and brought your hand to his lips
  • “It’s a secret, sweetheart” and he smiles as he empties his glass and orders another high ball.
  • Nobody messes with a drunk V.
  • Friend: How are you?
  • Me internally: Do you ever think about Voltron S3E4 when Lance almost got shot? How he watched the gun fire at him but he just froze and didn't even move out of the way when he could have easily dive-bombed out of the bullets range? We're talking about Lance, who is afraid of dying, which is shown in multiple scenes. WHY DIDN'T LANCE MOVE. WHY DID HE JUST SIT THERE? WHAT WAS HE THINKING? The scene was also quickly brushed off. Nobody was in shock afterwards about how Lance almost died. What the fuck are the writers trying to tell us?
  • Me: Good.
Highlights of Supergirl 2x21

Lena Luthor rocking that Morgana vibe

CAT GRANT 

Winn and Cat hugging

Rhea trying to be flirty with Cat and then getting the most savage rejections

Cat and Olivia (The President) having A+ ship material

Kara saying she loves Lena

Cat giving Supergirl the best pep talk

Lillian Luthor being a sarcastic hoe

Danvers Sisters hug

Alex sliding on her knees and dive bombing off the side of a building

Kara going rogue to save her girlfriend

Lena calling Rhea out on her bullshit

Lena in that red dress

Lena rejecting a man

Lena looking like she wants to die whilst holding Mon-Hell’s hand

Cat knowing James is Guardian

Cat being pissed off because there is gym equipment in her office

Lena knowing that Kara loves her

Lena picking a lock with a tiara

Lena snail walking to get the gun whilst Mon-El gets punched

Lena nonchalantly shooting the Daxamite 

LENA LUTHOR.

Lena Luthor owns children’s hospitals

Lena Luthor being alive

Nail Polish

Pairings:
Avengers x Child Reader
Background Bruce Banner x Reader

Summary:
The Avengers get their nails done. ‘nuff said it’s just a good ol fluff fic 

Tony and Bruce were both stationed in the lab, they were SUPPOSE to be doing important work but all you could hear throughout the lab was an echo of Tony’s laughter. Bruce was currently sitting AWAY from Tony and trying to do work in favour of ignoring him.

“I’m sorry! I can’t breath! I mean I’m not sorry at all! Tony bellowed at as he took another selfie with his disgruntled science bro.

“It’s not that funny Tony.”

“Yes it is!”

“You’ve been going on for 20 minutes Tony, I’m starting to get annoyed.”

“Oh! Do you think the green bean will come out?!” Tony only laughed harder, leaning over against the work bench as he clutched his stomach, tears forming in his eyes.

“Imagine the Hulk with nail polish!!!”

True to his word Bruce had on a messy coating of a shimmering purple nail polish. There were splotches of purple staining all across the tips of his fingers.

Bruce finally got up to move and began walking away. Tony quickly grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Okay okay okay! I get it. You’re being a good dad, the kids at that age. I won’t tease you anymore.” Tony said grinning at Bruce as he wrapped his arm around Bruce’s shoulder. He held up his other hand for a fist bump and Bruce begrudgingly gave in. Tony quickly grabbed the hand, displaying the nail polish in full as he snapped one more selfie.

“Starting now!” He chuckled as he wiggled out of Bruce’s grip and made his way back to his work bench, snickering.

When lunch time came Tony dragged Bruce out of the lab for a well deserved break, meeting up with the rest of the team (who weren’t on a mission) for “quality bonding time” and for Tony that meant some form of greasy food and today it was pizza.

“Mrs Banner has arrived for a visit Boss.” Chimed FRIDAY as the automatic door slid open.

“DAAAAAAAAAAADDY!”

A voice cried out as the pattering of feet thundered against the floorboards. Bruce quickly shuffled to his feet and bent down with his arms open as his 5 year old son dive bombed into Bruce’s arms. “Hey there champ!”

Calmly following behind him was Bruce’s wife and holding her hand was his 8 year old daughter. Bruce smiled and walked towards them. “Hey sunshine!” His wife said smiling as Bruce leaned forward to press a kiss to her lips, ignoring the “ewwwww” coming from his son.

Bruce watched as his daughter let go of her mothers hand and immediately went to crawl onto Vision’s lap and have a conversation with him. His daughter had taken after Bruce intelligence wise and with her calm and smart demeanour she had trouble making friends her own age. She didn’t see a point in interacting with anyone who wasn’t her brother their age so Vision was her best friend.

His wife held up her phone and across her screen all over social media was the selfie Tony had taken in the lab. She herself had a clear coat of nail polish with rainbow sparkles while their daughter had a deep ocean blue.

“Well!” His wife announced loudly gaining the other Avengers attention. “I saw how much our dear friend Tony LOVED Bruce’s nail polish and I said to myself you know what? I bet ALL the Avengers would love their nails done and we were just so excited that we came right down.” She grinned and raised her brows suggestively at Tony whose face dropped causing the others to snicker, Clint outright bursting into laughter.

“I love you.” Bruce breathed and hugged his wife after their son had ran towards the couches with his blue backpack clacking, filled with a variety of coloured bottles.

———–

“Auntie Nat gets sparkly pink because she’s the prettiest!”

“Oooh you hear that? I’m the prettiest.”

———-

“Uncle Thor gets red because it’s like blood!”

“A colour of battle indeed little one, certainly befitting to a warrior such as myself!”

———-

“Uncky Steve gets red, white and blue!!!”

Steve didn’t say anything but smiled softly at the choice that was made.

———-

“Uncle Buckyroo gets black because black is a cool colour!”

“This’ll come off metal right?” Bucky whispered to Steve and was gently nudged by him. “Uh, l mean I’m glad I get the cool colour, sport.”

———–

“Uncle Tony gets hot pink!”

“Wait, why do I get hot pink? Thor got blood!“ Tony whined, his face scrunched up, feeling offended.

“Because mummy said it was your faaaavourite colour but you would be too embarrassed to say so! Don’t worry uncle Tony I’ll keep your secret safe!” Tony felt his face get patted by the boys small pudgy hand.

“Yaaaaay.” He strained out as he glared at Bruce’s wife.

————-

“And and and Uncle Vision gets yellow!!! Because yellow!”

“He really likes yellow at the moment.” Bruce’s daughter stated, still comfortably perched on the Vision’s lap.

“Well then I am honoured to get your favourite colour.”

————–

The small child pouted as he looked at the bottles splayed out across the table.

“Uncle Clint I can’t think of what colour to do for you!” He cried out, looking up at Clint, nearly in tears.

“Aww come on buddy! Don’t be sad I have a great idea! I want the same colours as YOUR nail polish.” Clint announced, smiling as Bruce’s son looked up at him with the widest starry eyed gaze before grinning like mad.

“Okay!”

And just like that each individual nail on Clint’s hand was painted in a rainbow of different colours, perfectly matching the boys own.

————-

After everyone was done and dry Bruce’s wife proudly held up her phone.

“How about some selfies?”

Dragon Drawing Prompts!

Dragons!! Here’s a whole bunch of dragon drawing prompts for you! Have followers send them in, do a few at random, or make a challenge out of them! You can even write stories based off of them! Just have fun using these to fight your creativity block!

Swamp Dragons

  • A big, crocodile-like dragon hiding under the water and snatching down prey that gets too close
  • A dragon that burps up swamp gas to deter humans from its home
  • A dragon that eats even the biggest of snakes in a swamp
  • A dragon whose horns resemble the swamp’s plants

Cave Dragons

  • A cave dragon colony that lives like ants in an old mine, preventing miners from taking any more minerals
  • A cave dragon napping with some bats during the day time
  • A big dragon that lives deep in a cave, with tons of raw precious metals in its hoard

Forest Dragons

  • Forest dragons burrowing and making tunnels that intertwine between the roots of old trees
  • Small forest dragons climbing trees like squirrels and jumping from treetop to treetop
  • Rainforest dragons with vivid colorations, hiding perfectly in their tropical habitat
  • Rainforest dragons with huge, butterfly like wings
  • Tiny dragons living in the hollows of trees, hoarding anything shiny, even some shiny acorns

Arctic/Antarctic Dragons

  • A thick-furred dragon roaring at people because it isn’t familiar with them being near its habitat
  • A dragon that cannot fly, but instead swims, just like a penguin
  • A dragon that swims under the ice and then crashes through the ice to make prey fall into the crack

Mountain Dragons

  • Dragons living in hot springs beside a volcano, incubating their eggs in the warm water
  • Mountain climbers reaching the top of a mountain and being scared away by a dragon
  • A dragon dozing off outside and waking up covered in mountain top snow

Field Dragons

  • A large-winged dragon gliding above a field and casting a huge shadow
  • A deer-like dragon running past humans so quickly that their hats fly off
  • A small, hawk-like dragon dive-bombing prey

Underwater Dragons

  • A dragon living in an underwater cavern with an air pocket
  • A dragon living in a kelp forest, blending in with the kelp
  • Dragons that travel in pods and resemble orca whales
  • A dragon that flings itself out of the water and glides above it, like a flying fish

Desert Dragons

  • Dragons stealing treasure from long-buried monuments in the sand
  • A dragon breathing fire so hot it creates chunks of glass, which the dragon makes its nest out of
  • A dragon accidentally stepping on a cactus, and other dragons try to pry the cactus out of the other’s foot
  • Dragons so heavy and callous that even when a huge sandstorm passes, they are unaffected

Urban Dragons

  • Dragons living in old subway tunnels and collecting loose change they find on the ground
  • Dragons living in the sewer systems of big cities, only seen by those needing to clean the sewers out
  • A small dragon living near a plaza, swiping jewelry right off of unsuspecting pedestrians
  • A dragon living near a power plant and being curious about the people working there
  • Neighborhood dragons that are very used to being around people and will even let some people pet them
4

The Attack on Orleans, World War I,

The only enemy attack on American soil during World War I occurred at the sleepy Cape Cod fishing town of Orleans, Massachusetts. On the morning of July 21st, 1918 the German submarine U-156 surfaced outside of the town and opened fire with its four deck guns.  First U-156 attacked the tugboat Perth Amboy, sinking it and the four barges it was towing.

The submarine then fired upon the town, all of its shells landing harmlessly in a nearby swamp.  During the attack, a local citizens returned fire with rifles and shotguns, among them a ten year old boy named Jack Ainsley, who was armed with a .22 rifle.

On board the tug and barges were 32 sailors, all of whom were rescued by the local US Life Saving Service, who bravely rowed out to the sinking boats despite attracting fire from U-156. U-156 finally submerged and retreated when HS-1L Flying Boats and R-9 Bombers dive bombed the submarine with payloads of TNT, one of the first naval aviation attacks in American history.

The attack resulted in the sinking of one tugboat and four barges, but there were no casualties and no damaged occurred to the town itself. For the remainder of the war rumors spread throughout the town that a German invasion or larger naval attack was imminent. The locals of the town would call the incident “The Battle of Orleans”. The submarine U-156 was also unharmed, and traveled north, sinking fishing boats and merchant ships off the coast of Maine and Newfoundland.  On 25th of November the submarine failed to report in to German High Command, and it or it’s 77 man crew was never heard from or seen again.

Can’t Take the Heat | Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

request: Can you do something where you are tony starks daughter and you are part of the avengers but you are pretty new to it all like peter and when you go to fight together you get really hurt? mixed with Idk if you would take this request but can u write some headcannons about peter dating someone with fire powers? I love your writing so much! Thank you <3

warnings: injury, near death, cursing

word count: 2173

————————-

Originally posted by hardyness

You pace up and down the aisle of the personal jet buzzing with thinly contained excitement.

“Hey, hey! Y/N, baby calm down you’re sparking.” Your boyfriend Peter suddenly shouts, gesturing wildly with his hands. You snap out of your daze and raise a hand to inspect it. He’s right, your fingertips are gleaming a sunset orange and small fireworks spark off of them.

“Right, sorry.” You apologize, flushing almost as red as your fingertips with embarrassment. Peter flashes you a nervous smile and gingerly takes your palm.

“You know I love it when you get fiery,” he winks at you, “It’s just we are above the clouds in a big steel thing and if it catches fire we are sort of screwed.” He references your flaming ability, and you can’t help but roll your eyes (even though you know he’s right).

“We are really doing this Pete! We are going on a mission. Sure it’s just a group of some guys who medically enhanced themselves to have animal powers and they have some alien tech, but I mean something isn’t nothing.” You speak extremely quickly.

“What do you mean just some medically enhanced guys with alien weapons?” Peter scoffed at you. You shrug and fall back into the plush first class level recliner.

“I mean it’s not Ultron but I’m ready!” You are chomping at the bit to get going, your dad, Tony (also known as Iron Man), never let you go on missions before. His excuse was always that you needed more training.

“Y/N, I know you’re excited. And I know you can handle yourself, but this is real and dangerous. You cannot go in there to cocky.” Peter is cautious saying this because he knows that you can get hotheaded when someone tells you no.

Sucking in a deep breath you reply, “I know, but I can handle myself, hell I can shoot fire out of my hands.” You felt the mischievous smile spread on your face and you imagined yourself soaring next to your dad in the brand new suit he made you to harness your powers and better focus them.

You don’t notice Peter’s smile falter as he thinks about how new you are to this. He has been worried all week, usually he’s excited for a new avengers mission but this time was different. The girl he loved was coming and she was fresh out of the oven.

You leaned down and pulled at the handle on the bottom of your seat, a small box of chilled waters appeared and you grabbed one hastily. Lifting the bottle to your parched lips you heard the hiss of steam before you felt it on your cheeks.

“Okay, I really do need to calm down.” You admitted coyly to Peter, batting your eyelashes innocently so that he wouldn’t get all worried again.

Glancing out the window you noticed the plane begin to dip and suddenly a ding alerted you and peter to the coming announcement, “We are descending, everybody suit up and be ready for ground transport to our location.” Your father’s voice boomed through the little cabin. You felt your eyes go wide and you swung your body to face Peter’s.

“Alright, let’s go.” He says to you, taking in a steadying breath and standing up, suit in hand.

“Not so fast spider-boy, hop out. I’m changing in here, you go change with Clint.” Natasha bursts through the door and grabs Peter by the scruff of his neck, practically tossing him out of the cabin.

You shot Peter an apologetic smile and then turned to face the malevolent general with a snarl, “Tash, what the hell? It’s not like we were going to have sex.”

Natasha raises a single eyebrow, “Too bad I don’t care. You’re like my little sister and I don’t want a smelly boy seeing your goods.” You roll your eyes but smile at the jovial relationship you have.


You and Peter sit nervously holding hands as Happy drives you toward the battle. A fleet of cars and motorcycles are transporting everyone and you are suspicious of why Happy was here. You figure your dad has him here in case he wants you removed from the battle.

The car suddenly stops and you hear a screeching, “That’s your cue,” Happy says turning around, “Be careful Y/N, Peter.” Both of you solemnly nod. Peter leans over and opens the door on his side before taking your hand and guiding you out.

“Let’s go.” Peter whispers and begins to run, you steel yourself and engage your boosters causing you to lift off the ground.

As you lift higher in the air you can see about 15 men all walking far to slowly toward your group. One man has an arm that is replaced by a purple glowing blaster the size of your lower body.

“Spidey on your left!” You shout as you see a huge chunk of cement go flying from across the lot. You blast it to make it smaller and he expertly avoids it. You change course and choose to get closer to the 3 men farthest right, one is abnormally large and has stripes like a tiger all across his upper body. The other two look identical and seem to be half made of metal.

Your dad is fighting alongside the Hulk and Peter is still coming slightly slower because he is swinging his way here. You dive-bomb the first man and get a right hook in, but he is prepared and immediately kicks you 10 feet away. One of the other guys charges a blast where your chest would be but you duck down in the last second.

Powering up you blast at the third man and shoot fire at him, it scorches his body and you feel proud because you finally got the upper hand. But as the fire melts away metal covers his injuries, making him more indestructible.

“Hey!” Peter shouts and shoots a web around the man’s legs and tosses him against a wall where he webs him up. You give him a nod of thanks and return to the first man who is barreling at you.

“Little bitch, come here.” He shouts. You duck just in time to avoid a punch and then sock him in the stomach. You go to blast him but he grabs your wrist, you try fire again but it seems to just hover over him.

“Not so tough anymore?” He asks you in a growl. Fear must be written across your face as he crushes the metal on your wrists and throws it aside. He raises a large fist and swings it down with such force that you hardly feel the hit in your abdomen and instead feel the impact of your back on the same wall the other man was webbed on.

“Oopsie” You hear in your ear, and that’s when it registers that you didn’t hit the wall, you hit the webbed man, who is no longer webbed. He grips your shoulders and smashes you to the ground placing one hand squarely on your left shoulder and then using his whole weight and pushing down. You hear a sickening crack and feel excruciating heat rush into your shoulder.

Then he stands and stomps on your leg causing your vision to go completely white, laughing as he hears you cry out in pain. Black and silver stars dance in your vision but you feel his weight leave your body, somebody is fighting him.

But before you can get your bearings you manage to make out the gun on the arm of the large man you saw before aimed right at your stomach. A blast sounds and everything goes dark.


The next minutes come in flashes. You hear Steve screaming for your father.

“Baby, please. I never should have let you come.” Your dad.

“No. no no.” Peter.

You can vaguely hear the battle continuing, but honestly you feel next to nothing, it is as though you were floating 3 feet above yourself and underwater.

“Peter, you’re done. Take her to the car and get to a hospital, NOW.” You hear your father delegate responsibility to Peter.

“Of-of course.” Peter sounds shocked, determined, terrified, and crushed all at the same time. You feel his strong arms secure themselves around you and you squeal in pain as he lifts you, your leg and shoulder are unavoidable.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Peter whispers to you. “I’m going to take care of you, please don’t leave me. Fight Y/N. I’m taking care of you.” His voice is desperate but you suddenly can’t remember why he is upset.

The next thing you hear is the slamming of a car door and the familiar tone that Happy always has when he is concerned about you, “Alright, why don’t you immobilize her injuries with your webs, let’s get her to a hospital.” That is the last thing you hear before it all just goes silent for good.


Your eyelids feel like they have barbells holding them down and got one thousand tiny paper cuts. You can hear the labored breathing of someone sleeping near you. Your head is pounding and you can hear your pulse hitting against your skull.

The events leading up to this pain come flooding back to you: the battle, your shoulder and leg, tiger man, the gun, Peter carrying you, passing out. Despite the pain, you force your tired lids to open, revealing a far too bright hospital room. Blinking the sleep out and adjusting to the bright light you try to lift your head, sending a shock of pain through your shoulder. 

The sharp intake of breath wakes up the person snoozing next to you, “Baby girl?” You hear your father’s desperate voice.

“Daddy?” Your voice crackles, it must be weird from disuse. Your father’s bearded face and red eyes come into view. He looks haggard like he’s been crying and hasn’t slept in a week.

He leans over and hits the call button for the nurse. “Dad can I sit up?” You ask him, he nods and uses the button pad on the side of your bed to bring you upright.

The nurse comes running in and begins running tests on you like a fiend. You note to yourself that it’s weird that she’s working so rushed. When she’s done she takes a deep breath and turns to your father, “She’s a miracle, we need to keep monitoring her but trillion to one you know.” She shoots you a smile and leaves you two to talk.

“Dad what happened?” You ask him, suddenly concerned. He goes on to tell you that they crushed 4 of your ribs, broke your leg and shattered your shoulder, fractured your collarbone, and finally got a concussion. You do have slightly accelerated healing abilities but it wasn’t looking good and you’ve been out for 4 days. Basically, they thought they were biding the days until you died.

“Dad, I need to see Peter.” You tell him once you finish talking. “Why hasn’t he visited me?” You can’t conceal the pain in your voice, only this time it’s not about the physical stuff.

“Baby, no one was allowed in but me, he’s been sleeping in the chairs all week. Let me go get him.” You are thankful that he understands that you need to see him, especially because you almost died and he could easily say just him and you right now.

You lift your hand and inspect the cuts and bruises all over it. You are prodding different parts of your body when Peter comes sprinting in. He smiles when he sees you looking at him but it melts almost immediately when he sees the rest of you. “Peter” You call for him, he comes to your side immediately and gingerly takes your hand.

“I stayed.” You whisper in his ear as a tear leaks out of his eye. He nods with a quivering lip.

“I-I thought you were going to die, we all did.” He sounds so broken and sad. But you lift his chin so that he is looking you in the eyes.

“I’m here, and I’m not dead. But I am very injured, so I’m expecting a lot of healing kisses and treats and teddy bears.” You decided to make light of the situation because it was more you than being angsty and sad.

“I will buy you every chocolate on the planet and get you a teddy bear for every minute we are together, and I should probably get started on those kisses.” He smiled at you and leaned down to place an extremely light kiss on your forehead.

“Well that’s not what I meant!”

————————

(tags under the cut)

Keep reading

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  • Rogue, half-asleep: I am coffee.
  • Sting: ...You're hot, bitter and keep people awake?
  • Rogue, slightly more asleep: Precisely. Especially those first two.
  • Sting: ...Especially especially that first one...

Things Spock has definitely done

  • been scientifically distracted by Jim’s shoulders
  • (shoulder wings and thicksturdycomfortable when Spock dive bombs them)
  • drowsily collapsed into Jim’s neck so heavily they both get a shock 
  • smooshed his face under Jim’s ear 
  • (stubble and soft skin and ohgod his hair smells so good)
  • plopped himself down on Jim’s lap
  • especially when jim is at a desk
  • the table in their quarters is ideal, can wrap both arms around Jim’s neck, sometimes jim puts a hand on Spock’s bum and just… squeezes
  • the briefing room is also Good. Spock can squish himself between jim and the desk and straddle Jim’s knee and feel his hand on the small of his back
  • when they’re in bed he just lies over jim like a heavy Vulcan heat blanket
  • it’s to keep Jim warm okay? Not because Spock likes to put his face between Jim’s shoulder blades and slide their feet together and …