do not even try to dent it

dudewhyme  asked:

Oh god, I imagine tiny!Derek holding tinier!Stiles' hand after asking the sheriff for Stiles' hand in marriage to tell his mom that he already proposed to Stiles and the sheriff said yes so he would take responsibility, Derek even had toy ring too! Talia facepalmed and hid her laughter so Derek wouldn't think that he's being laughed at while whatever Hale was present at that time recorded them with a camera phone and vowed to broadcast this on their wedding day.

“Boys,” John says as Derek Hale walks into the bullpen, tugging Stiles by the hand. Stiles is only three, but he’s no pushover. If Derek Hale is dragging him around, it’s only because Stiles demanded it. 

Stiles grins at him. “Daddy! Hi, Daddy!” 

“Hi, kiddo,” John says. He leans back on the edge of his desk and folds his arms across his chest. “What’s going on? Aren’t you two supposed to be in the park?” 

John’s stuck at work, sure, but Claudia and Stiles were going to meet the Hale pack in the park for a picnic. Claudia is the Hale pack emissary, after all. 

Derek’s eyebrows tug together. He’s a serious looking kid. Eight years old, and he can worry like a world champion. “Deputy Stilinski,” he says, and since when has he been this formal? He edges closer, still holding Stiles’s hand. He juts his chin out stubbornly, and the rest of his words come out in a breathy rush: “In ‘cordance with pack law I am stating my intentions to marry your son. Will you negotiate?” 

Well then. 

John looks around the bullpen. Derek’s little speech (and he almost got the words right) has gotten the attention of his colleagues. Madison looks like he’s about to drop his armful of paperwork and coo at Derek, and John narrows his eyes in warning. No. One does not coo at a werewolf, even if he is only eight years old and totally fucking adorable right now. Derek is clearly trying to be a Grown Up. 

“I will,” John says, because what? He’s not going to break the kid’s heart in front of an audience. “What do you offer in exchange for my consent?” 

Derek unpeels Stiles’s sticky hand from his own and digs around in his pockets. He shuffles up to John’s desk and sets down all his worldly possessions: three slightly soggy cheetos and a dented Matchbox car. Then he pushes his shoulders back and stares up at John, stubborn and hopeful all at once. 

“Oh my god,” Madison whispers under his breath. 

“Oooh!” Stiles says, and reaches out for the car. 

Drek grabs his chubby wrist. “No! That’s for your dad. So we can play together all the time, even when we’re big.” 

“Oh.” Stiles turns his big brown eyes toward John beseechingly. 

“Beta Hale,” John says solemnly. “I accept. You have my consent to marry Stiles.” 

Derek sags with relief. 

Stiles tries to grab one of the cheetos. 

“No!” Derek says again. 

Stiles scowls at him. “I want cheetos!” 

“Don’t eat your bride price, son,” John says. “Why don’t you two head back to the park? I’ll bet the picnic is set up by now. Mom packed you peanut butter cups, Stiles.” 

“Oooh! Yummy!” Stiles is already heading for the door. “Bye, Daddy!” 

Derek Hale rushes after him. 

Madison comes over to inspect the Matchbox car. “You know you just promised your three year old son in marriage, right, John?” 

“Huh.” John shrugs. “They’re kids. They’ll forget about it by tomorrow.” 

Twenty years later the Matchbox car is in the pocket of John’s suit as he gives Stiles away at the altar. 

So my co-worker and I just came up with the best idea for a series of stories/comics.

Harvey Dent is mostly rehabilitated and starts practising law again.

And what he does, right, is he starts defending all the little guys that get caught up in the super villains bigger schemes, or helps out the villains that are trying to do a better job or can’t afford to defend themselves. Like, can you just imagine?

  • Some minor criminal gets tricked into playing the patsy for a bigger villain. Harvey helps them out.
  • Harvey wears a mask in court, (like in Batman Telltale ep. 3 if he’s Two Face) but when he really wants to intimidate the opposition, he’ll take it off and go full Two Face for a bit. You really know you’re in trouble when he pulls out the coin.
  • Any time one of the big bads drugs an entire chunk of the population, and there’s suddenly dozens of people committing minor crimes even though they didn’t necessarily want to, Harvey Dent is there to represent every single one of them.
  • One of the other villains that’s trying to redeem themselves, like Harley or something, needs legal help; doesn’t want to end up in Arkham again or is just plain having a hard time; Harvey is there to help.
  • The other lawyers absolutely fucking hate him now, because he’s still mostly doing it to help out. Sometimes he doesn’t even take payment for cases.
  • At some stage Batman needs legal representation and comes knocking on Harvey’s door, and at first Harvey is just really confused, but then he goes along with it.

Okay. We have additions because it’s slow at work today and we keep coming up with ideas.

  • When Harvey first starts out no-one wants to hire him because he’s Two Face, and he has to work really hard to move past that.
  • There’s still so much corruption in the legal system and no-one wants Harvey to win cases, so he actually has a really bad record of losing.
  • But sometimes Wayne Enterprises steps in to pay bail or something.
  • And Harvey doesn’t give up, even though it’s really tempting and sometimes the failures make his own battle even harder.
  • Some of the big villains (Black Mask, Joker…) start coming after Harvey because his work means that more of their mooks are turning in evidence against them, or getting out of a life of crime etc. But others are totally fine with it because they know they might need his help some day.
  • Harvey has to defend Red Hood and the Outlaws. It is a mess.
  • This ties in to Harley’s redemption arc as well. After he defends her they become really good friends and regularly help each other out for free.
Countdown|H.Styles Imagine

Originally posted by stylesinthewild

#3:“I was just kinda hoping you’d y’know… fall in love with me.”
#13:”It’s okay, you don’t have to love me back.”

Niall couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips once Harry told him what had happened hours before. Harry starred at his friend with the most unamused expression, that only increased Niall’s laugher, the Irishman didn’t mean to laugh but the situation itself was something out of those corny romance movies that his bird watched on a daily. Wiping the tears that had escaped he let out a deep breathe before the words finally escaped his lips.

“Let me get this straight mate, so you and Y/N were having lunch and you just said ‘I was just kinda hoping you’d y’know fall in love with me?” Niall asked with a raised eyebrow as Ella walked in the room with a raised eyebrow.

“Who’s falling in love with whom?” She asked as Harry groaned knowing the last person he wanted to know about his mess up was her. He loved Ella, and thanked her everyday for waltzing into Niall’s life which brought Y/N into his. But having her know, meant she’d try ad prey information for Y/N and that was the last thing he needed right now.

“Harry over here petal, likes love’s Y/N.” Niall stated before taken a sip of his beer and looking at his fiancé. Rolling her eyes she sat down besides Harry and gave him a soft hug. She of course had already known what happened, seeing as Y/N had called her a nerves wreak.

“Hey, it’s alright.” She smiled as Harry looked at her with a slight worried expression. She wasn’t dim and she knew the Englishman had feelings for her friend, but she also knew her friend had feelings for him. They both simply needed a little push, and Niall was certainly not the one to do it. “Just talk to her H..” She added as they both watched his eyes widen.

“Not possible.” He stated shaking his head. “Don’t even know how to start a proper conversation after that mess up..” He finished with a sigh and his shoulder’s dropped.

“Well too bad Styles…” She huffed as she stood up from her seat besides him. Placing her hand on her hips she looked at him with a smirk. “Cause you’re staying for dinner and she’s coming over for dinner.”


“But nothing..”

Three hours.

That’s how long he had before he had to find some way to lose his nerves and some way to make right the mistake he had made. He tried busying himself by helping Ella make dinner only to resulting in him almost cutting his finger and her pushing him out of her kitchen. Niall had offered him a beer as he sat down besides with a long sigh and a still busy mind.

30 minutes.

Till dinner and till perhaps the end of his live as he knew it. Niall had assured him things wouldn’t be as bad and he just needed to get over this insane fear and just go along with it. Harry rejected every single idea he had. Niall was a smart man, and Harry knew that. All he wanted to do was help, but Harry was way to nervous to even allow the sudden ideas being fed to him make a dent in his brain.

0 minutes.

She sat across from him, as Niall and Ella were in the dinning room getting the table ready. All that was heard the soft voices of the other couple. They were trying their best to busy themselves as long as possible for them to have the most needed conversation possible.

It’s okay, you don’t have to love me back.” Harry spoke as she looked up at him with a soft chuckle as she nodded her head.

“You’re nervous..” She pointed out as a soft chuckle escaped his lips as he nodded his head.

“How could I not be, basically told you I’m in love with you before..” he stated as he looked down and her cheeks flushed. Ella’s words from earlier repeated themselves in her mind as she took a deep breathe.

“You ever let me answer you before..”

“Cause I already know the answer..”

“But do you really..”

“I believe so, yes.”

“Well you don’t Harry. ‘Cause if you stood around and waited you would’ve know I’m helpless in love with you too.”


my gf @scarecrane gave me new brushes to try out and I found this marker tool for drawing that looks really nice in my opinion so I tested it out first doing a bust of two face then went wild

it was funny to me because my gf said my art didn’t even look like mine anymore lmao I hope you guys like these though!

(please don’t repost or use w/o permission, and leave my description; thanks!)

What to do after a car accident

Short story time: At the beginning of May, I was hit while driving by another car that decided red lights don’t mean stop (what a bitch). Three years prior I hit a car that I’m pretty sure came the fuck out of nowhere (‘funny note’—I can’t remember a lot from that accident). And I have been in the car as a passenger during a couple negligible rear-ending incidents (one which happened days after my first big accident and caused me to have a panic attack).

So what do you do in the aftermath of a car accident?

FIRST—Check on YOU: You read it in airplane emergency brochures—help yourself before assisting your fellow passengers. The same thing goes for car accidents. Make sure that you’re okay before helping everyone else. Here’s what I do: check for major bleeding, wiggle toes, fingers, roll neck gently, feel body for debris. You can do this pretty damn quickly. But you’re no fucking use to anyone if you’re injured and bleeding and trying to help other passengers. Why? Because you’ll only hurt yourself further, and may injure the other person, as well.

Check on other passengers. Were you driving with other people in the car? Or are you another passenger being driven by someone else? Look around the vehicle and audibly ask if each person is okay. If anyone’s injured badly, take note, because you’ll need to describe this to the emergency operator.

Turn off the vehicle (if possible). Whenever your car is hit, especially if it’s hit near the engine or gas tank, turn the car off. The last thing you want is a fucking giant ball of fire on the side of the road. Also, turning off the car can make you feel like you’re doing something normal(ish), which might help keep your noggin calm.

Exit the car (if possible). Sometimes you can’t exit the car the normal way. You might have to crawl through a window, or crawl around the car to exit through a door that’s working. My first accident was a T-bone that resulted in my door being slammed in. The electric doors in the car were fucked up already, so my only way out was to have the responding officer rip the door off (the look on his face as he tried to open the other doors was fucking hilarious, though).

Do you need police/fire/ambulance? Then…

Call emergency services. The operator will ask you your location. Try to name off a nearby intersection, mile marker, or landmark—this can help first responders locate you more quickly. It pays to know where the fuck you are. Describe your car. Name the number of people and their injuries, if you can. Say how many cars were involved.

While you’re waiting, if you can, grab any personal belongings from your car (purse, backpack, etc.). In case your car is towed, you might lose access to these things. If your phone is working, take pictures of the scene. This can help later with insurance stuffs, or if it’s needed as court evidence. Or you can even use them to create a scrapbook memorial page mourning the loss of your first car. Also, call any important people who should know that you were in a bad accident: parents, spouse, lover, friends, boss, etc.

Is it a minor dent/scratch and no one’s hurt? Then…

Call the police anyway. Why? Because as good as some people can be, some will do anything to avoid taking fault for an accident. This can come back to bite you in the ass when you’re trying to get reimbursed by the other persons’ insurance company for any work your car needs. So why do I need a cop? Because they can be a third party witness who can assign a ticket to the faulted party, collect insurance information, and describe the details of your car.

If you really don’t want to call the cops…get the other person’s insurance. Take a picture of your car and their car. Shit, take a picture of their insurance card. Don’t let them get away by just giving you their first name and a phone number—you’ll never hear from them again. Be assertive about getting it, and if they’re hesitant or violent, CALL THE COPS.

Important things to note: Don’t forget to call your insurance company and let them know about the accident! Write down the number of the agent who you’ll be talking to. Get the cop’s name and badge number, the police report number, towing company, the names of everyone involved. Your insurance company will ask you to give your statement. Before telling them, write everything down so you know what to say and so you can make sure you didn’t forget to mention anything.

Miscellaneous tips:

Try to stay as calm as possible, at least when you’re on the phone. It’s really hard for emergency responders to get information out of someone who’s crying.

Bring a bag or box with you to get the stuff out of your car, if it’s been towed. If you had stuff in boxes in your trunk, they may have been busted during the accident, so you’ll be happy you brought a bag.

Don’t text and drive! Seriously! If you kill someone because you decided texting was more important than paying attention to the road, I hate you and hope you rot (fuck you, fuck you, fuck you). Same thing with cell phone calls! The person on the other end of the line doesn’t know if they’re distracting you, and not having two hands on the wheel can lead to some gnarly accidents (especially in bad weather). Bluetooth headsets are super-cheap nowadays, and a lot of states (like Illinois!) are making hands-free laws (IE, you need to use a bluetooth device while driving or else it’s a pricy ticket).

Even if you end up not going to the hospital, see your doctor the next day. Let them know you were in a car accident. Sometimes your body takes a while to tell you that you have an injury. Also, sometimes what you think is nothing can lead to major neck/back/brain problems later, so this can save you in the long run.

Also, BIG TIP: If you’re the car who hit someone, never say “I’m sorry.” That is considered an admission of guilt and is ultimately what got me charged as being Car 1 (car at-fault) in my first accident. Even though both I and the other car were technically at fault, the responding officer chose me (poo).

Stay safe, pay attention to the road, and wear your seatbelts!
-The Sudden Adult

PS. It’s totally OKAY to cry and freak out a bunch after an accident. I can only manage to remain calm enough to call 911 and talk to the police, but when I call my parents I cry a bunch. Luckily my mom is fluent in The Sudden Adult’s Tear-Filled Rambling and can decipher that I want my dad there to talk ‘police’ with the police (plus he’s a big fat guy, so hugging him’s like hugging a giant mustachioed grizzly).

anonymous asked:

Can I get a Valentine's Day peter Parker x reader please???

Peter Parker X Reader –  Don’t Tell

A/N – For me, this works best with Tom Holland (Avengers Spiderman) but an older version of Aunt May & Uncle Ben (like in the original trilogy.)

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

Based off this imagine by @thefandomimagine

Originally posted by guywiththeguitar

High school is an unusual society where the students follow unspoken rules and the teachers let them in order to maintain an easier, quieter life. The rules are simple enough: stay within your group, don’t become the teacher’s pet, keep fights within your year, and above all, never tell on another student.

Unfortunately, that last rule came with its own consequences for you on a Friday before school let out. Toby Garfield had accidentally broken one of the windows for all the students to see but since nobody, including yourself, was willing to tell the teacher, Mr Maguire, you were blamed for being the closest to the scene of the crime. It meant that after school, you had been given glamourous job of scrubbing graffiti off the walls; you had even been given the janitor’s keys to put the cleaning supplies away afterwards.

After an hour and a half of scrubbing, you checked your watch yet again, sure that it must finally be time for you to go home. When you saw it wasn’t, you were sure time must be passing agonisingly slow just to taunt you.

“That’s it.” You growled irritably, throwing the scrubbing brush back into the bucket and inadvertently soaking yourself with water. “No more. There’s nobody here. I’m going home.”

You continued to chunter to yourself down the hallway until you reached the supply closet where you grew even more frustrated as it refused to unlock.

“OH, COME ON!” You exploded angrily.

“Hello?” A muffled voice sounded from inside the closet.

You frowned at the door, puzzled. “Hi?”

“Hey um, I’m kind of trapped in here, do you think you could let me out?”

“Oh!” You burst into action, trying again to unlock it. The door remained stubbornly shut, even when you leant against it with all your might. “Door’s jammed.” You grunted, pushing harder.

“Yeah… Flash dented the lock so I wouldn’t get out.”

“Flash? As in Flash Thompson? Why would he- Hang on, you’re not that guy are you? The one he always picks on? What was it? P- P- P- Percy? No, uh-”

“It’s Peter actually.”

“Right, Peter, sorry about that. This is (Y/N) by the way, if you know me that is.”

“Yeah, we’re in most classes together.”

“We are? My bad, I don’t pay much attention. Well, when this is over I’m gonna kill Flash. Okay, move back from the door, I have an idea.”

Peter moved as far back as he could in the tiny supply closet, waiting for your master plan. There was a loud thud against the door, followed by a pained groan.

“H-hey, are you alright?” Peter fretted.

“That was… That was a stupid plan.” You cringed. “New plan. I’m going to get some of the tools from workshop. Sit tight Peter, I’ll be right back.”

Peter sat down, leaning against the wall as he had before you came along. He debated what he’d tell Aunt May and Uncle Ben this time, after all, there would be no explaining the- Loud scraping of metal on metal interrupted his thoughts.

“You’re back.” He declared happily.

“Uh-huh.” You answered distractedly, attacking the door hinges with a screwdriver and hammer. It took just under half an hour of hacking inexpertly at the tight metal before you managed to remove the hinges completely. You grabbed the door quickly, easing it to the floor to let Peter out.

“Done.” You panted tiredly, staring at the mess you’d made.

“Thank you, I’m sorry I put you through so much trouble.”

“It’s no big deal, I’m just glad-” You turned to Peter, “Good God man.” You stated, appalled at the sight before you.

Peter’s face was covered in cuts and bruises, his left eye was swollen and purple, and there was dried blood, which had made its way from his nose to his shirt.

“Did Flash and his gang do this to you?” You whispered incredulously.

“Uh yeah, sorry.” Peter apologised, hating the worry on your face. “It’s fine really. I’m sure Flash just has his own troubles and-”

“No. This isn’t okay so don’t go acting like it is. Come on, we have to get you cleaned up before your cuts get infected or something.”

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Peter questioned apprehensively as you tried each key on the bunch for the nurse’s office. “Isn’t this breaking the rules?”

“Peter, I just broke down a door, I think this is acceptable.” You pushed the door open. “Now sit down, I need to get a cloth.”

Peter perched on the edge of a bed while you rifled through some drawers, “Cloths are in the second drawer and saline solution is in the cupboard on your right.” he explained.

“I’m guessing you spend a lot of time in here.” You got the items, moving back to him.

“A little more than I should.”

You prepared the solution on the cloth, “This may sting a little.”

You dabbed his face gently, clearing away the blood where you could. Peter sat silently, suddenly bashful at your proximity.

“So, where do you live anyway?” You asked while you worked.

“What? Uh, w-why?”

“It’s late, I don’t want you walking home alone in the dark.”

“What about you? If you walked me home, who would walk you home?”

“Look, just tell me where you live, who knows? It may be right next to me but I won’t know until you tell me.”

“I live in Forest Hills but you don’t have to-”

“No way, I live in the street around the corner.” You lied, doing whatever it took to get Peter home.

“Really?” Peter lit up excitedly.

“Yeah, come on, I think I’ve done all I can here. I’ll lock up and we can go.”

“Uh (Y/N), what about the supply room door?”

“What the principal doesn’t know can’t hurt us, he’ll probably just assume it was just some vandal; God knows the school’s full of ‘em. Now let’s go, it’s bad enough walking through New York in the day, it’s even worse at night and I don’t know about you but I don’t have any bus money so I’d rather set off now.”

“Where could he have got to May?” Ben Parker paced restlessly around his living room, waiting for the phone to ring.

“Ben-” May started, looking through the net curtains.

“I should be out there looking for him.”


“It’s been hours now.”

“Ben!” May raised her voice slightly, startling her husband. She smiled serenely, “Peter’s outside and it looks like he’s brought a friend.”

“What?” Ben joined his wife at the window. Peter’s back was facing the pair but they could just see you in front of him.

“Do you think he’s been out on a date?” May gushed ecstatically.

“Now May, it could just be a friend.”

“Either way, our little Peter hasn’t brought many people over before.”

“What do you suppose they’re talking about out there?”

“I don’t know, oh let’s invite them in, I’d love to meet Peter’s new friend.”

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Ben asked a little too late, May was already heading towards the door.

She threw it open enthusiastically, “Peter dear, welcome home. Come now, why don’t you introduce us to your friend?”

Peter blushed awkwardly, “A-aunt May-” he stuttered.

You looked behind Peter to see his aunt and uncle in the doorway. They motioned you inside, “Come now dear, no need to be shy.” May cooed at you.

“Sorry about this.” Peter whispered, nervous that you would hate his family and think him a loser. In truth, he loved his family more than anything so if you disliked them he knew he wouldn’t have anything to do with you from then on.

You walked past Peter to the front door, “Hello, I’m (Y/N), it’s a pleasure to meet you.” You stuck your hand out which Ben shook amiably.

“Please dear, come inside, we’d love to hear how you know our Peter.” May beamed.

“Oh, um- I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Nonsense, it wouldn’t be a bother.”

“Uh, well I suppose, if Peter doesn’t mind.”

Peter finally joined you, “No, not at-”

His aunt gasped, “Oh my, Peter what happened to your face? It wasn’t those boys again was it?”

“Uh, no. No, it wasn’t, it was actually um-”

“No, I can tell you, I saw the whole thing.” You jumped in, saving Peter from whatever mess of an explanation he’d come up with. “Peter actually slipped on something at the top of the stairs and fell down half a flight. It was reported to the principal and I took him to the nurse’s office; it was all just a clumsy mistake.”

“Peter, you really must be more careful.” May chastised mildly. “Still, it’s good you had such a nice friend to help you. Now come on in out of the cold you two, I’ll make everyone a nice cup of tea.”

Over the next twenty minutes, you were asked all manner of questions which you answered gladly, knowing that if your family met Peter, they’d probably do the same to him. You found May and Ben to be lovely people who clearly adored their nephew. It almost made you reluctant to announce you had to leave.

“Are you sure you won’t stay for dinner?” May offered.

“No thank you, I should be getting home ASAP.”

“Where do you live dear? I wouldn’t want you walking home alone in the dark.”

“Aunt May, (Y/N) lives just around-” Peter started until you gave him a look and shook your head.

“I um, I actually live in the city, but if I start walking now I can be home in an hour or two.”

“Peter,” Ben scolded, “you let (Y/N) come with you all this way even though (s)he lives in the city. How could you be so irresponsible?”

“It’s alright, really. Peter didn’t know where I lived, I didn’t tell him.” You explained. “It was nice meeting you both, I hope I’ll get to again. See you later Peter.” You got up to leave.

“Hey now, it wouldn’t be right to let you go out alone in the pitch black. What kind of person would I be if I allowed you to do that? Come with me and we’ll go in the car.”


“No buts, come on now.”

You knew there was no way you would win the argument against Ben Parker; he was the very image of how a guardian should behave. You followed him out of the house apologising for the inconvenience.

When the car pulled away, May turned to Peter, gushing, “(S)he is a lovely one, that (Y/N). You should ask him/her out before someone else does.”

“Aunt May-” Peter blushed.

“Now, now, I saw the way you looked at (Y/N), it’s the same way your father looked at your mother when they first met.”

“(Y/N)’s just a friend.”

“For now maybe but that can change quite easily.”

Peter shuffled awkwardly on the sofa.

“Alright.” May relented. “I’ll drop it for now but we both know I’m right.”

She walked away, leaving Peter to his thoughts. You were one of the first people to really acknowledge him in school and you’d met his family all in one day, how could he not have a crush on you? Despite that, he was sure you were just being polite and that everything would go back to normal on Monday because who would admit to liking him in front of the other students?

Much to Peter’s amazement, you didn’t ignore him on the following Monday. In fact, from then on you made extra efforts to sit with him in class, work together on group projects, and even meet him when you could outside of school. Your friendship endured even when Peter started acting unusual, disappearing on occasion, and making peculiar excuses not to meet you. Although you wanted to know what was wrong with him, you stopped asking because he became fidgety and uncomfortable whenever you did. After a year as your friend, Peter decided it was finally time to ask you out; as soon as Valentine’s day rolled around he was going to visit your house, take flowers, and hope you wouldn’t reject his affections.

Peter checked himself out in the mirror. He had a million questions right now but nobody to ask them to. Was his outfit okay or would a suit be better than jeans and a t-shirt? Were the dozen red roses he was holding too much or not enough? Should he slick his hair back? How would he ask the question? Would he suddenly blurt it out in a moment of clarity or would he stand gawkily spluttering clumsy words? His multitude of questions were interrupted by the phone downstairs, he ran to get it since his Aunt and Uncle were away on a day-long date.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Peter, where are you?” You asked. “You said you were coming over to work on our Science project today or did you forget?”

Peter cursed himself silently, he’d been so busy getting ready that he’d forgotten the excuse he’d made to visit you.

“Uh… yeah. I’m on my way now, it’s just that to make our uh presentation board we’ll need tacks and I went to the store here but they don’t have any.”

“Oh, no problem, you just get over here when you can and I’ll pick up some tacks at our store.”

“Great, I’ll uh, see you soon (Y/N).”

“Okie doke, see you soon, bye.”

The phone clicked off. Peter looked at the clock on the wall, he’d have to hurry if he wanted to ask you out before your family got home. He ran upstairs, grabbing his backpack. There was only one thing that would get him to your place in good time; for this job, he would have to be Spiderman.

You threw the tacks in your bag on the way back home from the store, absentmindedly taking the shortcut through the back allies to your apartment block as you always did when it was cold.

“That sure is a nice lookin’ bag you got there.” A lanky man in a cut off denim vest and jeans croaked.

“Excuse me?” You turned to face the man.

“I’ll bet it’s worth a pretty penny or two.”

“W-What do you want?” You demanded shakily.

“That depends really don’t it. How much do you have?”

He pulled a switchblade out, grinning maliciously. You took a few steps backwards, keeping an eye on him until two meaty arms wrapped around your chest.

You screamed and bucked, craning your neck to see your attacker, another man who was clearly in league with the first, sneered as you writhed against him. The first man came closer, swaying his knife around, “I think this is going to be a fun day.”

“Wait.” You shrieked. “I’ll give you everything I have. Please, you don’t have to do this.”

“Have to? No. But I do want to, I like hearing people scream.”

“Wow.” Sarcastic clapping brought everyone’s attention to the vigilante Spiderman, who was stood only a few feet away. “Real great show everybody but it won’t make it to stage if someone dies in the first scene.”

“What the hell are you on about?” Denim jacket waved his knife in Spiderman’s direction.

“Wait! This isn’t a play rehearsal? Damn, if it was I was gonna add a scene where the two idiots got arrested and the victim goes free… Oh well, I guess I can do that anyway.”

You watched disbelievingly as the other thug let go of you, ready to go head-to-head with Spiderman. You didn’t know what to say about the scene in front of you as you stood, paralysed, watching it unfurl. It took only about two minutes for Spiderman to incapacitate the two men, leaving them stuck against the wall, presumably for the police to find.

He approached you, completely relaxed. “Are you alright? Did they hurt you?”

You swallowed thickly, your suspicions confirmed, then in a low voice you whispered, “Peter?”

Spiderman stumbled back, stunned. “Wha- Who? I don’t know any-”

“Stop. Don’t insult me like this Pe- uh Spiderman.”

You turned to leave the way you’d came but were stopped as Spiderman grabbed your wrist. “Can I… Can we talk about this?”

You hesitated before nodding uncertainly. Spiderman grabbed you around the waist tightly, using his web slingers to take off into the sky. Cold air whipped across your face as you clung tightly to him, both exhilarated and terrified until he stopped at the top of a nearby building, about 20 stories off the ground.

“How did you know?” He asked, sounding less confident than before.

“No matter how you disguise it, I know your voice by now.” You kept a safe distance from the friend you thought you knew. “How- I mean… You were always the guy who took photos but like… Were you born like this? Hell, are you even from this planet?”

“You’ve definitely been reading too much Superman.”

“Okay, drop the sarcasm mister or I’ll uh, very slowly climb down the fire escape, I guess.” You peeked over the edge of the building dubiously.

“It’s a long story with a radioactive spider and I know it’s weird but this is new to me too. Do you… do you accept me as Spiderman?”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice.” You replied sardonically, then switching to concern you asked, “Do you get hurt a lot?”


“Is this where you’re always disappearing?”


“Okay.” You clambered onto the fire escape.

“Wait, (Y/N) where are you going?” he asked, alarmed.

“I just need some time to figure this out because I’ve just found out my best friend is a vigilante superhero who disappears often to get into fights with strangers.”

“Hang on, please don’t be like this, I- Just stay here for two minutes, can you do that for me?”

You exhaled tiredly, rubbing your forehead, “Sure, fine, whatever.”

“Great, I’ll be right back.”

Spiderman zipped away, leaving you on the fire escape to survey the city below; it seemed peaceful to be above it all. You could almost see the advantage of having powers like Peter’s. The peace didn’t last long however as Spiderman flung himself back onto the roof, landing behind you. When you faced him, you saw that his hands were behind his back and he was shuffling nervously.

“I uh, I planned to do this properly but considering everything… here.”

He pulled a very wilted bouquet of roses from behind his back, the heads had fallen off a few and the rest had shed most of their petals from the journey up. The sight of them made you smile wearily as you took hold of them gently.

“Thank you?”

“It’s Valentine’s day.” Peter blurted.

“That it is. So, is this you asking me out?”

“Yeah. If you don’t like it though, I can try again, we could do it a different way, or-”

You put up a hand to stop Peter’s babbling, “I um, I still need to get my head around everything so I’m just going to head home now.”

“WAIT!” Peter put his hand out. “Uh… Look, I understand if you don’t want to see me again but please, I’ve gotta ask you, you won’t tell the police about this will you?”

“Excuse me?” You said, affronted by the question. “What kind of cretin do you take me for? I would never in a million years, tell the police that my boyfriend was Spiderman.”

The whites of Peter’s mask widened in surprise, “B-boyfriend.”

You grinned. “Yes, boyfriend. Now, either you give me a lift to my apartment block or I climb this fire escape. Either way, it’s an adventure.”

Peter ran over to you clumsily; he was too lost in his ecstasy to speak. Instead, he simply grabbed hold of you and vaulted confidently off the roof to take you home.

Lil’ Petshop of Pocket!Vampires

I like to entertain the idea of a pet store that sells pocket!vampires and the stuff that is needed to properly care for them. Imagine some of them being kept in the same area with others of themselves, like gerbils. 

For example, pocket!Shu(s) tend to sleep in a corner keeping each other warm, some like to bury themselves under the wood shavings. Others fall asleep in the food bowl. One curls up and the others instinctively move to sleep next to it. It’s probably recommended that you buy at least two. As pets, they don’t require much space. Still, you need to nudge them frequently. Do not ever trust that they are dead and flush them; they’re probably just pretending to be dead so you won’t bother them. 

  • Cagemates: Other pocket!Shu(s) are preferred, but pocket!Yui(s) are ok, just make sure she can get back to her own cage. NEVER house with pocket!Reiji(s). Pocket!Yuma(s) are a 50/50, though.

Pocket!Ayato(s) would be best kept separately, like male betta fish, because they can be quite competitive and territorial. It’s even preferred to make sure they can’t see each other because one of them will start a petty squabble which will just end in frustration because they can’t throw a punch through glass. It’s best to handle them with thick gloves for the first few weeks because they like to bite. A lot. If your pocket!Ayato isn’t biting you at all, he’s probably sick. They are highly responsive to the reward system and praise. Easily trained.

  • Cagements: Pocket!Laito(s), and sometimes, pocket!Yui, but not without supervision. They like to pick on things smaller than them. NEVER house with pocket!Ruki or pocket!Reiji. You’re just asking for trouble. 

Pocket!Laito(s) are best kept with other pocket vampires, but not with each other, because they tend to be too cunning for their own good. Do not keep a pocket!Laito in a container without at least five mentally stimulating toys for them to play with. They will try to break out of their cage and sneak into other cages and instigate trouble if they’re bored. If you can’t find them in their cage, you can try to lure them out with macarons. They’re rather fond of those, especially the green ones.

  • For cagemates, they do well with pocket!Ayato(s) and pocket!Kanato(s). NEVER leave a Pocket!Yui alone with them without supervision.    

Pocket!Subaru(s) are solitary. However, they do need social interaction, but on THEIR terms. You can buy one and let him get to know you, but if you’re going to be away, you can buy a pocket!Yui as well, but keep them in adjoining cages instead of one cage. Make sure, however, that there is always plenty of hiding places for pocket!Subaru. They tend to be moody. Also, make sure to reinforce their cage every once in a while. Those weird dents? Yeah, they’re made by pocket!Subaru. If it bothers you, you can try buying one of our tiny punching bags made just for them. 

  • For cagemates, they do best with pocket!Yui(s), sometimes pocket!Shu(s), and occasionally pocket!Kou(s), but it depends on the individual. 

Pocket!Kanato(s) tend to be temperamental pets and are better suited for owners who have some experience. They require the most patience, and are known to bond only with one handler. Feed them different candies per day. They enjoy variety and picking which hand has the candy. Even if they don’t eat them, they like to collect them. They also like the crinkly sound that some wrappers make. Do not force them to exercise, they have the fastest metabolism and sugar burns fast anyway. 

  • For cagemates, they do best with pocket!Reiji(s) and pocket!Laito. NEVER put them with a pocket!Azusa. 
  • Special note: the Teddy bear came with them. We’re not sure how, but every shipment of pocket!Kanato(s) have their own teddy.

Pocket!Reiji(s) are, next to pocket!Ruki and pocket!Yuma, the most self-sufficient as pets. Pocket!Reiji(s) are so independent, that at times the owner may wonder if it’s them who picked the Pocket!Reiji, or the other way around. They have a keen eye for detail and perfection, and they will refuse food if it’s not up to THEIR standards. But the wonderful trade-off for having this seemingly troublesome pet is that you can be very successful with your grades or business. No other pet can brag about this.

  • Cagemates: While pocket!Reiji(s) prefer to be left alone, they do fine with pocket!Ruki(s). It’s speculated by owners that both have similar demands for excellence from their keepers. NEVER house with pocket!Shu. 

…Idek what happened, I just started typing and this is what came out. I may do the others later. :|

Rogues as shopper types

Jonathan Crane: The extreme coupon/bargain hunter. You want 27 orange juice containers for some reason? He’s got a coupon for that. You want a bunch of guns without the consequence of blackmail later? He’s got 3 coupons for that. You want a pack of Oreo’s, but don’t have a coupon?  Well put that shit back on the shelf b/c it’s the coupon way or fear toxin way, no exception.

Edward Nigma: The thrift shop prowler. May it be a Value Village or some obscure store, he will have visited it at some point. Why spend $50 on a new cane when you can get an old one for 99 cents, and just modify it? Where else do you think he buys so many suits, Abercomie & Finch? Nah, he’s too busy devising plots designed for tormenting Batman to make money for that. He’ll wear your grandpa’s hand me downs any day, and just say it’s high class (What? It probably was at some point).

Poison Ivy: The window browser, aka the ‘i’m shopping but not really’ type. Spends more time admiring the clothes than actually buying them, unless she’s with friends, in which case she may indulge a bit. If she see’s someone else admiring clothes, she will vigorously insist they try it on until they decide to buy it. She’ll probably have everyone else blowing all the money before the end of the trip, and then walk away herself with a full wallet. The only exception to this is the organic beauty product store, or any organic store in fact. All products will be bought from the shelf before the end of the hour, and some poor sucker will be seduced into carrying it home for her. What a queen.

Harley Quinn: The no limit spender. Every shopping trip is a fresh challenge to see how far she can push the newest credit card she stole. Everything she buys is worth it in her eyes, and if she ever runs short, she can call up some ‘gal-pals’ to persuade Mr.Wayne into loaning his money to them again. Even though it barely stays in her hands, she seems to always have an endless flow of cash from somewhere.

Jervis Tetch: The know it all. This man is in the scene. You want tea? He knows a store. You want cute doily shit and flower headbands? He knows a store. You want mind controlling technology and maybe some cat food? He can probably hook you up with the mind tech, but he knows a store for cat food as well. You want books on neurosciences and the working of the brain? He knows several bookstores with that shit, cause he shops there frequently. You want access to the most exclusive stores in town? He can do that. He’s a shopping champ.

Harvey Dent: The indecisive shopper. Go shopping with him, and you’ll spend more time looking at the stuff in the store than actually buying it. He’ll hum, and huh, and flip his way through every item that may have caught his attention. If he see’s a suit, he’ll spend a solid 20 minutes deciding if it’d be better two toned, or monotone. Don’t try to tell him to buy it or not either, or you’ll be standing for even longer as he contemplates wringing your neck in the store or parking lot.

Joker: The erratic buyer. He’ll go from socks to swords in minutes, and you probably won’t fully grasp what the fuck is going on throughout the entire trip. He’ll be pushing a cart that’ll have kazoos, guns, a goldfish, twenty something pairs of underwear, a golf club, and a laser cat pointer, and somehow he’ll manage to make it into a functional plan. Only shop with him if you want to get doused with laughing gas, or get a massive headache out of sheer confusion. Whichever one comes first.

Victor Fries: The miracle worker. Browses around, purchases only the necessities, chips in to help whenever you’re a dollar short or something, somehow knows all the best deals, and is the ideal shopping buddy. Just keep him away from stores involving ice, cryotechnology, or couples things. It may be several hours before he decides to leave them.

Oswald Cobblepot: The snob. His motto is ‘Shop? Why shop when you can just commission everyone to make the clothes for you!’. He’d rather invite Black Mask to tango dancing than be caught in a Target.

So imagine an alternate universe where Age of Ultron went a little more in the action/horror genre than the action/comedy. Imagine if instead of Wanda and Pietro joining Hydra for revenge, they had been captured and forced to have experiments preformed on them. 

When the Avengers arrive, Hydra tries to sneak Wanda and Pietro out without the Avengers knowing. In the process, the siblings are separated. Despite their separation, Wanda and Pietro escape their bindings. Wanda manages to escape first and in her attempts to flee she finds the secret room Tony later finds. Meanwhile Pietro escapes and races around to find her but does not right away. He bumps into the Avengers though, but he doesn’t stick around long enough for any of them talk to him. 

By this point, Tony stumbles into the secret room. Tony sees the scepter, but before he grabs it, he hears something fall. He goes to investigate it. Wanda and he collide, and Wanda, in her panic, uses her powers. Tony has his vision. Cue Pietro arriving, but when he tries to take Wanda away, for reasons unknown to him, she refuses to leave. 

 The other Avengers show up, see the twins, see Tony is slightly out of it, and see the scepter. Cut to a witty remark from Cap then cut to title card. 

The Avengers have brought the twins to the tower. It’s clear to them that the twins were victim. Maria reads off the information she has on the twins. Cap says that it’s a good thing that the twins were brought to Avengers tower. Maria pauses for a moment then says, “You’re not expecting to keep them here, right?” Cap says that they will, which launches us into a Civil War foreshadowing debate about the legality of their actions. Cap wants to ensure the twins are protected and safe, and he doesn’t trust the authorities. He worries that the authorities will think the twins are criminals and not prisoners. 

Maria points out that the twins aren’t citizens and that the Avengers have already broken a few laws in the process of bringing the twins here, and that while they can work something out, keeping the twins a secret could lead them to more legal trouble. Steve ignores her though.

While this is going on, Tony is jittery and nervous; although, he tries to hide it. Like in canon, Tony convinces Bruce to help him work on the Ultron project. At this point though, he hasn’t pushed to use the mind stone. 

This is where the movie goes into horror story mode.

Wanda has locked herself away in one of the guest rooms. Pietro is there and trying to comfort her/convince her they should leave. 

Wanda’s hands and eyes are glowing. She keeps saying she has to undo what she’s done. Pietro grows attigated, and grabs her shoulder. With a gasp, Wanda unleashes her powers and red lights zoom off in all directions. 

Wanda is horrified then furious. She whirls on Pietro. “What did you make me do?” 

The lights find their way to the Avengers, but unlike in canon when she messed with their brains and mentally transported them, all of the Avengers are still cognizent of their surroundings. Except Clint swears he saw his brother from the corner of his eye, and Natasha knows she heard the whispers of her instuctors coming from the training room. Thor sees Loki and follows him until he he almost gets crushed by the machines in Tony’s labs. Steve walks into a room to find Peggy standing there, smiling at him, only for her to be shot in the back of the head by the WInter Solider. 

The nightmare visions grow stronger, until they reach the point in which around every corner the Avengers are transported into horrorfic scene based off their worst fears. 

As the Avenger face off against their demons, something even more sinister is afoot.

For you see, when the Avengers were inffected, it wasn’t just them. Wanda’s power hit the mind stone, and in doing so, triggered something in it. The stone has continued to feed Tony’s and Bruce’s fear, to the point that Bruce flees to lock himself away, only to be overcome by fear and hulk out. 

The mind stone combined with Wanda’s powers though have taken control of Tony, and Tony finishes making Ultron. 

Meanwhile Wanda and Pietro are trying to help the Avengers through their personal demons and fighting the Hulk. 

Once the fights are over, it doesn’t take long for everyone to realize that Tony is either about to make a huge mistake or is in danger. The team rushes to go save him, only to find him collapsed and one of Tony’s bots hovering over him. Ultron.

They try to fight Ultron but the effects of Wanda’s powers still have a hold on them, not only that, but it seems Ultron with the mind stone is able to trigger their nightmares. The team just isn’t able to combat Ultron. 

Wanda and Pietro do make a dent though. The other bots of Tony that Ultron summons to the fight are easily destroyed, and Pietro and Wanda come close to getting Ultron, but fumble. 

Ultron takes off, and the Avengers are left reeling. 

They take time to heal and for Tony to return to consciousness. They spend time relfecting upon the visions they saw and try to help and support each other through those nightmares. They all grow closer (even Wanda and Pietro).

Similiar to canon, they realize Ultron wants Vibranium and track him down. That is where they have their final fight. Wanda uses her powers to combat the nightmares given off by the mind stone, and the Avengers work together to beat Ultron then and there.   

After the climax we see the Avengers bonding and a few of them going off on their own journey (Bruce is shaken by the events of Ultron so he borrows a quinjet so he can go off on his own for a while and process). Before everyone says goodbye though, we cut to a scene in which Tony reveals with a little help from Wanda he was able to complete the Ultron program with a few adjustments. 

Tony introduces the team to Vision. 

Everyone says their goodbyes then part ways. 

Those who stayed behind though are about to start their training, so Steve has them line up and says, “Avengers A-”

End Credits. 

Just Wanna Hold Your Hand

This story is a (belated) birthday gift for my wonderful friend, @grapefruitwannabe! But since I’m posting it on Valentine’s Day, I figure it can be her valentine too (cc: @inuyasha-valentines). So, happy birthday, my lovely! And on this Day of Valentines, I offer you the gift of InuKag love.

Inuyasha had never faced a challenge like this one. Nothing else he’d ever come up against—surviving childhood, fighting bloodthirsty demons out to skin hanyō hide, enduring ubiquitous contempt and ostracization from both humans and demons, being pinned to a damned tree for 50 years—none of it compared to the sheer heart-pounding terror of the task ahead of him.

He was going to try holding Kagome’s hand.

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[jon x sansa] french 75

based on the first item on this list of jonsa meet cutes by @direwolfpupy and @soapieturner | i couldn’t help myself

The bar was pretty packed when Sansa stepped in, the door shutting behind her automatically and causing a gust of the cold air from outside to prickle the hairs on the back of her neck.

It was warm inside however, thankfully, so she shrugged off her coat, craning her neck to look around the premises to see if Marg or Jeyne had arrived yet. There was the loud chatter of people, drinks clinking against each other, the occasional cheer from the classic drunk blokes in the corner; typical bar scene.

She would have gotten there later — after all, they had said seven, not six thirty — but class had wrapped up sooner than she had expected, and rather than wait at uni, she had walked here before. What was one extra drink while she waited for the girls to join her?

Slinging her coat unto her elbow, Sansa made her way through the bodies towards the bar, glancing at the labels on the beer taps pensively. She waited patiently for the couple people to her side to finish ordering their drinks before stepping up to the till just as the bartender on shift turned to face her. His hair was pulled back into a bun but he had loose curls on either side of his face and flopping onto his forehead, and Sansa found him rather cute. “Hi,” she greeted him with a smile.

“Hello,” he returned with one of his own, all white teeth and dimpled. Of course he’d be dimpled. “What would you like?”

Sansa drummed her fingers on the bartop a little bit, suddenly caught between getting her usual glass of Prosecco or a more low key pint. “Any recommendations?” she settled for, perhaps lilting her voice somewhat.

The guy smirked a half-smile and reached over to rest his hand on the tap nearest to him. “House beer’s pretty good, but you look like you drink something fancier?”

“Perhaps,” she admitted, slyly, catching his eye and darting her glance off when he didn’t look away. She was hardly be the first girl to flirt with a bartender. “Surprise me, then.”

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Guess Who’s Back - Part 2

Summary: Jerome takes you and Bruce as hostages at the circus, with specific plans for the both of you

Requested: Yes 

Tags: @hair-dye-or-nawh

Warnings: None

A/N: Part 1 

Bruce looked at your unconscious body on the floor, he crawled to you and wrapped his arms around you. 

“Y/N baby? Wake up.” He said patting your cheek lightly and putting a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“You son of a bitch!” Bruce yelled and Jerome shrugged clearly unbothered. 

“If anything happens to her I will make you pay.” Bruce said. Jerome burst out into fits of laughter, he hunched over grabbing his stomach. 

“Wow kid you are really funny, it’s hilarious because you won’t do crap.” He stopped laughing and his face darkened once again.

“Don’t you worry I won’t do nothing to my precious doll.” Jerome said stroking your cheek which angered Bruce even more. 

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♛The Dragon’s Euphony♛

-Chapter One-

Author: Jaegeronice
Pairing(s): Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku/Bakugou Katsuki
Setting: In a Fantasy world filled with sorcery and species unknown, the dragons rule above all, yet they are unseen by most. Due to the rare abilities of Izuku Midoriya, he has been tasked with the role of “Dragon Keeper” as the human guardian for the entire Wyvern race. But Midoriya, as usual, gets himself caught up in a mess where he has to embark on a quest with a barbaric King of the Wilds, a love struck Prince, and a reckless bounty hunter to get back what he had lost.
- Dragon Keeper!Midoriya Izuku
- Prince!Todoroki Shouto
- “King”!Bakugou Katsuki
- Bounty Hunter!Kirishima Eijiro
(And several others)
Tags: Violence, Blood, Slight NSFW, Slight Angst/Tension, slow burn for the plot. No quirks.

Originally posted by kacchanns

The snake-like olive dragon that coiled over his companion’s shoulders hissed into his ear, digging into the rough embroidery of Midoriya’s tunic with pinched claws. “Are you sure you want to intertwine those vials together, Izuku?”

“I’m sure, Cyril,” the boy lied.

“The book said to add ½ of Arcane Barrier Elixir and a drop of Lion’s Strength,” the dragon pointed out with disinterest.

“So it says, yes.”

“What you have in your hand is essence of brewed mushroom.”

At these words Midoriya sweat noticeably, clutching the little crystal bottle in his shaking fingertips. The luminous colors of deep violet and smokey orange swirled and bubbled like mist, beckoning Midoriya to loose the cap and set the magic free. Yet he did not. He hesitated. “Brewed mushroom? But it’s labeled as Lion’s Strength…”

Cyril, the dragon no bigger than a house cat, flickered his tongue impatiently. “Common blunder, you uneducated swine,” the dragon snapped rudely. Despite Cyril was not all impressive in size, he was vicious and rampant before Izuku got to him. The old kitchen had burst into flames at least six times by the time the arrogant beast was reasoned with. In the end, Midoriya always had a knack for finding a personal connection between him and these undomesticated reptiles.

“You’re tricking me again. I can guarantee that it’s Lion’s Strength,” Midoriya feigned confidence, grasping the cork stopper that plugged the neck of the philter.

Surely he was correct, right?

Midoriya peered down into the dented iron basin, staring at the ingredients that flickered, writhed, bubbled, and even made sounds of their own. Dragon Alchemy was certainly a feat in itself, and despite years of trying to master it even with a real dragon’s help, he still couldn’t get it right.

“Must you wait any longer? The soul will run off if you don’t do something soon,” Cyril warned, flapping his leathery green wings in annoyance.

Midoriya shut his eyes, hastily drawing in a breath as he popped off the flask topper, tipping the silvery contents into the bowl. When said contents mixed in with the others and began to contort to its own will, Midoriya braced himself for an impact in the events that the potion would backfire, as usual.

But nothing came.

“Izuku,” Cyril nudged him, having the boy open his eyes. Peering down, he approached the basin to which his eyes soaked in the wispy fluid that formed in the bowl, glowing a yellowish hue that resembled harvested sunlight.

“Wow,” Midoriya breathed, snatching his tattered journal sewn of animal hides to quickly jot down words with a long feather quill as he mumbled to himself restlessly. “The progress seems to be increasing. Hopefully this time we have the potion correct, albeit the ingredients were really hard to scavenge and-” His string of thought was severed as he felt a sharp sting in the flesh of his ear, seconds later having realized that that was where Cyril had bitten him. He yelped and clutched the side of his face, simultaneously checking for blood. “What was that for!?”

“Look, you imbecile!” Snarled the dragon once more, yanking on his collar fervently.

Midoriya heeded to the beast’s impetuous behavior, dragging his gaze back to the basin. What once was a charming bubbly liquid, was now a hot smoldering mass that glazed with different chroma than the previous. An odd brownish purple tint to the frankly unappealing, murky amber substance. “That’s not supposed to happen, is it?” Midoriya crooked a finger in the direction of the steaming disappointment that now moiled and churned in on itself.

“What do you think?” Cyril cocked his head to the side, his slim reptilian features exuding the very finest dish of sarcasm that a scheming winged creature could offer.

Midoriya cursed bitterly in the language of the dragons, sparing himself none but the sight of the rising sun beyond the window ajar, before the forsaken concoction promptly blew up in his face. He hacked and wheezed, flailing his arms in an attempt to wave away the smoke that plumed into air and permeated every feasible crevice. He tasted the grimy ash and rancid fumes that flavored his saliva bitter and burned the inside of his nostrils. He opened his streaming eyes to gaze upon the char that coated all surfaces, ensuring another week of cleaning ahead of him.

Cyril retracted his claws from Midoriya’s shoulder and leaped away, flapping his razor-like wings in a flurry before landing onto the blackened table, sitting on his haunches stoutly. The dragon extended a claw to prod at the cap of a mushroom that began to grow in place of the backfired potion.

“I told you it was essence of brewed mushroom,” Cyril commented drily with a dull sense of gray humor.

“Kinda figured that,” Midoriya uttered keenly, concentrated on plucking off all of the mushrooms that cultivated, making themselves at home on his handcrafted attire. He leveled his eyes with one of the uninvited fungi, glaring at it as if it was an old adversary come back to haunt him. He rolled the stem between his fingers, thoroughly investigating the outcome of the failed draught.

“These are edible, by the way,” Cyril noted, chewing on a few of them himself. With further inspection, Midoriya could confirm that the mushrooms were undoubtedly palatable - to humans, at least. Dragons bore a staunchly digestive system that wouldn’t feeble to something as tedious as food poisoning.

“Interesting. With half of an Arcane Barrier Elixir, a tuft of dried skull grass, the soul of a toad, and a drop of essence of brewed mushroom; the outcome doubles as both a hefty smoke bomb and a food source!” Midoriya recited to himself as he sifted through his crammed data log again to record his discovery.

Cyril’s cerulean cat-like eyes narrowed, a misty third eyelid wiping across his orbs concurrently. “Izuku, you’re ranting again.”

Midoriya snapped the fattened book shut, tucking it under his arm. “But we have discovered something, nonetheless. Why hunt for toadstools when we can just use Dragon Alchemy to materialize them?”

“I think you’re skipping the point. Your past mentor would not encourage this reckless use of Alchemy,” Cyril picked at his gleaming olive scales with hooked obsidian claws, grooming himself apathetically. The small dragon tucked his head under his wing to gnaw on his itchy leg, while Midoriya found himself sighing wistfully in thought.

True, the previous keeper of the dragons was his teacher and a dear old friend. But only recently did the dragon master pass away, leaving Midoriya in his wake to finish the legacy of the Wyvern patriarchy. It was only natural that the boy take up this job, as he was gifted with the ability to speak the language at birth. But he still had a long winding path to go, with no foresight of where the future would lead him.

“I guess you’re right,” Midoriya slumped down into the nearest chair, disheartened.

Midoriya Izuku was unlike any dragon keeper alive. Mostly due to the fact that he was the last one alive. Dragons have a nasty habit of eating the hand that feeds them - and charring the rest to ash and bones for a light snack.

Midoriya was bestowed the unnatural talent that became his hope to further understand the magical culture birthed from the sacred beginnings of time itself. He was fluent in Draconispök, the long lost language of the Wyvern race. Ever since he was a baby, he could talk to dragons without a thought or care in his head. No matter how much he wondered why, he never really got the answer he desired.

But it was more complex than that, it seemed.

When you first find out that you can communicate with a fire breathing winged animal, you’d be elated. Only, if you knew what they had to say about you, the appeal forms the task to stay sane without hinder. So the journey of understanding the almost unapproachable mighty creatures became all the more difficult. Yet, Midoriya had a luckier break than most that tried to tame the dragons, due to his rare capabilities.

“I am not worthy enough to bear my mentor’s acclaimed title, nor am I ready to tell the world of his unfortunate passing,” Midoriya sank further into his crestfallen ideals, thick of heavy expectations to uphold.

Cyril noticed the boy’s change in temperament, that furtively disturbed his cold and twisted dragon heart. While he did not fancy Midoriya all that much, pertaining to the fact that he was a human and humans were lesser beings than dragons, Cyril preferred Midoriya above anyone else. He was the one who had rescued Cyril - the runt of the dragon spawn, from the fate of being ritually devoured alive by the fresh kin of the nest. So it was safe to say that Midoriya had carved a place for himself in the immoral heart of the wicked little beast.

“It’s been a fortnight since last,” Cyril reminded, reclining his neck back as he shook his wings out in a shiver from a gush of the cold air.

Midoriya perked up, the true meaning behind the statement gripping his attention steadfast. He leaned forward in his old wood chair, an excited grin gracing his plain but admirable features. “Do you think she has awoken from her slumber?”

Cyril was satisfied to succeed in tempting the boy out of his short-lived depressed state. With a practiced nod of his serpentine crested head, he spoke with a hiss accenting his cryptic bestial dialect; “The winds and skies are exceptional at this time of year, it would be unheard of if she did not at least desire to spread her wings for even one flight.”

As if struck by lightning, Midoriya bolted up out of his seat and straightened the hem of his tunic, accordingly brushing his lush basil curls away from his eyes in an attempt to look presentable. After all, she was very important.

“Oh, we’re going now?” Cyril stirred from his comfortable posture on the burned table, his slithery tongue curling out as he broke into a yawn.

“Of course we are! After all, when was the last time you got to stretched your wings?” Midoriya inquired, standing on his tip toes to reach the loop of his leather satchel that hung off the coat hooks in the doorway to his home.

Cyril bared his teeth smugly as he raised his hooked wings in poised interest. “Too long,” the dragon mused, ready to embark on whatever Midoriya had in mind.

The dragon leapt into Midoriya’s awaiting arms, who caught him with a harrowed breath at the realization of how heavy the creature really was. But Cyril had already begun to claw his way up Midoriya’s chest to roost on the boy’s shoulder, his tail swiping side to side incessantly. If anything, Cyril was fond of hitching a ride on Midoriya’s back whenever he got the chance.

Midoriya slung the overflowing satchel over his neck and stomped into his scratchy lamb skin boots like he had done it a thousand times - before reaching after the door handle. With a rusty squeal and a metallic snap, the door swung open to welcome inside the newborn light of day, it’s smooth milky glow glossing over every rustic surface in Midoriya’s modest home. The serene murmur of the ocean waves lapping at the pebbled shore echoed in the distance, accompanied by the blurred streams of sunlight that split apart into gleaming rays as seagulls soared through the air, casting shadows onto the envious ground below them.

Izuku stepped out into the open air, inhaling the sweet scent of the sea breeze, and the nectarous aroma of the perennials blooming in vibrant clusters at the very root of his dwelling. He breathed out with a smile, opening his eyes to the bluest morning sky that stretched to endless longitude. The boy felt like he could just reach out and stroke his fingers through the pearly clouds, quenching his delight.

Midoriya hiked up the handbag securely, then set his right foot forward to bound down the timbered steps leading away from the unsullied porch and onto the gravelly path winding through wispy cattails and berried thickets. He passed by a dip in the groves, where lifeforms resided without a care in the world.

“Good morning Elfin, Sarra, Lilith!” Midoriya hurriedly greeted with a wave as he passed by an aeire of three sluggish dragons that curled in and over one another to conserve heat. A few heads perked up, while ears flicked in annoyance.

“You’re rather noisy for a dragon keeper,” he heard Sarra the dragon grumble to herself, dismissing all known relevance in the boy. The other dragons chuckled among themselves. Midoriya was used to this by now, to be slandered by the cruel tongue of the unsociable beasts; that after time allowed Midoriya as the only human to be affiliated with them. Despite how dragons detested assistance from inferior species, they had accepted Midoriya’s existence a long while ago and finally ceased attempting to fry him into a human spit stick.  

“Express my good wishes to Häeldwrin for me, will you?” Izuku exclaimed as he drew out of earshot. He spoke of Häeldwrin the eldest dragon, near blind in his final days, and without teeth to boast his long since retired ferocity that had drained away over the years. The dragons could not refuse, but a hiss and peeved mutters escaped nonetheless.

At the foot of the mountain, Midoriya began to climb. He craned his neck, dismissing the weight of Cyril on his back that only seemed to get heavier each counting second. “Can’t you just use your wings?”

“You said yourself that you wanted a challenge to achieve your desired physique,” the winged reptile countered, leaving Midoriya with no excuse to uphold. It wasn’t a lie, after all.

“Alright then,” the young dragon keeper huffed dryly. No words were exchanged as the trek up the steep mountainside persevered, yet a single complaint had passed Midoriya’s lips when he lost his footing once and dragon fire nearly singed away his curly tendrils in surprise.

Subsequently, they had arrived at their destination in less time than it had taken them two weeks prior.

Cyril hopped off of the shoulder he had clung to for narrowly an hour, releasing Midoriya from the burn of over-exertion that relaxed his tired muscles. Finally, they had made it to the top of the peak.

“It seems we have more newcomers,” Cyril spoke lowly, the distaste prominent in his tone.

Sitting up, Midoriya found himself greeted by a swarm of pale infant little dragons. The size and stature of the dragons made sense immediately, but what really gave it away was the babbled chirping and excited squawking as the fresh life practically dive bombed him from above with poorly navigated flight capacity.

“Ow,” he simply uttered as a baby spit a weak but painful ball of fire onto the back of his hand. He rubbed it sorely, occupied in patting out all of the little flames that burst onto his clothes. But out of the din, a familiar presence warmed him from head to toe. He ceased his frantic motions and peered up.

“Izuku,” a mellow, enchanting breath of a voice graced his ears, the inviting hum of the beautiful beast seeming to lull the unruly newborns to a quiet. A smile spread, lightening Midoriya’s features as he too was calmed by the sound. Cyril the dragon willingly bowed down to the giver of the voice, as did Midoriya, who payed respect without wither to the ethereal Wyvern of gold and clouds.

“Zephyri, we hope you have slept well,” Midoriya raises his head, blessing his eyes with the sight of heaven on earth once more. There, in the dusk of the shallow cave, emerged the radiant being of light and skies itself. She went by many names; The Ruler of Dragons, the Goddess of the Winds, or as Midoriya has been gifted to call her; Zephyri. Her snowy white scales shone of crested gold, and horns as vibrant as the heavenward fire star.

Some speak of myth; tales of her glorious wings that carried the winds with her wherever she traveled. But Midoriya didn’t care for myth. He had witnessed it with his own unclouded eyes.

“Please, no need to bow to me,” the divine dragon nudged her snout against the boy’s chin, empowering him to rise to his feet again.

Midoriya stood with no question, beckoning Cyril to do the same. He watched as Zephyri sat on her haunches, the size comparison to Izuku fairing well. After all, she wasn’t the biggest dragon in history, but certainly not the smallest. “Look around you, Izuku,” she tilted her head towards the direction of the mountain’s edge. “What do you see?”

Not expecting to start off with a whimsical inquiry as such, Midoriya questioned hesitantly. “I’m not sure I understand?”

“Take a good look beyond, and tell me what you make of it.”

Doing so, Midoriya gazed out into the distance. He could see the valley where he would rejoice with the dragons regularly on starry nights, the small wooden cabin that he called home, the sandy shores of the endless beach, and-

“Oceans. I see oceans as far as the horizon,” he answered earnestly. How could he have not seen it before? It was such an easy question. He was surrounded by oceans, every direction flooded with what seemed like endless deep blue. Seas encircled the very island that he stood upon, claiming it’s peak. It was the only dragon island to still thrive to this very day.

Zephyri strode up behind Midoriya and spread her wings, head sinking down until her nose skimmed the ground. “We’ll soar the skies today, Izuku, and watch the water blur beneath us with unmatched speed.”

The keeper’s heart raced. He knew that we was excited but now he felt unstoppable. Hastily, Midoriya gripped onto the saddle that dipped between her pearly wings, and swung his leg up and over effortlessly. He could feel the purr of anticipation beneath the dragon’s scales. She was just as prepared to fly as he was.

Midoriya already knew where he wanted to go. He had a place carved out in his mind with vivid detail. He imagined a cliff, overlooking a grand palace dipped in silvery rays of sunlight. Izuku knew that was where he had to go, because without a doubt - he’d stumble across a roaming prince.

Silence hastened as Zephyri leaned forward off the edge of the looming cliff, awaiting the one command that would set her free. It fell from Midoriya’s lips flawlessly and unsullied; the superior dialect of the dragons.

“Aeridirys,” he whispered. “Fly with me.”

Faster than the speed of sound, Zephyri leapt from the cliff, gliding through the sky with a swiftness unlike any other.

[To be continued]

Up next: A meeting with the Prince

Sorry for the spam yesterday. Taking in the news yesterday was hard, especially when it hasn’t even been a month since season 2 was released. My feelings about the cancellation have been changing back and forth between devastation and complete fury. Now that I’ve slept on it, it’s mostly just fury. I’ve just seen what the official reason was for the cancellation; the show was too expensive too produce and there were just not enough viewers of the show to justify it. 

That is an utter bullshit excuse if you ask me. 

First of all, ask yourself why the show had too few viewers. Did Netflix even try to properly promote the new season? The trailer for the Christmas special was released a week before the episode actually aired, and nothing else. Keeping in mind that it had been a year and a half since season 1 was released, most people had probably forgotten most of the show or lost interest. The season 2 trailer was released April 10th, so about a month before the season 2 premiere. A decent enough trailer, but if you weren’t a religious follower of the show it probably didn’t sell it for you. The trailer that actually could have drawn more people in was released a day before May 5th. 

If you can’t promote the show properly don’t blame the cancellation on too few viewers. It’s not like you gave it any time at all. Not all of us are able to watch it the minute it comes out for various reasons, but judging the amount of viewers based on how many watched it within less than a month is so, so wrong in my opinion. It’s almost like they had already decided even before season 2 aired that this show would not continue. As for the expense of the show, I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t be too big of a dent in your $6 billion budget just for this year alone.

At this point, I would happy with just one small 2 hour movie to wrap up the story. Give the characters, the story and the team behind this amazing show the justice it deserves. It’s the least one could do. Realistically, it’s never going to happen, and I’m trying to come to terms with the fact that we just have to accept it. Still, there’s a really annoying, stubborn part of me that just can’t seem to let this go and is still clinging onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, all these petitions and complaints to Netflix is going to change the decision. 

I am not going to stand for this shit excuse of a cancellation. I know it’s most probably in vain, but like others have said, I’m not going down without a fight. I’m going to continue posting anything that has to do with supporting the show and a possible (albeit very unlikely) renewal, but I don’t think I’ll do much of anything else on this blog. I still need some time to process this, because if I’m being honest I’m still in denial. If by some fucking miracle sense8 gets renewed or gets a movie, I’ll be back no doubt. 

red-automaton-viii  asked:

I GOTTA REQUEST BEE let's say that s/o somehow accidentally scared MTMTE Ratchet, RB Heatwave, and TFP Knockout to where they respond by whipping around and punching them right in the face on instinct. (Lets make s/o cybertronian cus rip s/o human if this were to ever happen lmao) BTW this just a silly little scenario, nothing serious!


Ratchet (MTMTE), Heatwave (RB), Knockout (TFP)

  • Ratchet would be just as surprised as you were, but he’d still reel back and hold his face in pain. Cleanser pricks his optics from the sting of the punch and even though it’s begun to streak down his faceplates now, he’s laughing a little. He barely manages to apologize after it all. You apologize too, but the medic isn’t having it. He puts a hand on the back of his head and sighs, “I was going to ask you a question about where Rodimus was, but I guess you just liked my face so much that you couldn’t resist.” The comment made you smile, but the fact that Ratchet said it with such a straight face confused you a little.

  • Heatwave would exaggerate it just to get a reaction out of you because he’s a jerk. He’d cover his face and stay still for a second, and then look back at you with watery optics and a why would you ever do that to me look on his face. When you surge forward to apologize, he waves you off and begins to walk away, wiping the energon from his cut-open face. He turns back and starts laughing though, letting you know that his entire act was a joke. You feel the urge to punch him for real, after a stunt like that.

  • Knockout wouldn’t even register the pain at first, instead screaming and scrambling for the closest thing to a mirror and staring at his reflection. “DID YOU DENT MY FACEPLATE OR MY FINISH,” is pretty much all that comes from his mouth for the next several minutes. You try to get him to calm down and you eventually do (it takes a while) but he’s still hung up on the fact that you scratched him. After you get him to lay down so you can try and repair him, he groans and presses his hand to the spot you struck him. “Now it hurts,” he mumbles. 

mondays need to like…. not do that

Alpha pt. 8

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five // Part Six // Part Seven

Soft music floated throughout the room. Something about indie R&B creates a sense of want and induces good vibes. A moan drifted from your lips as you opened your neck more so Stiles could lick, kiss, and suck until you couldn’t take it anymore. It was no surprise that your moans became his favorite sound. It encouraged him to please you another way just so he can hear you whimper and feel you squirm around to get away. You flipped him around so you could get on top. Stiles laughed but quickly moaned once you grounded into him.

For the past weeks, everyone was distant from each other.

Y/N stood up on her tiptoes to kiss Stiles. It had been the first time they kissed in public. The rest of the world seemed to come to a slow, his body was light even when she pulled away from him.
“See you tonight, cowboy”
“O-Okay,” he stuttered.
He would be so happy until he spoke to his best friend, who had, undeniably, seen the whole exchange between the two.
The heat cycle had begun today.
“Hey, Scott, I heard about last night, are you okay–”
Scott slammed the locker, grabbing minimal attention from some passing students.
“Where the fuck were you?”
“I was on a date with–”
Stiles bravely whispered a yeah, afraid of what his friend might do. Scott nodded his head and clenched his fists before walking off. Stiles chased after him before he was grabbed by the shirt and pushed up against the wall. Scott flashed his yellow eyes, hair growing on his face.
“Thanks to you, my mom knows what I am now!” he growled
“You were supposed to be there”
Stiles shook his head, grabbing at Scott’s arms, “I didn’t know, Scott. I swear”
He threw him across the way and pulled out his claws.
“Stay away from me, Stiles”

“Allison, I need to see you. Please call me back”
Scott ran his hands through his hair in frustration. The girl he wanted was clearly with Stiles now, and the girl he had has gone haywire with some vendetta against Derek.
He tried to go see Peter and get some answers about his heat but they weren’t in the loft. There was only one other girl he could think of. His sexual needs had to be released now otherwise he’d go into some sort of bloodlust.

The doorbell rang and Scott ran downstairs to open the door.
Golden locks bounced past him as he closed the door.
“Bedroom’s upstairs”
Erica laughed and put her hands on her waist.
“I know I made you an offer but I never thought you’d actually accept”
“Don’t make me regret this, Erica”
“I think you already do”

You hopped off your newly repaired motorcycle with a huge smile on your face. Things between you and Stiles were going great. He always texted you good morning and goodnight with cute little emojis. Before you thought it was a little cheesy but you couldn’t deny that it made you smile so wide that your cheeks hurt. He also came over more for “study” sessions. It was all an excuse so the two of you could make out and explore each other further.

Once you got up to your bedroom, you tossed your bag on a chair and took off your shoes then went into the bathroom. A scuffle was heard from outside of the door. The hairs on your skin stood on high alert considering your step-dad was at the firm and his assistant Billy was on a short leave due to his newborn baby. You flushed the toilet and cautiously moved toward the door.

Peter flipped through a book while lounging on your bed. You sighed threw the nearest thing next to you at him.

“You know there’s this thing called a phone and a doorbell, right?”
“Things went bad at the police station. Scott is running from me and running right into Gerard’s arms. I need you to pull him back”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“Funny, I never had to tell you what to do before”
Peter closed the book and looked up at you with curiosity in his eyes. You challenged him by keeping his eye contact, a chuckle escaped your lips.
“I did as you asked. I brought Scott to his knees, he’s so screwed up that he can’t even think clearly. I put a dent in their relationship, just as you instructed. What more do you want from me?”
Peter got up from the bed and towered over you.
Fear was never a thing that he made you feel, the alpha, on the other hand, made you crumble in pitiful shame.
Peter held your chin, trying to create sentiment in his icy blue eyes.
“Give him what he wants”
His hands traveled down your sides in an intimate manner. This action made you shiver slightly against his touch.
“Please him, the way he wants to be pleased”
Peter planted kisses alongside your jaw. A whimper dared to rise from your chest but you held it in. You couldn’t let Peter know how much you were affected by him.
“Do this for me, puppy”
His voice was a raspy whisper, the heat emanating from his body clawed at your body, triggering every sexual hormone in you. A huge part of you wanted and desired to comply with your alpha’s needs but you couldn’t shake Stiles from your mind. If you did what he asked, Stiles would be hurt and he would never forgive you. That thought was enough to pull you out of the sex drugged trance that Peter pulled you under.
Though it was a moan, you tried to say it as firm as possible.
Peter gazed into your eyes, trying to find a weakness.
“Did you just tell me no?”
You pushed him back so you could breathe.
“I don’t want to do that”
“I thought we were past disobedience”
“I thought so too. Thank God, it’s back”
“No, Peter. I’m not doing what you asked me to do. Do us both a favor and do it yourself”
You moved towards the bedroom door but Peter snatched your arm in an aggressive manner.
“You will do whatever I tell you to”
You ripped out of his strong grip shocking both him and yourself.
“You can’t force me and don’t think that for one second you ever controlled me. I did what I wanted to do on my own accord. So do what you do best and piss off”
You opened the door and waved him out.
He wanted to snap you in half but he knew that if he did, he would lose everything the two of you worked for. So instead of losing his temper, Peter huffed out of the room to leave you alone.

“I wanna do it”
You stopped and looked at Stiles. His beaming brown eyes had depths that made you want to dive in and drown in sweet endless bliss.
“Are you serious?”
“I don’t think I want to wait anymore and my shipment of my favorite candles are coming in tomorrow”
You rolled your eyes and moved to get off of him but he grasped your hips to prevent you from doing so.
“Do you really want to do this…with me?”
“Stiles, we went over this–”
“Yeah I know, I just, wanted–”
Stiles shook his head yes, he searched for an answer in your eyes but you gave him one better.
You leaned down to take him into your lips.
The exchange was literally electrifying.
It reminded you of the first time you both met.
That electricity assured Stiles in ways he couldn’t comprehend.
“I want to have sex with you, Stilinski. I promise”
A bright, cheeky smile came across his lips as he flipped you over and dove straight for your neck.
You couldn’t help but giggle at the sudden attack.

Banners went up around the school. Kids wore paraphernalia on their jackets and shirts while repping their homeschool. It was the night of championship lacrosse game. Everyone was stoked about it. Coach gave a rather odd but firm speech about winning and kicking literal ass. Stiles was fixing his stick when Scott walked in. The two made eye contact and for a brief moment, Stiles was hopeful that he’d say something but Scott kept walking.
As an observation, Isaac looked at the both of them and shook his head. He wrapped a heavy arm around Scott and ruffled his hair just a bit.
“What happened between you two? You guys finally broke it off?”
“Fuck off, Isaac”
Scott pushed him back and grabbed his gear from his locker. Isaac put his hands up to ease the situation.
“Whoa, didn’t mean to make you upset. I just want to know why you guys aren’t speaking”
“You don’t need to know”
“The two of you are inseparable. He goes where you go and that’s what makes you strong. If I’m correct, most people would freak out and run away at the thought of their loved one being a werewolf”
Scott thought to himself. His mother’s reaction was nowhere close to how Stiles reacted. He was the one who drooled over every book in the library to understand how his curse worked. Whether he liked it or not, Stiles was in love with Y/N. But during this horrific heat cycle, being with her was the only thing that seemed right. Even if it meant hurting his best friend.

“Scott, came back to grovel and beg to the beta you were meant to be?”
Scott shook his head and closed the apartment door.
“Nice place, never thought you would get one”
“What do you want, traitor?”
“Traitor? I– ”
Scott took a deep breath to keep himself from lashing out and doing something stupid.
“Where’s Derek?”
Peter shrugged his shoulders walking over the kitchen to continue cooking.
“I don’t know how long I can keep this up”
“I hope to God you’re not having issues with a low sex drive. You’re a bit too young for that”
“You know what I’m talking about, Peter. I’ve tried to subside this hunger inside of me but it’s getting stronger. So strong that, I might have to do something I don’t want to do”
Peter gave a sly grin. If Y/N refused to obey, he would have to take her advice and do things himself. Luckily for him, this like this came to a natural curve. Stiles was screwing with the whole plan.
“So why come to me?”
“Because I need an honest answer and since Derek isn’t around… Look, this doesn’t change things between us. I am not joining your pack and you will not be my Alpha”
Peter tossed the vegetables in the pan and sprinkled a bit of salt to add flavor. He was waiting for an opening to slip something devious into Scott’s head.

“Scott, I know you’re mad at me but–”
“Water under the bridge”
Stiles had a hopeful tone in his voice. Scott was a bit hard to talk to when he held a strong grudge.
“Listen, Stiles, you’re my best friend. I love you and I completely understand. I was just mad that my mom found out but on the bright side, I don’t have to keep a secret from her anymore”
“I should’ve been there. I don’t know what I was thinking–”
“You were there. You’ve always been there for me so don’t beat yourself up about it”
“Are you okay?”
“Nope. So if I do something to hurt you, just know it wasn’t entirely my fault”
Scott patted Stiles on the back and got up from the bench. Stiles gave an awkward chuckle and looked around him.
“What does that mean? Why are you going to hurt me?”
Scott jogged backward with a large smile on his face and two thumbs up.

You placed your foot on the bench and began to unlace your cleats before taking them off. Soccer was a bit brutal today. Two girls have been on your back, constantly dogging you and it was getting annoying. Vanessa came out of the stalls and shoved a shirt on.

“Are you coming the game later?”
“Maybe, I’ll have to see if I can get off work early”
“Vanessa, you promised”
“I know. Maybe I don’t want to see you swoon over your true love, Stiles Stilinski”
“Shut up. What about your beloved Greenberg?”
“He’s an idiot. How are you going to deal with Jackson tonight?”
“I didn’t know I had to”
“He’s been asking about you. He won’t leave me alone, Y/N. I think he really loves you”
“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. I thought you said he was a jerk and he didn’t deserve my time”
“I know what I said, I just, hear what he has to say. I think he’s going through something and so far, you’re the only person I know who can pull him out”
“No! I’m done with Jackson. All he’s ever done was lie to me, why should I lend him an ear?”
Vanessa grabbed her sports bag and threw on a visor.
“I’m just telling you what’s happening. It’s up to you if you want to talk to him. Listen, I gotta go. I’ll call you tonight, okay?”
Vanessa kissed your cheek and left the locker room to leave you with something to think about.

All your thoughts dissipated when a pair of arms slid around your waist, pulling you back. Lips attached to your neck and you couldn’t help but smile as you rubbed your ass into his groin. Stiles groaned, retaliating by biting your earlobe softly but firm.

“You know this is the girls’ locker room, right?”
“Yeah and I know that we’re alone”
You turned around to meet his eyes. When you did, you swore that there was no one who looked at you the way that he did. Love was something that you could never admit to but being with him made you want to forget that. Sometimes you wished how your life would’ve been like if you hadn’t been bitten by Peter. Would he look at you the same way or would he even notice you? These were questions you would never ask him.
“Are you sure about tonight?”
“Am I sure? Of course, I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be? Uh, it’s going to be amazing. Just you and me and awkwardness…”
You laughed at Stiles’ rambling. He always did that when he was nervous or extremely anxious which was 78% of the time.
“Just kill them out there on the field”
“That’s if coach lets me off the bench”
“He’s going to have to”


Everything was finally going my way.
Any little deviance from that track would be too small to impact the outcome. In the end, I would get what I deserve; power.
For instance, I  was on my way to check on my puppy when a certain kanima showed up on her steps. He wanted to ring the doorbell but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. I never understood what she saw in him anyway. Jackson was a complete tool but I saw myself in him as well. The need to be on top, the desire to be the best, and the necessary want of absolute power.
Sometimes I wish I had bitten Jackson in the video store that day. He would’ve made a strong beta, but, he’s too much like me.
That kind of stubbornness and pride would only result in death.
Besides, Y/N was and still is a perfect minion.
Despite her feelings toward an expendable subject, she listens to me 80% of the time and gets the job done 100% of the time. Her methods were unorthodox and I love that about her.
That’s a strange word.
I would be lying if I said I haven’t grown accustomed to her.
That’s the alpha talking.
Not me.
He’s the one who finds her tantalizing.
He’s the one who can’t control himself around her.
That need to pounce and have his way with Y/N is all for the Alpha.
Jackson drove off giving me the chance to see what he left on her doorstep. It was my job to look out for my precious minion, and I can’t have Jackson muddling in the mixture.
It was an envelope encased to Y/N Y/L/N.
I picked it up and read its contents:

I’m sorry.
I know I haven’t been the best person in the world and you would rather eat glass than talk to me. I get it, I really do, but I can’t write you off like you don’t matter to me because the truth is you do. I love you more than I love myself, and trust me, that’s saying something. I don’t expect you to forgive me but at least give me the chance to make it up to you.
Sincerely, the idiot, Jackson

What a pathetic letter. I wasted no time tearing it up and tossing it off to the side. Jackson needs to get over himself, she’ll never go back to him. Now that that’s taken care of, it’s time to get rid of the current problem. She’s falling for Stiles. I can feel it. She smells like him all the time. It’s like he pisses on her clothes or something.
That, I will not stand for.
One way or another, he’s going to see what she really is.
They all will.