gee his face is hard to get right... it looks sort of like him i guess

The Counselors Are In

In which Steve and Tony from Avengers Assemble open a counseling service for all the Steves and Tonys across the multiverse. God knows they need it.
To celebrate #10yearsofstevetony ♥

“But Tony, doesn’t it seem like meddling?” Steve chewed at the corner of his lip. “Maybe the other versions of us won’t want to listen to what we have to say.”

“We are pretty stubborn, I’m sure that’s true in every universe,” Tony said with a grin. “But I’ve seen some of the places they come from. Things are not good there. They need our help, Steve.”

Steve heart swelled at the care Tony had for everyone, even if they were from a different universe. “You’re right, honey. Come on then. Let’s do this.”

“Okay,” Tony called out, taking his hand, matching wedding bands sat atop each other. “Send the first pair in.”

MCU (Earth-199999)

“Have you two ever spent any time together outside of a mission?” Tony asked, eyeing them strangely.

“Uhh. There was that one time we got shawarma,” Grumpy Steve said.

“That was right after a mission and you were half asleep. That doesn’t count,” Grumpy Tony said snappishly.

“So you’ve never actually… hung out? As friends? Like, at all?” Tony asked, seeming genuinely perplexed.

“Well. When you put it like that, not really, no,” Grumpy Steve admitted.

“I think we may have discovered the root of your issues,” Steve said with a sigh. “Why not try talking to each other, for god’s sake?”

“Because he hates me,” both Grumpy Steve and Grumpy Tony wailed in unison.

“He really doesn’t,” Steve and Tony both said firmly.

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Ain’t Got Nothin’ But Love

A Highschool AU SnowBaz fic for the Carry On Valentine’s Celebration

Admittedly, it might not be entirely truthful to say that Baz joined Vocal Jazz because he loved singing.  This is not to say that he didn’t love singing, it just wasn’t something that he tended to broadcast. And yes, Vocal Jazz was a good way of coming out of his shell, breaking past that barrier of shyness when it came to his own voice, plus maybe making some friends.

           However, let’s just say that Baz might not have auditioned if it weren’t for the blonde-haired blue-eyed tenor.

           And maybe he didn’t get up for those early morning practices before class purely because he loved singing, but because he loved something else.  Someone else.


Baz was more than a little disappointed when the group was split into two for the Valentine’s Day Musical Candy Gram event.  Granted, some might find it a little overwhelming to have ten people singing at them in front of the class, but couldn’t he at least have been put in Simon’s group?

           No, because the ensemble only had two basses and two tenors.  Both groups needed one of each, and Simon couldn’t miss third class.

           So Baz was left to swallow his disappointment as he followed his group down the halls of Watford High, singing excerpts of Beatles songs at poor unsuspecting students.  Objectively, it was a cute little setup.  They would barge into a classroom with the chorus of “She Loves You”.  Then Trixie, one of the sopranos, would call out the names of any “lucky” students, who would then have to make their embarrassing way to the front of the room to accept a flower or a card or both from Trixie and be serenaded with “8 Days A Week”.  All in all, not horrible.  Objectively. Baz was just glad he wasn’t on the subjective side of things.

           After fourth period, which he spent both quietly chuckling at the sound of his choir mates in nearby classrooms, and also praying they wouldn’t burst into his classroom or, heaven forbid, bestow a Musical Candy Gram upon him, Baz returned to the empty music room for his coat, which he had left there when the group had met at lunch.  As he buttoned up the coat, he couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit melancholy.  He hated to admit it to himself, but while singing was great, it was nothing compared to singing with Simon.  Because when he was singing with Simon it made “I’ll Be Seeing You”, their competition piece, feel different.  He wasn’t just singing words; it was more of an outlet.  Like pouring his bottled-up feelings down a drain.  They weren’t going to Simon, but at least they were going somewhere.

           “She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah…”

           Baz’s heart sank when all nine of his choir mates filed into the room, singing and snapping their fingers, this time directing their song at him, but he had to smile a little.

           “Really?” he smirked as Trixie came forward to hand him a single rose with a card attached by a ribbon.  “Is this all necessary?”  In response, they burst into “8 Days A Week”, beaming at him like he’d won some sort of prize.  It was mortifying, but it was almost nice.

Baz snuck a glance at Simon, who was singing through a grin, and even though he knew he was probably blushing, Baz held his gaze for a few more seconds, saving the sight to replay later.

“Alright, who’s it from then?” he demanded when the others had finally finished singing.  “There’s no name on the card.”

“Oooh, a secret admirer!” squealed Trixie, but nobody had an answer for him.  Baz didn’t miss the smirk that twisted Simon’s mouth though, or how smug the boy looked when he left the room.


“You know, don’t you?”

Simon didn’t answer right away, but Baz saw his mouth twitch.  “Know what?”

“Who sent me the card and the flower yesterday.” Baz tried to sound indifferent as he trawled through the philosophy section of the library.  “I could see it on your face.”

Simon pulled a book on Aristotle off the shelf, not looking at Baz.  “It’s possible,” he drawled.  “After all, you are my best friend, I ought to know who has a crush on you.”

“What you ought to do is tell me, best friend.”

“I can’t.”

“You won’t.”

“I can’t,” Simon turned to him giggling.  “If I tell you who sent the Valentine, it would be breaking confidence.” He solemnly put one hand over his heart and one in the air by his head.  “I am under oath.”

“Under oath to whom?”

“The person who sent it, of course.”

Baz shot a look at him.  “So you’ve talked to them about it?”

“You could say that.”

“You’re being annoyingly cryptic.”

“Do you have any suspicions?”

Of course Baz had thought about it all day yesterday after school, but his mind had kept wandering back to what Baz wanted.  Because there was only one person he wanted to be behind the Valentine.

And if Baz was being honest with himself, it Simon hadn’t sent it, Baz didn’t want it.

He just shrugged.  “No one I can think of really makes sense.”

“Most love doesn’t make sense,” Simon murmured in reply, so softly that Baz thought maybe it wasn’t for him to hear.  Granted they were in a library, but still.

“Would you tell me if I guessed correctly?”

“No guarantees, but you have permission to interrogate me.  Ask away.”

“Boy or girl?”

“Hopefully a boy.”

Baz raised an eyebrow.  “What do you mean ‘hopefully’?”

“Well, in theory,” Simon stammered, “whoever sent it cares about you enough to know that you’re gay, and if it were a girl, hopefully she would respect you enough to know better than to send you a Valentine.”

Baz had to admit he had a point.  “So basically what you’re saying is that it was a boy?”

Simon smiled.  “If that’s what you think.”

A thought occurred to him.  “It wasn’t Agatha, was it?  Just to get that off the table?”

“No it was not,” Simon admitted, “that would be a bit weird.”

“Especially since she’s still carrying a torch for you,” Baz snorted, maybe a little louder than was appropriate in a library.  Simon gave a wry smile that Baz couldn’t quite interpret.

“It wasn’t her,” Simon assured him, “guess again.”

Baz was honestly stumped.  There just wasn’t anyone else who seemed even the least bit interested in him.  He had thought that maybe Dev had had feelings for him a few years earlier, but now Dev was happily involved with his girlfriend, which eliminated that possibility.

“Really?” Simon smirked.  “No one?”

“There just isn’t anyone who shows any signs of liking me like that,” Baz shrugged.

“You might be surprised at the number of people who would gladly date you.  I mean, you’re certainly not hard to look at.”

Baz shot a surprised glance at Simon, who was apparently very interested in a chapter about nihilism.  Did he just…

“Is there anyone you want it to be from?” Simon asked quickly, like he didn’t want Baz to question him further.



Simon looked up at him with a smile that seemed just a little bit painted, and looked back down quickly.  “You should ask them,” he said in an overly cheery voice, “you could get lucky.”

“There’s no point,” Baz shook his head.

“Why not?”

“There’s no way it was them,” he chuckled sadly, “absolutely no way.”

Simon shrugged without looking at him.  “Maybe that’s for the best.  If you never know who it was, you can just imagine that it was who you wanted it to be, and the person can just imagine that you like them back.”

Baz didn’t have an answer for that.  It sounded like an easy solution, to just let the whole thing fade away and imagine that Simon had picked out the rose with care, that he had skirted around Baz when the group prepared all the Candy Grams so that Baz wouldn’t find his own name among the Valentines. That he had done something silly like kiss the card before tying it to the bloom.

But it was too good to be true, and Baz knew it. He would never stop wondering if he didn’t find out for sure.

So he steeled himself and forced the words out of his mouth: “Was it you?”

Simon looked up at him with practiced innocence, but his eyes betrayed a touch of fear.  “Why would you think that?”

“I just had to ask,” Baz floundered, hoping he hadn’t gone as scarlet as he felt.  “So that’s a ‘no’ then?”

“… No.”

“No, what?”

“No, it’s not a ‘no’.”

Baz’s brain was going at a thousand miles per second, and yet he couldn’t for the life of him comprehend what Simon was saying. “Oh,” was his scholarly response. “So that means…”

Simon stared straight ahead into the bookcase. “I sent it.  You got me.”


Simon finally turned to look at him.  “Why?  Gee, I don’t know, Baz!”  He was whispering, but with so much force that it felt to Baz like he was shouting. “Maybe because in all the years we’ve been friends you have astounded me and I only just made sense of it all! Maybe because you’re brilliant and gentle and so goddamn beautiful and when you sing I never want you to stop, and even if you never found out who sent you the stupid flower or if you didn’t care, at least I would have tried to tell you how much I like you, at least I would have -”

The next sound he made was one of shock as Baz’s mouth covered his own.

The sound after that was one of oh god, finally because Baz had him backed against the philanthropy section and was tangling his fingers in Simon’s curls, burying his lips in heat and need and oh, this is what all the hype is about and it was a million times better than Simon could have hoped for.

“Under oath to whom, again?” Baz teased against Simon’s lips, and Simon laughed lightly as he snaked his arms around Baz’s neck, already desperate for more.

“You got me,” he whispered, reaching up for Baz’s mouth again, and Baz couldn’t help but grin as Simon pulled him down to meet him.  Baz angled his head and deepened the kiss, a low sigh escaping his throat.  In the back of his head he remembered the rose and the card, and took to moment to appreciate the fact that he wouldn’t be throwing them away after all before setting up a long, slow rhythm against Simon’s mouth like they had all the time in the world.

Don’t Care About the Presents (M)

Originally posted by holy-yoongi

Summary: It’s that time of year again, and for your friend group’s annual secret Santa this time, Namjoon has you. Which means that this year, his gift has to be perfect. However, sometimes it’s not the material gifts that are the best ones.

Member: Namjoon

Word Count: 6.2k+

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Warning: Smut, Painfully cheesy fluff to the point that characters call themselves out on it

A/N: Part of the Christmas collab with @cremesuga, @jungkxook, @haniwritesbtsstuff, @jiminniemouse, @inktae, and @jungblue! I also have an unhealthy obsession with those damn Ryan pajamas help me. Also I hope no one’s lactose intolerant because this is filled with cheeseeeee.

Namjoon is glad that there are websites that do secret Santa drawings for you now, because if he had drawn your name while in the same room with you, there’d be no hiding how he felt about this current situation. Which was a complete mess. Hands shaking, heart racing, red in the face kind of mess.

However, now he has to deal with his roommate judging him as he flails in front of his computer screen, which now displays you name. And Min Yoongi knows how to judge.

“Calm down. You look like one of those things they put outside car dealerships.” Yoongi flicks the back of Namjoon’s head as he passes behind him, on his way to flop down on the couch.

“You don’t understand, man.” Namjoon lets out a groan before burying his face in his hands. “Like, I know I can’t tell you because it’s supposed to be secret Santa—"

“You got Y/N, I knew it the second I heard you squealing from my room.” Yoongi’s tone is flat, almost bored, as he picks up the remote and starts flipping through the channels.

“Squealing, what? I wasn’t squealing.” Namjoon’s arms cross over his chest as he lets out a huff of air.

“I mean, that was the highest I’ve ever heard your voice go.” Yoongi sighs as he shuts the TV off, unable to find anything to watch. “So, when’s the wedding? I know a ring is probably outside of the price range for a typical secret Santa but…”

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The Only Exception (Part 2)

Summary: AU. Reader is given the task of running a popular love advice internet show when her coworker is fired. Her cynical attitude toward love makes her offer some harsh advice, and more than a few hearts are caught in the aftermath. Will hers be one of them?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 3,460

Warnings: language, fluff, hot firemen, drinking, (one) sexual innuendo, sarcasm, advice-giving for sad situations

A/N: I got so mad that I accidentally deleted my effing chapter. All your lovely notes and comments are gone; I’m sorry. This is a repost. I’m not retagging.

Part - 1 - 2 - 3 -

Originally posted by closer-to-the-edge-of-glory

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The Shooting Star

A/N: Oh boy, here we go. This is my first entry one-shot for @doodledrawsthings human bill AU (which they helped edit and illustrate). For those not familiar, it’s an AU based on the Flat Dreams lore by @pengychan, basically a “what-if” scenario of Bill coming back during the Pines Twins second summer in Gravity Falls. If you’re unfamiliar with it, CHECK OUT THEIR PAGE. WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH YOUR LIFE. Hope you enjoy this one.

part 2

part 3

“And this is the time DipDop and I were voted Best Dynamic Duo! Man, I can’t imagine not having my bro to count on!”

“Can we do something else.”


The occupant of the kitchen chair groaned loudly, burying his face in his arms. “Tell me, Shooting Star, is TORTURING ME with POINTLESS HUMAN SENTIMENTS glued onto pieces of colorful paper some kinda elaborate revenge scheme you’re executing?”

“First, they’re not pointless. I’ll have you know I worked very hard on each of them! And second-” Mabel jumped up from her chair and smacked Bill lightly across the face. The demon recoiled with an half-annoyed half-startled snarl. “You’re being a jerk! So you get a frowny-face sticker.”

Bill slowly pried said sticker off his cheek, slowly ripped it in half with a disturbing satisfaction, and tossed the remaining pieces on the floor, his eyes never leaving Mabel’s. The demon silently got up, fixing the girl with a sneer before turning to leave. Well, that could have gone better.

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Leon Draisaitl #5

Anonymous said: Your earlier stories got me thinking. Can I request an imagine about Leon being a hoe bag before you and he has to comfort you after a girl brags about hooking up with him before and he commits to you in a big way. Love your writing!!

A/N: sorry this took a little longer than planned! i kinda switched it up a little but i hope yall like it tho :))

Word Count: 1,393

Originally posted by avasilevskiy

You hadn’t seen him in more than a week. You knew how crazy his schedule got during the season, yet here you were making things work like you had been for the past year and a half. After kissing him for a little too long, you dragged yourselves out of the apartment you shared and went out for lunch. Things were all going well, great really, till she walked up. 

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Only on Thursdays: Chapter 2

Originally posted by dangerousvikings

Originally posted by steals-dreams

Story Summary: You’re dead.

Okay, well technically you are cursed. But still dead. Zombie. Living corpse. Whatever name modern society wants to give you. In a world rife with supernatural creatures and blatant unbelievers, you live and hunt alone. Only your giant wolf hound gives you company. It’s not much of an afterlife, but it’s yours.

But one atypical Thursday, your dinner gets stolen by the most annoying, elitist, insufferable asshole vampire. His name is Ivar.

And your quiet, lonely afterlife will never be the same again.

Pairing: Vampire Ivar x Zombie Reader

Chapter Two TW: mild language, body horror (body parts being sewn back on), mentions of blood drinking

Read below the cut or on A03 here

Chapter One here

Tags: @kirah34 @tiyetiye @unicorn-glitter-princess @readsalot73 @pagan-raider @cutiepiepotatoes

A/N: Chapter Two! Thanks to @pokeasleepingsmaug for her beta. Let me know if you want a tag!

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My contribution to the Descendants fandom

I’m Huma Trash, and i haven’t seen any fan fiction of the deleted kiss, so i figured that I might as well do it.


The very thought of Auradon had always made her furious. Every time the chip shop’s TV mentioned the royal family or any of their subjects, Uma fought the urge to break the TV. Rage boiled in her whenever the Beast King or his bookish queen made proclamations about how good, how perfect, how happy everyone was on that island. He always credited the isle of the lost for his peaceful country, saying that trapping every villain to have ever lived and thousand of minions was a good idea. He never talked about the children. Uma was basically a slave to her mother, she worked and managed the shop with no pay, and no recognition, while her mother sat on her tentacles all day threatening to strangle her or her sisters if she didn’t buy potion ingredients. Harry and his sister constantly compete for their father’s attention and affection. They definitely got some sort of attention. Uma flinched at the memory of Harry, coming to her as she’s closing up the chip shop, with a split lip and a black eye. And Gil…Uma knew very little of Gil’s home life, but she was sure his father was too busy admiring himself to teach Gil or his brothers about life on the isle. God knows the poor child lacked any street smarts. God knows He would have gotten himself Killed If Uma didn’t protect him.

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hiding-from-senpai  asked:

(1/2) Aomine reacting to his female crush giving him something of a lap dance coz of some dare at a party (the only people there were the GOM & some of their friends; they know that Ao + reader have a crush on each other but haven't done anything to change their relationship for some reason). She decides to dance to Ginuwine's PONY. She saw Jenna Dewan-Tatum perform this on Lip Sync Battle & decides to do some of the moves (on Aomine as well) coz it was more about attitude than real teasing

dear lord, hello nikka! i would like to apologize for how late this is! not to make many excuses, and i know they’re unexcusable, but it’s been so hectic rn b/c i got sick, my sister got sick, my mother is sick, homework, projects, piano, dance; it’s a nightmare. on top of that, i was stuck in writer’s block because i’ve never written lap dance/seducing sort of scenes before and i honestly had no idea how to write it. i watched many videos and hopefully it’s portrayed right. xxx

The music was blaring, streamers of different colors hanging carelessly around lamps and ceiling fans, and the entire house was just filled with the miracles and their teammates. You were with the managers, laughing at the idiocy of the boys and exchanging ideas and scheduling future street practices as well as practice matches between the miracles. You were finally enjoying the break after the Winter Cup, and this was your one and only moment to meet up with everyone before they all started practicing for the Kanto Taikai.

“So how are things with Aomine-kun?” Momoi hinted, winking at your blushing state. Your fingers played with the rim of your plastic cup, teeth gnawing at your red lips. Your relationship with the Touo ace was definitely an awkward, dysfunctional one. Being the manager at Seirin, you were able to see the Touo team occasionally. Never been the one to form a romantic relationship, you were oblivious to his somewhat forward interest until the girls had informed you one day.

“I haven’t talked to him since our last practice match, Satsuki-chan.” Momoi placed her cup down on the counter, her hands on her hips.

“And why not? Dai-chan is totally into you. He looks at you like he looks at basketball shoes!” You grimace, moving away from the kitchen, and out to the living room, the girls following behind.

“Gee, thanks, but I’m not so sure about how to approach him. He’s very, rough per se, and it’s hard to get him away from the team now. He’s been to all the practice matches, y'know?” Momoi pushed you out to the big group of boys all huddled in the middle of the room.

“Which is exactly why you should go take this chance now and initiate something! I heard you were taking dancing classes!” You blushed once again, sputtering nonsense while being propelled forward. The boys took notice of you, intrigued by the newfound fact.

“You take dancing, ____-san? What genre of dance do you take?” You were surprised to see the Rakuzan captain make small talk with you, since he’s always been reticent among the rest of the members. You knew he came from a wealthy family, and you weren’t willing to expose yourself to him just yet. Sitting down on the couch, you looked away from his intense red hues before answering.

“Um, well, I use to take ballet.” It wasn’t a total lie, since she took ballet when she was five, but quit six months after because all she learned to do was to point her toes. Akashi seemed appreciative of this, and you guessed it classical anything was second nature to him.

“Well, what do you take now?” Kuroko, the ever so observant one spoke out, and the attention had zeroed in on you once again. You were saved by Kise who had come back from the kitchen with an empty bottle.

“Let’s play spin the bottle: truth or dare style!” Immediately, protests were heard from Midorima and Murasakibara, the latter lazy and the former finding it atrocious. In the end, through all the chaos and disagreements, the group had decided to start the game. Kise spun the bottle first, spinning once, twice, thrice around the room before landing on Momoi. The pink haired girl squealed, earning a groan from Aomine.

“I choose ____-chan! And I dare her to give Aomine-kun a lap dance!” You spit out the drink you were drinking by the request, frantically trying to take her dare back. Aomine sat up, eyes glazed with a heat of snark and dominance, staring intently into your eyes. It wasn’t like you weren’t intoxicated enough to not complete the task, but to perform in front of the members? It was basically a free show for all of them.

“You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to, of course,” Momoi interjects, and you feel a sigh of relief fall from your lips at the mere thought of a substitute dare. Momoi continues on, ruining what little hope you had for your sake and hers at the end of the night. “Unless you want to give a lap dance to each and every one of the boys here, by all means, you can back down.”

“Momoi-san, that seems a little bit extreme-” You stood up indignantly, placing your plastic cup down not before downing the beverage completely. You were a bit tipsy, and figured you had the right amount of alcohol to not make a fool out of yourself. Momoi grinned, cranking the speakers to the maximum volume to the song ‘Pony’. The others watch, some with their jaws slacked, and others trying hard not to stare at the sashay of your movements. Conveniently, Aomine was sitting on the love seat, a perfect place for you to be able to drape your legs on him, and only him. As the song hit the chorus, your body which had been swaying rhythmically to the beat made an abrupt turn to face him, both legs draped over his thighs, your back facing him. Trying your best not to look at the other miracles, your grab onto Aomine’s knee caps, hips moving side to side, gently caressing his hardened member.

Momoi had created the perfect opportunity for the both of you to release some sexual tension, and after you were done chewing her out, you would be eternally grateful for it. Your hands get aggressive, grabbing onto his member, and tugging it with his pants. Arching your back and placing your hands on your own knees, you rolled your hips around, just a millimeter above his pants, teasing him and provoking him to initiate further. Finally, Aomine decides to roughly grab you by the waist, and sink his head into the hollow of your neck, moaning quietly so the others wouldn’t hear. His wet mouth travels around your neck, biting lightly and leaving red marks on your skin. The team started hooting, whistling and doing everything to embarrass the crap out of both of you, but to no avail. You continued on your ministrations, until the song ended and left you panting from all the intensity.

“So this was the kind of dancing you were learning,” Akashi breaks the silence. You giggle, too light headed to talk or move, and decide to slump down to Aomine’s chest. He wraps his arms around your waist, smirking at your state.

“Well, this was defnitely surprising, ____. Although I can’t say that I didn’t enjoy the view.” You huff, letting out a small smile.

“This is definitely a one time thing.” The ace just smirks, his eyes devouring your spirit and strength. His nimble fingers play with the crevice of your waist, mouth descending to your ear. He nips at the sensitive fold, whispering words that rendered you speechless. While the crowd continued with the game, the two of you quietly slipped out of the room, and into a vacant one. As you entered the room, he picked you up swiftly, your legs locking around his waist immediately earning yourself a light pat on your bottoms. He grunted when you drove your hips into his heated hard on, and grinned at your forwardness.

“Let’s finish what we started, babe.”

That night, you made a mental note to bless the pink haired manager.

Help! Not Just Anybody - Eleven

“Happy birthday Ella!“ JJ gushed at her god-daughter, bending down to hug her. She and Spencer had organised a party for Ella at their local ice rink. All of Reid’s colleagues were there as well as Georgia and her family, and Amanda, as well as a number of Ella’s school friends.

“Thanks Aunty Jen. Are you going to come and skate with us later?”

“Of course! We’ll have a special skate together.”

The girl grinned at JJ and made her way back over to the ice where her friends were, Henry slipping his feet into his skates and following her. JJ chuckled seeing Ella’s school friends swooning over her thirteen year old son. She wondered whether having a guy friend that was older would make Ella much more popular at school? That was how these things used to work….

JJ made her way over to Reid, depositing her bag of gifts down on the table that was already overloaded with presents.

“How’s she been?”

“She had a moment this morning when Amanda first came over, but she’s distracted now so she’s okay,” Reid replying watching his two girls out on the ice together.

“That’s good. I guess birthdays are always going to be hard for her.”

“Yup. And she yelled at me last night too. I had to send her to her room.”

“Ella yelled at you?” Jen was shocked, her god-daughter wouldn’t normally act like that.

“She wanted to invite Y/N. I told her no. She blames me for her leaving and she told me I was stupid for sending her away.”

JJ didn’t comment, pursing her lips together to stop her personal opinion coming out. Reid knew her too well though.

“Look I know you think I was too but… ”

“Spence, don’t. Not today. Enjoy Ella’s day, don’t get worked up about it. What’s done is done.”

What’s done was done, but Spencer could t help but think that his daughter and friend were right. Even Georgia had berated him for firing Y/N.

He knew he’d overreacted, and he knew that ultimately he was in the wrong and that Ella had never been in any danger. Y/N wouldn’t have left her if she didn’t think she’d be looked after. But by the time he’d realised that it had been too late. Y/N had packed and left the house, holding back her tears as she’d hugged Ella goodbye and handed Spencer his house keys back without a single word to him. His oldest daughter hadn’t spoken to him again that weekend, blanking him completely.

Six weeks had passed since she’d left and Spencer hadn’t heard from her at all. And those six weeks had been horrific. Having Y/N around had made such a huge difference to their lives, and the actual job she was paid to do was only a small part of that. Spencer missed her terribly and he knew Ella did too. But he was stubborn and couldn’t bring himself to contact her. He sucked at apologies and although he knew he’d been wrong, he couldn’t bring himself to put it into words.

When Ella had come to him last night and asked if she could invite Y/N to her party the next day, he’d so badly wanted to say yes but couldn’t. He couldn’t bear to face her, not with all his friends there to watch and judge him. Ella had thrown a complete tantrum, bought on by the fact that she missed Y/N and that she was tired from being pulled from pillar to post again. Without Y/N there to watch her, Spencer had been having to yet again rely on Georgia, Amanda and even Will to watch her in the evenings, and had had to tell Hotch once again that he couldn’t go out into the field until he got a replacement sorted. But he couldn’t bring himself to start interviewing again.

Everything was such a mess.

The party went on, the sounds of children’s squeals filling the ice rink. JJ and Garcia started rounding the kids up so they could have their food, a pile of skates dumped off to one side as the kids pottered around in their socks. Ella came wandering over to him.

“Where’s Gee? She has my camera and I want to take some pictures.”

Spencer had bought Ella a digital camera for her birthday, his daughter taking a sudden interest in photography a few weeks ago. He wanted to encourage her so had found one that was child friendly, purchasing some computer software to go with it. He looked around for his ex wife, spotting her near the entrance to the ice rink.

She was talking animatedly to another woman who had a huge box and gift bag at her feet. A woman who Spencer hadn’t seen in six weeks.

Ella spotted her at the same time he did, running across the room and dodging the other people.


Y/N wasn’t sure whether she should come or not. When Ella had messaged her last night she’d known that there was no way Spencer had known that Ella had invited her, Spencer had made it quite clear that he wanted her to have nothing to do with his daughter, or him again.

But she’d bought the gifts for Ella before she’d left and she didn’t want them to go to waste. And why should Ella miss out just because her father was an idiot.

An idiot that despite herself, Y/N was still very much in love with. The argument they’d had, had been ridiculous and it had broken Y/N’s heart when he’d told her to leave. She hadn’t argued anymore though, there was no point. The resolve was set and his mind couldn’t be changed at that point. He was angry that his daughter had been left somewhere and Y/N could accept that. But he wasn’t willing to accept that Ella had been left with people that Y/N trusted, and that she wouldn’t have needed to have been left if Spencer had been there in the first place.

So she packed up and went home to her father’s house, thinking that maybe in a few days Spencer would call her and apologise. But he never did.

Y/N had been at a loss. When a full week had gone by and he hadn’t apologised, she’d sobbed. Crying for the little girl she’d bonded with so deeply that she’d probably never see again. Crying for the job opportunity that had been snatched away from her. Crying for the love that had been lost between her and Spencer. Because she had loved him and had been so sure he’d felt the same way. The way he looked at her sometimes, she never ever been looked at like that by another person before, with such adoration and affection. He’d made her feel things inside that she hadn’t felt for another person, and she hated that despite everything she still felt those things for him. There was just the added emotion of hatred towards him that he’d been so fucking stubborn and had refused to even see things her way. She knew though that because of that, they wouldn’t have worked out. If he’d apologise and admit he was wrong then it could have been different. But he hadn’t. So she had to get on with her life. Which is what she’d been doing and planning for the past few weeks.

Y/N hadn’t wanted to come here today, she would have preferred to have dropped the gifts off at their house and left, she things to do, last minute packing to sort out. She was leaving for England tomorrow. But she wanted to make sure that Ella received her presents. She’d thought that she could drop them off at the front desk of the ice rink and then slip out, but Georgia had spotted her.

And now both Ella and Spencer had too, Ella barrelling towards her as Spencer looked over, an unreadable expression on his face as he started after his daughter.

Shit. Maybe she shouldn’t have come after all.

Over the Distant Stars

                               Kimi no Na wa AU Todomomo version 

Read Part 1 Here !!

                                                  ***Chapter 2 *** 

Yaoyorozu’s family was a huge influence in the small town of Itomori. Her dad was a successful politician and her mother was one of the priestesses of a Shinto Shrine up the Northern Mountains. To live up to their prestigious status, Yaoyorozu worked hard in school (she managed to make it on the Dean’s list every year) and on weekends, she would follow her mother to train as a priestess in the shrine. Her father spent very little time at home however, and thus, their relationship was strained.

The first thing that Yaoyorozu did when she returned home was run to her matryoshka dolls. The white piece of paper must be a hint of what’s been happening lately. Jirou and Ochako voiced their concern at lunch the other day, while munching on some plum onigiri and sipping hot barley tea, that every second day Yaoyorozu would come to school with messy hair. The poor girl wouldn’t remember a thing, and Ochako would add how she even forgot her own name once when Ms.Midnight called on her to answer a math question. Yaoyorozu cringed. Something was definitely off, especially with those eerie dreams she’s been having.

She gulped and turned over her doll, dust motes dancing in the air like snow in a winter day. She pulled out the note with careful fingers and pressed it flat on her desk.

“Who are you? Where are you from?”

Her fingers smudged the markings on the paper and she casually wiped it on her jeans. Whoever wrote the note was clearly in a hurry, words scribbled in a mess of navy blue ink. She slumped onto her chair and covered her forehead in a sign of defeat. Was this a prank from someone? But how could anyone have sneaked into her room?

She walked over to her soft bed and lied down. Her teddy bear stumbled and fell next to her as if he had a life of his own. She grabbed the bear and hugged it tightly, feeling it’s fur brush against her chin. Her eyes were dry and she was so exhausted from everything. Those people in her class that always picked on her. Her father that was never home. And now this?

Yaoyorozu wished she had the authority to choose who to be in her next life; ideally, a handsome boy living in a big city. She grinned at the random thought, almost like a mental apparition of some sort, and gradually drifted into deep slumber. Perhaps, her mother could tell her about how reincarnation works.


“Rise and shine,” a sing-song voice echoed, “Shouto, breakfast is ready, get up!”

Yaoyorozu mumbled a “huh” and with her eyes still closed, she reached up into a stretch and sat there, mouth tasting bitter and puckering.

Her eyes wandered helplessly around the room she was in, and she jolted. Blue walls and robot figurines greeted her and her hands subconsciously travelled up her torso. Okay, wait a minute. Her body felt oddly light. She looked down, stiff hands feeling her chest. Breasts don’t just disappear, for pete’s sake! She examined the Nike shorts she was wearing, and she felt heat rise up her cheeks. Where the hell was she?! What was—Who–?

“Shouto, what’s with you? You’re gonna be late, school’s starting in 30 minutes!” the same feminine voice came again and disrupted her thoughts.

Okay, calm down. Calm the hell down, Momo. This must be the dream again! Of course it must be!

“I’ll…uh..” her eyes widened at how deep her voice was and clutched her throat with her right hand, “I’ll be right down!” She shouted and she scurried off into the nearest bathroom down the hall.

Staring into the mirror, her fingers traced every nook and crannie of her ‘face’ and she swallowed a scream. Her heart was hammering, blood was racing, and she still had no idea how she was donning a face of some guy! A guy with an angry scar and mismatched eyes, no less. She stretched her neck upwards, examining her adam’s apple. Her adam’s apple looked so real. Her hair was a fiery mix of red and platinum white with pieces stylishly falling right between her brows.  

“This is bizarre”, Momo said to herself as she ran her hand through her short hair, “how amazing is this?”


Eating breakfast with her ‘sister’, Fuyumi, was beyond odd. She tried so hard not to give away her feminine identity, but in the back of her mind she would constantly remind herself that she was in some labyrinth of a dream. Anything she did here would have no consequence whatsoever. So no worries right?

               “I gotta go now, Shouto, can you please remember to get home on time? You’ve been late a lot this week”, the sister says, “You know how dad gets. And also don’t forget to bring a spoon for your lunch, I don’t think I packed it with your bento.”

               “If I forget, I can always create one so don’t worry. Please take care”, Momo sat up straight and nodded, and Fuyumi cocked an eyebrow.

               “Okay….you’ll create one?”,  Fuyumi shrugged, “Guess you’re talking about your friends’ quirks. I’ll see you later then.” And with that she left.

               Momo turned and watched as Fuyumi exited the house with a purse in her hands. She let out a sigh and took a quick tour around the dining room. Family pictures hung precariously on the walls and she noticed ‘her own’ face in the photos. In the photo closest to the table, Fuyumi, and two other boys around her age, sat at the very front while who she presumed to be the father and mother sat at the back with ‘herself’ wedged in the middle. Everyone was smiling, but the mother looked a bit distressed. Momo can see it in her hesitant grin.

               A loving family, maybe?

               As she continued to inspect the wooden framed photos, a cellphone started vibrated on the table. She snatched it quickly and clicked on the screen.

               You’re going to be late for school again!! –Midoriya

               As a straight A student with 0 penalties whatsoever, that message gave her a heart attack. She leapt up the stairs into ‘her’ bedroom and quickly grabbed the uniform that was resting on the headrest of a chair.


Her face turned bright red. She really had to go pee first before searching where her school was on google map.


“Oh man,” Midoriya leaned close to Momo, “Todoroki, you actually made it to our first block, unlike last time.”

Momo scratched her head and gave a shameful scoff.

“Yeah I got lost. I forgot how big the city was.”


“Everything was so breathtaking…the JR line on the horizon, the beautiful skyscrapers, and…”

Midoriya tilted his head in confusion, “I guess?”

A bird swooped down next Momo as she ate her curry rice and she giggled, watching the bird pick off crumbs that Midoriya left when he was eating a sandwich. Midoriya was now beside her, practicing punches and kicks while jumping in mid-air. With every punch, a gush of air rushed past her and she gasped.

“Amazing, Midoriya-kun”, Momo commented, “is that your quirk? Super strength?”

Midoriya paused, sweat beading on his face, “ Midoriya-KUN? ”

Momo bit her lower lip, “uhh….Midoriya-san?”

The green-haired boy sat down, “Todoroki, this isn’t the first day you’ve met me…”

Momo wasn’t listening however. She was frantically digging into her backpack, “Ugh, I forgot to bring napkins. Guess I’ll just have to make some.” Midoriya watched as she lifted her sleeves up, revealing her muscular biceps, watching it as if something was supposed to happen.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to create a napkin,” her nose scrunched in annoyance, “but nothings coming out.”

Midoriya could only cover his face in laughter, “Is it one of those magic tricks that people on T.V. do? Trying to make things out of thin air?”

Momo glared at him, “Uh no. That’s my quirk. Gees, if I were lucid dreaming, I could have dreamt this Midoriya guy away for Jirou or something….” She mumbled her last words. Her eyes widened when something, blue-ish white popped out of her hands, but within a millisecond her grin faded away as icicles and giant ice ridges emerged from the ground on her right.

She fumbled and tripped backwards in surprise, prompting Midoriya to also take a step back.

“Todoroki, calm down man, the principal hates it when students use their quirks with no supervision, remember?”

Momo could only look at Midoriya and back at her frozen, right hand. This dream is way too real. She could’ve obliterated half of the school with this power if she weren’t careful, she could’ve hurt Midoriya, she could’ve…she didn’t want to think about it. She clenched her right fist and turned to her friend, who was watching her with patient eyes.

“I’m sorry”, she mumbled, still a little shaken with the sudden surge of her unexpected quirk.

“Anyway, Iida and I were thinking of heading to UA café after school for a quick bite, you in? Unless you gotta visit your mom…”

His voice trailed off, seemingly uncomfortable with the latter topic. He was expecting a mournful response but instead, he was greeted with a loud gasp.

“CAFÉ? Oh, how I’ve missed those lovely hangout places….and the little meringue cookies with fresh fruit and crème”, Momo jumped with joy, hands clasped together as if praying to Midoriya to take her there.

“Alright… so you’re down for that then,” Midoriya half laughed and half shuddered. He rested a hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down.

“But Todoroki, you do know that you work at that café right?”


                                        // Chapter 3 is coming up :)//

Revenge, Interrupted (Part 15)

1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12  13  14

Dedicated to @alldafeelsformyotps-steroline for the best tags anyone could ever ask for :)

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Blowing Off Steam

Author: AvengeSuperWhoLock

Word Count: 2629

Pairing: BalthazarxReader

Summary: You and Balthazar had never gotten along. The minute the two of you were in the same room together WW3 broke out. Only this time it’s different. This time the tension breaks and suddenly your sexual frustration isn’t so frustrating anymore.


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“Damn professional” - h.s. Part 5

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4



There was no need for sleeves anymore. Harry heard her knock on his door a couple times, and eau time he couldn’t help but ignore her. He saw her through the view hole in his door as he sat there, brooding to himself. She didn’t say anything either. She didn’t beg or plead to come in because she knew just as much as he did that this was completely messed up. 

It was late by the time Harry finally meandered over to his kitchen, slowly and lazily looking through his fridge for something to drink. A gust of wind caught him off guard and when he looked up there she was. She had come in through his window, closing it behind her as she stood in the opening before his kitchen. 

“We really should talk, Harry.”

The scotch in his glass swished around as he shrugged, watching her carefully as she retracted the wire on a contraption on her wrist. He could see the marks up and down her arms - especially the bullet wound he’d been there to see personally. 

“Where’s the lipstick?” Harry asked, “That was a good detail. You put that on rather quickly. Is the wig easy to put on too?”

Y/N remained silent, scratching around a scab on her elbow. “The thing I can’t figure out though,” Harry laughed sarcastically, moving around the kitchen so he was standing in front of her, “Is how you’re apparently an assassin but decided to be a party planner in your spare time.”

“Harry -”

“I should have seen it,” Harry shook his head, “It was ridiculous really, considering there were so many signs that I just completely ignored. I think I had my assumptions, and I know that secretly deep down I always knew but I just kept telling myself that no, Y/N isn’t that stupid to go out and play superhero.”

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I’m Usually More Gentle

Originally posted by codychristianbr

Part 1 Part 2

You’d texted Theo the details but you didn’t get a response so you were feeling a bit nervous. You checked your phone again but there was nothing and you went back to dealing with Cora’s bridezilla attitude and Lydia’s OCD as she oversaw the wedding. You were regretting agreeing to be maid of honour but you loved Cora and knew no one else could handle her and her biting sarcasm; plus she threatened to punch you in the face like ten times in last hour.

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we are young supernovas (and the heat's about to break)

Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.– we are young supernovas (and the heat’s about to break)– Leopold Fitz, Jemma Simmons (Fitzsimmons)– academy!fs AU– heavily implied sexy times

“How come you’ve never tried to kiss me?” she asks, quite suddenly in his opinion, and he chokes on his drink. Fitz doesn’t even have time to catch his breath, much less sputter out a response, before she’s tugging him forward and pressing her mouth against his insistently.

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imagine : take care sequel (TOU)

yes, I totally wrote a sequel for the first imagine. I love when you guys reach out to me! Know that you can message me for my opinion on stupid shit about practically any fandom because chances are that I have a rant on it. The prequel is out, too. It’s way better than this honestly.

Warnings — sequel trash, not extremely fluffy because if you know my writing at all it tends to be all drama and zero curtis sister clichés.

pretty sure this sucks?




Honestly, I don’t know what to expect when I wake up. Dallas Winston is never vulnerable for long, so I doubt cuddling or any of that shit will be in the cards. Part of me expects him to kick me out — the street-smart, wary half of me. Another part, the dreamy part, hopes he’ll keep me in his arms all morning and all night.

I guess reality chose to do both. Because I end up in somebody’s truck at eight o'clock in the morning with an unreadable Dallas next to me. He doesn’t hug me nor cuddle me, but he doesn’t exactly kick me out.

“Where’re you taking me?” I ask him. It’s back to reality. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that I am just some lost dog to him.

But unlike Johnny Cade, I’m just some lost dog. How can I believe him when he says that I’m the only girl he’s been with for a while? But then again, he knew he wasn’t getting anything from me. So why’d he say that? There was no way it was the truth.

No answer.

“You’re taking me back to their house, aren’t you?”

“I told you I was,” he finally speaks. And with the tone, I nearly regret pushing it. Being Dallas Winston must be hard, I guess. “Back to your house.”

“I’m telling you, Dallas. They don’t want me back there.”

“Could you just shut your trap?” He barks, pressing on the gas and lurching the truck some. The negative part of me wants to tell him to stay out of drama that isn’t his. The dreamy part of me knows there’s no reason for him to take me back there other than pure caring. But is it care for my well-being? God, why the fuck do I care?

I run my hands over my forehead to the hairline pushing back those pesky strands that insist on getting in my way. I’m wearing one of Buck’s one nightstand’s extras. It’s free of charge, which I’m thankful for but expect, considering all the nasty things I mentioned about Buck sleeping. 

“There’s no way you’re willing driving me back home. What’s the motive behind that? Why would you do that? We’ve been ignoring each other for weeks.”

Dallas laughs and it’s raw. I flinch at the sound. “He must of fucked you up something awful, huh? Doubting my motives. Jesus Christ, Y/N. I’m your fucking boyfriend! Do you not remember last night at all?”

My eyebrows come together and everything’s impossible to understand.

“You thought I’d get all close with you last night and then forget you exist? Yeah. That’s it, Y/N! Good job. You figured me out!”

I leave the subject alone because at this rate we’d end up nowhere. I want Dallas and he says he wants me but I sort of thought that was just talk. "I don’t know what I’ll say to them, Dally. I don’t think anything’ll make up for what I’ve been doing to them.“

Dallas grips the steering hard and his knuckles turn white. “It ain’t that hard. You just gotta apologize, man. Doll,” he says it like he’s reminding himself to be nice, “they might come off rude at the starting but it don’t mean nothing.”

“But I ain’t gonna act like I’m so sorry if they won’t take me back,” I say simply. “That’ll make me look weak, being rejected like that.”

Dallas sweeps his blonde hair away from his eyes. “Y/N, the old Y/N, wouldn’t give a fuck if she looked weak.”

“The old Y/N was ignorant and the new Y/N is stupid. But she’s tough,” I explain and I know it makes zero sense but it’s so true. In some weird way it’s the truest thing I’ve ever said, I think.

Dally rolls his eyes. “Whatever, kid. Just know,” he barks this at me, “if you back outta this I ain’t gonna bother helping you no more.”

“Gee, thanks.”


God, why is silence so fucking awkward?

“After you deliever me to Hell where are you going?”

“To kill him,” he answers matter-of-factly turning onto Hillsberry. I let out a dry laugh. If only it was that easy. “Said this last night, too. I stick to the things I say, kid. Why don’t you seem to get that?”

I feel a need to defend Him. “It’s not his fault, it’s mine. It’s Angela’s. It’s not his fault.”

Dally swerves the truck around and shockingly no fear rises in me. Dallas thinks little things like that will scare me. Maybe they used to.“It’s not his fucking fault? Yeah, Y/N? Did you see the bruises all over you? Did I imagine it?”

He grabs my wrist roughly and I wince. He’s just making a point but I need to resist the urge to punch him hard.

“He did love me, you know!” I yelp and grip the clothes that don’t belong to me. “It wasn’t always that way! I loved him for Christ’s sake!”

The rest of the car ride is tense and wordless.

Soon, the house is in view and Two-Bit Mathews is outside with a cigarette in his hand.

Dallas slams the door to the truck and kicks a metal trashcan. He’s so violent, isn’t he? I never noticed. I jump out the truck with a long sigh. The sky is gray and I can hear a bird in the distance singing. In my bedroom, I used to hear that same song.

“Two-Bit,” I greet but it’s crisp and short. Why does it sound so fake? “How are you these days?”

Chances are he’ll spit in my face. He just puffs on his cigarette and makes a smoke ring. “I’m just great. How ‘bout you, Little Curtis? How’s gang and drug life? I always thought I could run with those kinds of people but I guess ruining your life is required. Well, now you know why I end up at your place time and time again.”

I open my mouth to respond, but he breaks out in laughter and pulls me in for a hug. I still feel the need to defend Angela and the girls and the boys I met and Him. I think that feeling’ll go away soon.

“Is everyone home?” I ask as we part. For the first time in a while I care about how knotted my hair looks, and how skinny I am. “Steve, too? Cade?”

Two-Bit nods.

“Cool,” I bite my lip in anxiousness. “See ya later. Take care of Dallas, will you? Make sure he’s conscious for dinner time. Tell him I wanna talk later.”

Two-Bit grins and nods again before going over to Dally. I’m finally about to enter the house when a figure comes to view across the street.

It’s a boy I know. I know a lot of boys, now. I didn’t use to any outside our little gang. Our little gang that isn’t really a gang. Am I in that gang again? "Y/N!“

He yells a few other things and I sort of wave and avoid Dally and Two-Bit’s stares.

I walk inside the house and I’m incredibly tense. "Anyone home?” I don’t know why I ask that, because I know Soda and Pony and Darry are and Johnny and Steve too.

Oh god, what am I doing? He could of picked me up right now if I asked. But that’s just running from one problem to another. Is He looking for me? I just want to hug Darry or Soda or someone but what if they don’t want a hug from me?

“Y/N?” It’s Johnny. I like Johnny but I used to be jealous of him because Dally gives him so much attention. I never realized it was a different kind of attention than the attention he was giving me. “Sodapop! Pony! Come out here, guys!”

“I’m here,” I say stupidly as I stared at the floor. “Dally’s outside if you…”

“Where the hell have you been?” Oh god, it’s Darry. Oh god, oh god, oh god. I’m a timid, little kid again. “Who’s clothes are those? They barely fit you, you know.”

“I’ve just been around,” I can barely meet his eyes. That’s what Dally said, right? Around? “But I’m back, I guess.”

I feel so stupid and small standing in front of them. Days ago, if you asked me where I’d been I have a real cool response. Now I couldn’t form a real sentence.

I felt so strong when I was so weak. Well, I guess that I learned a lesson, huh? About how not to live. How to lose your family. I’m not like Angela — the kind of girl who can get away with doing that kind of stuff. She doesn’t have a family like mine. She doesn’t have anything to lose like I do.

I know Darry could of tried harder. He could of always asked me where and who I was going and hanging out with before I really ran off. But I would of lied to him, anyway.

“That break sure did you well,” Ponyboy’s remark drips with sarcasm and I end up breaking into silent sobs right then and there.

I’m not supposed to cry like this. What the fuck is wrong with me? I look like a sorry three year old.

Soda pulls me into a hug and I keep crying into his shirt. It’s silent and no one speaks and I just keep crying and crying. It’s good that I’m not wearing that eyeshadow He likes so much. It’d be all over Soda’s shirt in chalky smudges. “You never, ever went to Mary-Ann’s, did you? All those nights…”

“I’m sorry,” I say. I really am sorry, but that contradicting part of me doesn’t regret it that much. I had fun messing up and getting drunk and doing stupid things. “I won’t leave again.”

“We thought you weren’t ever gonna come back,” Darry booms. “Do you know how scary that was?”

I look him in the eyes, free of Soda’s embrace. “I was just hanging around Angela and these girls, Darry. I didn’t realize the kinds of stuff they got into until after.”

I hear the door open and shut twice. Steve and Johnny leave and meet Two-Bit in the yard but Dallas enters the house with no intentions on giving us privacy.

Soda grabs my hand. “What about that guy you said you met, Y/N? He seemed real nice.”

My eyes meet Dally’s. “We broke things off a while ago. He was fine with it ‘cause he’d been eyeing this other girl anyways. Ended on good terms.”

“So, when you started dating him you guys were really going out for dinner and stuff, right?” Soda asks with slightly furrowed eyebrows. “You weren’t doing nothing else?”

Yes, yes we were doing other stuff. Bad stuff even Angela wouldn’t admit to doing. “We always went to that diner Mom took us to. That’s all.” I’m lying. Why am I lying? This is good lying. This lying will lead to good things. “Sometimes the drive-in.”

They forgave me. I’m not sure how, but they forgave me. Soda says they missed me running around the house even when they acted like they didn’t care I was gone. I think Darry actually wanted me back besides the fact that he’d get in a heap of trouble from Social Services if I wasn’t home for the next visit.

Darry and Pony tell me it’ll take some time for them to fully forgive me, and I understand. Darry trusted me too much to be an adult when I was still a kid. And Dally kept his word. Well, both of them. We’re going out again and he put that kid in the hospital.




spxce-gxy  asked:

Accidentally sent as an anon before but I have another prompt idea. Sleepover on the meteor? Like one night Dave can't sleep so he wakes up karkat and sleeps in his room but it evolves into a thing that they do quite frequently.

thanks!  i’m gonna put this under the cut because it got long.  it’s not exactly the scenario you asked for but i hope you like it anyway

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Protect the Pack: Part 5

(Masterlist for the others)

I tried to ignore the summoning at first, but the burning sensation spread through me like fire. I let it consume me and then I was in the counsel room surrounded by all of the elders clad in their golden robes. Well, this does not look good for me. Might as well have a little fun.

The Eldest looked me up and down with a faint smile and spoke in her silky smooth voice, “Ah, 10 so glad you were able to join us this time.” Unable to control myself, I scoffed at the assigned name and got knocked off my feet. “You’d do well to hold your tongue, 10, we don’t want this meeting to go like the last one.”

I smirked at the reminder of the last meeting and started picking myself up off the ground, “That reminds me,” I paused and turned around until my eyes landed on one of the other elders, “Kane, how’s your face?”

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