hey man you okay

  • me: i have very high standards!
  • ben platt: *exists*

@thunderboltsortofapenny said: No no let’s do this! Why would steve need to be fake married. Or why would bucky need to be fake married to Steve. We need a reason. #Viper do the thing #It’ll be fun!

So I did the thing, and it’s stupid and terrible, but here, have it:

Bucky’s an EMT. Normal guy, just living his life, trying to help where he can. And then one day, all of a sudden, the aliens are invading NYC, and Bucky’s out there helping, right in the middle of the danger zone because of course he is.

There’s a fight going on, and a bunch of freaks in weird suits seem to be fighting the aliens, but Bucky doesn’t have much time to focus on anything other than all the people in dire need of medical attention. He does what he can to help, grabs the first metal bar he can find and fights only the aliens getting in his way, and works himself to exhaustion. Then there’s a blast, and it sends a man flying right into the wall next to him.

“Hey, you okay?” Bucky asks, rushing to help him, and though Bucky could’ve sworn the blow was hard enough to crush anyone’s ribs, he’s surprised to see the man–who must’ve been on his way to a costume party–stand up practically unscathed.

He’s got broad shoulders and a strong jaw and eyes of the prettiest shade of blue Bucky’s ever seen, and even with his face covered in soot and grime and blood, Bucky’s heart skips a beat.

For a few seconds the man seems a bit disoriented, then he finally registers Bucky’s presence. “What are you doing here?? Get out of the streets!”

“I was–” Bucky starts, and is cut off by an explosion right above their heads and a bunch of debris raining down on them, and a hand shoving him aside.

When he comes to, which is a surprise in itself, the dust has started to clear, and the man who’s clearly saved his life is carrying him as if he weighed nothing, concern in those beautiful eyes and a big, warm hand pressed tenderly against Bucky’s neck, checking for a pulse.

He locks eyes with Bucky and sighs in relief, the hint of a smile on his plush lips, but the hand remains where it is. “Hi,” he says. “You all right?”

“Y-yeah… Thank you,” Bucky replies, but he doesn’t move to free himself of the man’s arms. His stomach is doing something weird, and the man surely has other people to rescue, but for a few seconds they both just stay there, shell-shocked and staring at each other like the world around them has stopped.

Then something blows up nearby, and the spell is broken.

Carefully, the man helps him to his feet, makes sure Bucky’s in one piece, and then says, “Find shelter, okay? Stay inside.”

Bucky’s not planning to, but he can’t find it in him to tell that to this incredible man, so he slowly licks his lips and nods. Before turning around to leave, the man offers him a small, shy smile.

- - - - -

During the next few weeks after the Chitauri attack on NYC, every single piece of footage of the Avengers fighting against the aliens and helping civilians goes viral. Phone videos, security cameras, blurry pics.

The most popular, by far, is a snapshot of Captain America carrying a guy, who can be seen fighting aliens and helping people in other videos, bridal style, thumb caressing his jaw, and both looking like lovestruck teenagers.

Bucky can’t go to the grocery store or even do his job without being stalked by the paparazzi or Cap’s groupies or just random people wanting to know what his Avenger name is, and for how long he’s been dating Captain America.

- - - - -

“You’ve ruined my life!!” Bucky tells him, because of course, of course Captain America would pick Bucky’s park for his morning run. Of course Bucky’d slip on wet leaves on the pavement precisely this morning, and of fucking course Captain America would just happen to be around to catch him at just the right time. Bucky’s seeing red.

“I’m sorry,” Captain America says, and it’s extremely unfair just how genuine and how much like a kicked puppy he looks.

Christ, Bucky wants to punch him.

- - - - -

Steve’s been living in PR hell.

He’s spent the past weeks “saving” girls and boys alike from getting hit by a bicycle, or fainting, or a fuckton of equally stupid shit.

The second anyone spots Captain America, there’ll suddenly be some kind of dangerous situation going down, and someone hoping Cap will carry them bridal style to safety and maybe fall head over heels in love with them in the process.

Steve is tired and done and ready to get back in the ice for another few decades, and shares Pepper’s worries that someone might actually put themself in real danger soon.

“We should handle this before it gets worse,” Nat says. And Steve agrees, of course, but he just doesn’t know how.

“Just marry the guy,” Clint suggests.

Steve almost chokes to death on his own spit.


Clint shrugs. “Why not? Half the world already thinks you’re dating…”

“Clint, he hates me…”

“Only cause people keep pestering him about this. If you two get married it’ll be a circus, but then it’ll blow over. He can’t even do his job right now, right? So you pay the guy for the trouble, yadda yadda, then when this is over you two get a quick divorce, and that’s it. Problem solved.”

For two minutes, no one else opens their mouth. Then:

“He’s got a point…”

“Tony, no,” Steve whines.

“You saw the footage, how he was helping those civilians… If you have to marry someone, he’s not a bad candidate,” Nat says, and then smirks. “Plus, he’s cute.”

Steve already knows he’s lost this battle, but that doesn’t help him feel any better about this. Yes, he’s cute. Yes, he’s a brave and kind and smart guy. Yes, Steve could very easily pretend to be married to him for a while and yes it’d help them both. None of that’s the problem.

The problem is that he kind of really likes the guy.

The problem is that the guy hates him.

This is a really, really bad idea.

New Rules

Title: New Rules

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Request: Can you do something with tom or Peter based on the song new rules by dua lipa? It would be great if you could 😘💖

Word count: 2,582

A/N: I literally listened to this song nonstop while making this and i didnt edit any of it so its all raw writing but i really liked how it turned out. enjoy!

Warnings: Swearing, angst, very hostile actions, alcohol 

Tagged (permanent): @tomllholland , @manyfandomstohandle , @superheros-and-books , @jor-da-na , @ferls212 

You and Peter have been friends since diapers, you were there for him when his parents died and he moved across the hall from you, he was there for you when your mom died from cancer.

You both made a pack that you would always have each other no matter what, but right now in this moment it felt like peter had abandoned you.

You were at Liz’s party, the music loud and Peter trying his best to get Liz’s attention while you were being harassed by drunk teenage boys.

“Come on it won’t hurt I just wanna touch em.” That’s it you thought that’s he line, “Peter please let’s go.” You yelled your plea over the loud music Flash was DJing.

“Y/N come on I’ve only gotten to talk to Liz once.” Peter spoke without making even a glance your way. You finally got the strength and pushed your way out of the small amount of guys trying to not just harass you but sexually harass you and if Peter isn’t going to help then I just have to help myself, as soon as you were out of the small circle you felt a hand slap your butt and with instinct you turned around as slapped the guy who touched you.

The sound of the slap echoing around with the music which finally grabbed the attention of your so called best friend, Peter. His eyes widened at the scene before him. A hand print on some guys face and tears threatening to spill out of your eyes.

You connected your eyes with his for a split second before turning on your heels to go and find Ned to walk home with.

You had hoped that maybe Peter would run after you, stop you and talk to you about what happened but when you turned around to see if he would follow you saw him get stopped by Liz and not make any other effort to try and get to you.

You huffed and turn back around to continue your search for Ned, you were leaving with or without Peter.

You finally found Ned in the kitchen awkwardly staring at the bowl of chips set out next to the wine coolers, “Hey Ned you okay?” Ned jumps slightly making you let out a small laugh.

“Hey yeah sorry, what’s up? Where’s Peter?” Ned asked his scanning for Peter around you “he’s off with uhh well you should know..” you shrugged “but I really wanna leave and Peter won’t listen to me so do you you could walk me home?” Your pleading eyes catching Ned’s.

“Alright, let’s go.” Ned sighed taking the lead toward the front door of Liz’s house.

You brush past Liz and Peter trying to make yourself unnoticeable, which shouldn’t be hard to do since Peter only ever has eyes for Liz, But a hand catches your arm before your out of the living room.

“Hey Y/N, where are you going?” You rake your eyes up the hand and arm that caught you only to be greeted by the brown orbs you were trying to avoid.

“I’m leaving and Ned is taking me home.” You huff pulling your arm from Peters hand and catch a glimpse of hurt in his eyes before turning and continuing your trek out of the large house.

“There you are.” Ned released a breath as you stepped onto the front porch.

“Yeah sorry, Peter stopped me…” You let out a shaky breath before continuing “Shall we go?” You smile over at Ned. “Sure.” He smiles back stepping off the porch with you right behind him. You slip you hands into the small pockets on your jeans. “Hey Ned, could we just go to yours?” Ned laughs lightly, nodding his head fro your answer.

“Thanks.” you sigh, seeing your breath come out into the air in a small puff cloud.

Ned and you have been walking for about 10 minuets which meant that you were almost to Ned’s place. You only asked to go to his because you knew you would have to call your dad to come pick you up from a party which you weren’t even suppose to be at in the beginning but peter had talked you into it. Now that you were thinking about it Peter did that a lot, convinced you to go out and ‘hangout’ as he put it but you saw through the lie, whenever you two would hang out it would be somewhere with Liz.

You felt your chest start to throb and hurt thinking about how much Peter liked Liz and not you, she hardly ever gives him a sideways glance when I’m always going out of my way just for him, why can’t he see that. You puff seeing your breath come out again. It’s getting colder and you didn’t have a coat.

“Hey Ned do you have a jacket at your house i could wear?” you speak up, “Uh yeah, we’ll be there in like ten minuets.” Ned replied looking over his shoulder slightly at you.

You saw figure appear out of an ally next to the pathway to Ned’s place. A nervous feeling surged through your body telling you not to move further but you didn’t listen, instead you followed Ned across the street, he must’ve gotten the same feeling.

As soon as the two of you passed by the figure and the ally the feeling subsided and the feeling relief replaced it. But that didn’t last long when you felt a hand grab your midsection and another hand slap over your mouth. You tried to scream but it was only muffed by the large hand covering your face. Ned snapped his body back to see what had happened and his eyes widened at the scene.

“Give me all your money kid and she doesn’t get hurt.” The figure spat at Ned which sparked him to search through all his pockets, scavenging what looked to be just a dollar, “Come on kid, you gotta have more than that, what about your wallet.” The man spat again at Ned, his grip tightening around your waist. You felt tears roll down your face and your life flashing before your eyes. What-what if Ned doesn’t have what he wants and he kidnaps me, or .. kills me. Your mind flips to the worst situation that could happened causing more tears to fall and screams to come out of your muffled mouth. “Shut it.” the man hissed in your ear making you crawl in your skin.

“Come on kid hurry u-” the grip around your waist vanishes along with the hand around your face, “Didn’t anyone tell you, stealing lunch money is sooo last season.” You whip your head around to see who saved you and your friend.

You freeze seeing the familiar red and blue suit of the local hero, spider-man. He shoots a web at the guy trapping both his hands on the pavement and one more at the guys mouth silencing his words. “Thank you Mr. Spider-man!” Ned practically shouted with a smile bigger than the sun on his face. How could Ned smile after a situation like that? “It-” the hero coughed, “it’s nothing, are you two alright?” his voice lowered slightly as his head switched looking from Ned to you.

You couldn’t do anything, you’re still frozen, no words able to come out so all you did was nod as the last of your tears fell from you face. “Hey, hey your okay now.” Spider-man began walking toward you with his arms open ready to hug you, and you accepted the hug needing some kind of comfort at the moment and the guy you really wanted here to be with you wasn’t so a superhero was a pretty good substitute.

You were the first to pull away from he hug and wipe your tears off your face with the back of your hand, “would you like me to walk you guys home?” the hero spoke taking a small step back from you.

“I’m good spider-man but Y/N here lives a bit away, do you think you could walk her?” Ned asked from the side of you. Your head snapped over to Ned direction than back to looking at the masked hero in front of you, “You really don’t have to, I can just call my-” you were interrupted by spider-man “Oh not its no big deal, plus you need to stay safe and no where is safer than with a hero.” he said proudly putting his hands on his hips. you felt a small smile creep onto your face and agreed to let him walk you home.

“Good night Ned, please be safe.” You waved to your friend who contained walking to his house. “So where do you live?” your eyes glanced up at the heres mask, specifically where his eyes should be, “uhh right off of park avenue.” You practically whispered tearing your eyes away from his mask and began walking home with spider-man.

As soon as you reached your apartment building you thanked your masked hero and took the stairs to the floor your apartment was on.

You fished your keys out of your pocket and opened the door. “There you are!” your dada practically ran you over as you came in the door, “Where were you young lady.” you smiled, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes because you loved your dad so much and what happened just a little while ago made you realize just how much you needed to show him how much you loved him, “I was with Peter and Ned, we went to grab some food and then a movie.” you spoke walking to your room, yes you loved your dad and you had a life changing experience but you can’t let him know what happened, he would be furious and worry about you non-stop. You didnt want to add to his already full plate.

As soon as you were in your room you changed into your pajamas and slid into your bed, under the covers and tried your best to get to sleep.

“Hey!” the familiar face of Peter’s comes into your view “Hey.” You sigh shutting your locker and make your way to your first class of the day.

“Whoa whoa wait Y/N!” Peter shouted grabbing your arm so you would stop, “What’s wrong?” you could hear the confused sadness in his voice, you didn’t dare turn around because you would fall back into his trap of doing what he wants and him forgetting you even exist because Liz is in the same room. “Nothing, Peter I’ll talk to you later.” You pull your arm away from his grip and continue to your class.

Lunch finally rolls around and you can’t be more happy to just go to the library to relax from the world and eat your food in private while shoving your nose in a book. But as soon as you reach the clear see through doors of the library you see Peter sitting at the table you normally find yourself at.

You catch his eyes and instantly regret ever coming to the library in the first place because he gets up out of his chair and starts toward your direction. You can feel the panic rise in your stomach and instead of being the mature person and talking to Peter, you turn on your heel ad head in the direction back to the lunch room.

“Y/N!” you hear Peter yell as the library doors slam close. your feet begin to pick up speed as you see the lunch room entrance and frantically look for Michelle, you spot her at the corner of the lunch room with a book in one hand and an apple in the other. You head to her table, set your stuff down and practically slam your head on the table.

“Tell me when he’s gone, ok?” you speak just loud enough for Michelle to hear.

“He’s headed over here.” Michelle spoke in her monotone voice while she put her book down on the table, “Whats going on?” you lifted your head from the table to be greeted by Peters worried looking face. “You said you’d talk to me later and its later so what is going on?” you slowly turned your head to look at Michelle for some help but only saw her pack up her things and grab her lunch tray before leaving, “Thanks MJ!” you sarcastically shouted as she walked away with a small wave.

a sigh escaped Peters mouth causing you to put your focus back on the distressed boy, you couldn’t help the guilt that rose in your throat because of how bad you were treating Peter.

“Listen Peter-” you didnt get to finish as peter interrupted you “Is this about last night? I’m sorry i wanted to talk to Liz, it was my chance and i decided to take it.” Peter grabbed your hand, squeezing git slightly “You understand right?” you were disgusted by the smile that graced his face. “No Peter it’s not only about last night but overtime we fucking 'hangout’ we always seem to go where ever Liz and then you forgot that I’m even there god dammit.” you couldn’t help your voice raising a little bit, you were mad, mad that the guy liked was sitting across from you treating you like he didnt even see it. “wha- no i wasn’t-” this time you cut him off, pulling your hand away from his.

“No Peter, I’m not done..” you sucked in a deep breath before continuing “did you know last night was getting harassed by a group of guys? I called you and asked for help but all you could think about was Liz and-and when i finally got the courage to stand up for them and leave asking you to leave with me you didnt, you-you-you got distracted by Liz, fucking Liz so i went to find Ned..” you let out a shaky breath, trying to control your emotions and actions.

“And when Ned and I were walking back to his house we got jumped Peter, we got jumped Peter Parker!” you practically were shouting by now with tears threatening to spill from your eyes “And all i could think in that moment was that I was going to be kidnaped or killed and you weren’t with me…you-you weren’t with me, you were with Liz.”

you tear your eyes away from Peters, everything getting too intense for you. “Ned and I got saved from Spider-man, Peter.” By this point tears were falling from your eyes as you furiously wipe them away. “So Last night i decided..” you pause taking in another breath before continuing “I decided that I can’t do this anymore. I’m in too deep and i don’t , no I can’t bare being hurt by you anymore Peter, so goodbye.”

you stand from the lunch table leaving your tray of food and the broken heart of Peter Parker behind. You look back one last time as you leave the lunch room, seeing Peter already staring at you with tears spilling down his face.

“This is better for both of us, I promise.” You whisper more to yourself than anyone else. You were done with being hurt.

You’re playing by your rules now and rule 1 is Peter Parker is out of your life because if you let him back in you’ll be stuck in an endless loop of pain.

when someone has the same interest in a tv show/movie/book/etc they are either too obsessed or not obsessed enough there is no in between

consider; will breaks a rib or something and apollo kids cant be healed as quickly as everyone else due to their natural ability to heal others, so will cant bind for a while until it heals. nico is by his side all day and glares at everyone, daring them to say something, silencing them with his terrifying death glare. nobody picks up on it though. almost everyone has seen will without his binder at least once, so they dont think much of it, and will is nice even if he’s kind of a hermit, so no one pokes fun at him. while nico thinks they’re afraid of him and he’s scaring them into submission, they really assume nico’s glare just means he’s in a bad mood today. if some people are a little kinder to him at the night’s bonfire, nico doesn’t question it.

the blazing bombardier.

Idk, this is just a summery fluffball of a Sterek getting-together drabble because I’m tired of winter. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Derek fundamentally doesn’t understand people who like roller coasters.

He knows such people exist because he’s been standing in line with them for the Blazing Bombardier for half an hour now, but even when he’s looking right at them, it’s hard to believe. Seriously, why. The list of things to do on a Saturday afternoon that don’t involve screaming and trying not to hurl is literally infinite. He could be lounging around in his pjs in his dorm right now and rereading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, just for example. Or working out, or going for a drive to the beach, or watching a movie with Boyd and Erica. (Boyd and Erica are officially his favorite people right now because, unlike his sisters, they understand the basic concept that friends don’t make their friends who lose bets ride the most terrifying invention since clown costumes.)

The line moves forward, and oh god, now Derek can actually see the loading station. The seats are wicked-looking hanging harnesses painted to look like flames. He’s going to be sick before he even sits down in the thing.

Keep reading

Jim opened the door to his home and frowned when he saw Tony standing there, patting Peter’s back and looking very worried. He had Peter’s diaper bag, which wasn’t unusual in itself. He did have a suitcase though. That was unusual, but not concerning. Jim leaned against the doorway and raised an eyebrow.

“Hi, Rhodey!” Tony said, smile tremulous. “Thought we’d come for a visit!”

“Hi,” Jim replied, then reached out to ruffle Peter’s hair. “Hey, Pookie.”

Peter gave him a shy, gummy smile and shoved a handful of teddy grahams into his mouth.

Jim got the safety gates put up and coffee on, and Tony got Peter situated in his playpen. They were on their second cups of coffee before Tony spoke again.

“I’m leaving him,” he said softly.

Jim sat his cup down heavily. “You just finalized your adoption.”

Tony stared down into his coffee. “I—I came to realize that Ty only went through with it because he thought Peter would anchor me to him. He hasn’t—ever since we adopted him, Ty hadn’t been involved with Peter. I won’t have him be Peter’s Howard. And I won’t be Peter’s Maria, staying with him and hoping things will work out. It’s—it’s better to have one good parent than half a good one.”

Jim stared at him for a long time before he reached out and put his hand on top of Tony’s. “Hey, man. You know I’ll support you. I never liked Ty anyway.”

“I know,” Tony said, tears in his eyes. “I know. I should have listened to you.”

Jim gave his hand a squeeze. “But then you wouldn’t have gotten this cute booger—who is now escaping his playpen.”

“Peter!” Tony gasped, flying over to him before he could flip over the edge of the playpen onto his head.

“Hey,” Jim said gently, grabbing Tony’s elbow and drawing him away from the window he was staring blankly out of. “Hey. It’ll be okay.”

“He froze all my assets,” Tony replied, voice shaking. “My assets. That I brought into the marriage. And are protected by my pre-nup.”

“Pepper’s working on it,” Jim reminded him. “It’ll work out. Stone’s afraid of her.”

Tony managed the tiniest of smiles. “Everyone’s afraid of her.”

“That’s ‘cause she’ll stab you in the eye with a stiletto,” Jim answered immediately.

“Yeah,” Tony agreed, before his smile fell again. “What did I do wrong?”

“Sometimes you don’t do anything wrong and it still doesn’t work out, Tony,” Jim said quietly, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “C’mon, man. Let’s go on a walk.”

“Walk!” Peter repeated excitedly, holding his arms out to be picked up.

Tiberius was a jerk and hired a lawyer that threw his weight around more than Pepper could handle. Pepper hired a lawyer that was slowly but surely putting a case together that would free Tony of Stone forever. Still, Tony’s assets were frozen, and while he still had his penthouse apartment, Ty was there too.

“Listen,” Jim said as Tony sat nursing a cup of tea that Bruce had said would help after an anxiety attack. He reached out to put his hand on top of Tony’s and ignored the way it trembled made him want to find and murder Tiberius. “Listen. I’m being deployed.”

“Oh,” Tony said, trying to put on a brave face and missing by a mile. “Oh, I see.”

“You don’t have to go,” Jim added hurriedly. “Listen, I said.”

Tony swallowed thickly. “Okay.”

“I usually give the guys across the street a couple hundred bucks to keep an eye on my house, water my plants, mow my lawn when I’m gone on trips.” Jim gave his hand a squeeze. “Just stay here while I’m gone. I’ll pay you to house-sit for me.”

Tony stared at their entwined hands before whispering, “You’ve already done so much for me, Rhodey. I couldn’t—I couldn’t do that, I owe you so much.”

Jim took a deep breath, let it back out through his nose slowly. “I’m not doing it for you,” he said finally. “I’m doing it for Peter. He needs someplace safe to stay. I live in a gated community. I’ll just take that couple hundred and give it to you for groceries and stuff.”

Tony ran a hand through his hair, torn. “Rhodey—”

Listen,” Jim repeated sternly. “You’re like a brother to me, Tones. You know I take care of my family. Hell, when Jeanette died—” He swallowed down the anger and hurt he still felt at her passing. “—You were there for me and my parents and Lila. Of course we’re gonna be here for you too. Let me take care of you for a while, you dummy.”

Tony sniffled and lifted his free hand to wipe his eyes. “Why did my life have to get so fucked up, Rhodey?”

Jim stood up so he could pull him into a hug. “I’m just sorry I didn’t stop you from marrying that asshole.” He winced as Tony sobbed into his shoulder, lifting a hand to stroke his hair. “Hey, man, it’s okay. You got Peter out of it, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what I’d do without him,” Tony admitted tearfully. “It still sucks. I didn’t do anything to deserve this.”

“Yeah,” Jim sighed, giving him a tight squeeze. “Yeah, I know.”

Steve opened the door and blinked in surprise. “Colonel Rhodes!”

“Jim,” Jim said tiredly. “Steve, please, for the love of God, we’ve lived next to each other for three years. We’re not even the same branches.”

“…I fear you,” Steve said after a moment.

Jim thought about that, then nodded to himself, instead choosing to loom over the blond (which worked even though Steve was six foot one and built like a tank. White people.). “Good.”

Steve’s eyes went wide as he took a step back.

“I’m being deployed.”

“Oh,” Steve said. “You want us to keep an eye on your house.”

“No,” Jim said, and then tilted his head. “Well, yes. My friend’s house-sitting for me, but if you guys could keep an eye on him, make sure there’s not any shady characters around, that’d be great. He’s going through a divorce and his ex is fucking insane.”

Steve frowned, concerned, but he nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

Jim pulled out his phone to show him the lock screen, which was an adorable picture of Tony and Peter beaming at the camera with yogurt on their faces. “If you see anyone but this guy holding this baby, I want you to call the police. And if some of their bones get broken while you wait for the cops that’s okay too.”

“A baby,” Steve whispered, appalled that this was something they needed to be warned about. “You’ve got it, Colonel.”

Jim nodded, pleased, then frowned. “Oh wait. Okay there are two terrifying redheads that get to hold Peter too. But you’ll know them because they will look at you and you will feel your manhood wither and die.”

“I have a friend like that so I understand,” Steve told him seriously.

“…That explains so much about you, Steve,” Jim said, reluctantly amused.

“I’ll be gone for a year,” Jim said.

Tony nodded, bouncing Peter lightly in his arms. “Okay.”

“I’ll Skype as often as I’m able.”


Jim paused in front of the car that would be taking him to the airport, giving his friend and godson one last, fond look. “I told the neighbors to be on the lookout for any creepers. If they see anyone suspicious, they’re gonna call my landline to warn you before they call the police.”

Tony’s breath hitched. “You really thought of everything, didn’t you?”

“When Stone dies, I’m going to piss on his grave,” Jim informed him, then leaned in to press kisses to Peter’s cheeks. “Mwah mwah mwah mwah!”

“Nooo Unca Rhodeeeeyyyyy!” Peter squealed, laughing. “No kissies, Unca Rhodey!”

“Aw, sugar pea,” Jim cooed. “But I’m leaving for a whole year! I gotta get my kisses in now!”

“Boo,” Peter said, scowling.

Tony snorted. “Aw, honey, he’s leaving for a really long time. Give him a kiss goodbye.”

Jim beamed as Peter grabbed his cheeks in his chubby little hands and leaned in to press a delicate kiss to his left eyebrow. “Thanks, honey lamb.”

“I missed,” Peter said, pressing another kiss to Jim’s forehead. Then he leaned back and waved, nearly slapping him in the face. “Buh-bye, Unca Rhodey!”

“You need to send me so many pictures,” Jim told Tony seriously.

Tony laughed. “Of course!”

“Lotsa pichers!” Peter agreed.

Jim smiled and tweaked one of his cheeks. “Thanks, honey.” He looked up at Tony, tilting his head across the street. “The guys across the street are army. They’re paranoid around the fourth but otherwise good guys. I’ve got them looking out for you.”

Tony squinted at him thoughtfully. “One of them is the guy that’s super terrified of you, right?”

“Of course he’s terrified of me,” Jim scoffed. “Which means he’ll keep an extra careful eye on you because I asked.”

Why is he terrified of you?”

“Probably because I’m a colonel. Anyway I’ve gotta head out. Bye, Peter Rabbit,” Jim cooed, pressing one last kiss to his head, then reached out to grip Tony’s shoulder. “Take care of yourself. Call Pepper if you run into trouble.”

Tony nodded. “Okay. Take care, Rhodey. Come back in one piece.”

“Always,” Jim said, before he ducked into the car.

Tony walked out into the street so Peter could continue to wave, shouting ‘buh-bye Unca Rhodey!’ over and over. He glanced over at the house across the street. A blond man turned from watching Jim’s cab and paused on him, lifting his hand in an awkward wave.

Tony waved back shyly before adjusting his grip on his son. “Come on, Peter Pepper. Time to get lunch.”

“Macaroni!” Peter cheered, throwing his arms up.

Tony pressed his nose to Peter’s hair, taking a shaky breath. Ty was the biggest asshole in the world, but at least he had Peter.

Hey man, if you need to cry it’s okay. You don’t have to force yourself to hold back those tears. You’re allowed to express your pain and frustration. You shouldn’t have to be afraid of looking weak, ‘cause it’s ok to be weak. So feel free to cry if you need, go find some privacy if you need to. I promise you it’s alright, and it’ll be our little secret. I won’t tell a soul, just do what you need to do.

You’re enough ~ Svance

Welcome all aboard Pebble’s Svance Train! We are now arriving at the first stop: angst central

WC: 4400 - AO3 link in my Bio!

(I’m tagging @skylocked @katanartzgaden and @elenorasweet - you guys seemed interested so y’all can pass first judgement)

Lance approached her one quiet day, when she was watching the universe through the observation deck.
“Hey, Princess Allura?”
He sounded quiet, wounded; in a regular situation, she would have been surprised, worried even, but these days it was more commonplace than she was comfortable with. The disappearance of Shiro had shaken everyone, and the further swapping of Paladins had further degraded the teams morale. Even the former Black Paladin’s reappearance hadn’t completely lifted the mood.
She turned on the ball of her foot to face him and smiled gently. He looked tired, eyes locked on the floor and a miserable half-smile on his face. Even in the soft blue light of the staffs and galaxies outside the thick windows didn’t improve the situation, instead drawing dark shadows under his eyes and nose. “Lance? What’s wrong?”

He stalled, eyes wide. “Y'know what, actually it’s not that important,” he rambled, half-smile becoming wide and fake, “sorry for pestering you, Princess!”
Lance.” Allura raised an eyebrow. “You can tell me your problems, you know.”
“I wouldn’t want to trouble you, it’s okay.” The smile was wider now, somewhat reaching his eyes.
“I would like to think that we were close enough to share our troubles by now,” she offered with a gentle smile, walking over to where he was stood in the centre of the room, “are we not friends?”
That seemed to shock him, causing a blush to grow on his cheeks and the smile to shrink gently. “Hey, we totally are friends,” he confirmed with a laugh, “blue bros, right?”
“Well, if we’re friends, then you know that you can confide in me.”

His fingers went to the hem of his jacket, playing with loose threads and torn seams. “Would it ever be possible to go back to that alternative reality?”

That wasn’t what Allura had been expecting.

“How do you mean?”
“Would we ever be able to go back?” He asked with a shrug, not greeting her gaze.
“Well, I’m not sure why we would ever want to.” The thought of those heartless Alteans, who enslaved other races and nearly killed her Paladins, was nearly too much to bare. She huffed and folded her arms. “I doubt it would be possible without the comet anyway, and that’s unfortunately still owned by Lotor and his cronies,” she added, spitting the Galran Prince’s name like poison.
“Oh, okay.” He shrugged and wrapped his arms around himself again. “Oh well, thanks Allura-”
“Lance, wait.” She reached out for his arm, grabbing it before he turned away. “Why would you want to go back? That reality was in no way a good one.”

There was a brief period of silence before Lance reluctantly looked back up at her.
“That Freedom fighter, Sven,” he explained with a sigh, “he took a shot for me, like, the dude straight up pushed me out of the way!” His hands flew out, waving as his voice began to raise. “If it weren’t for him, I would’ve been hit and taken by those gladiators, y'know?” His face fell again, letting his hands hang at his sides. “I don’t even know if he’s alive or not.”
Allura stood and listened, remaining quiet for long after Lance finished speaking. “I wish there was something I could do,” she finally admitted, placing her other hand on his shoulder, “if it’s any consolation, his injuries didn’t appear fatal, and the other Slav seemed to have the situation under control.”
He rubbed his arms below where Allura’s hands were placed. “I guess so,” he replied hesitantly, “but if we ever get that comet ship back, could we try?”
“I don’t see why not,” she said with a small smile, increasing once she saw how Lance’s face almost instantly lit up, “I’m sure that Hunk or Pidge will still have the co-ordinates of the wormhole.”

The change was instantaneous; his grin became real and large, and he pumped the air with a ferocity that made Allura stumble back. “Thanks Princess!”
“It’s nothing, really.” She waved her hand dismissively, and was about to turn back to the cosmic view when she noticed Lance’s hands fumble around in his pockets. “Lance, what’s-?”
Looking over his shoulder, almost to check for anyone else in the room, he pulled a small device out of his shirt pocket; it looked similar to the portable holograms that Pidge had created, but a soft lime green instead of the orange she was used to. It also glowed with an unfamiliar sigil, Altean, yet unreadable. Allura passed it between her hands, testing the weight wearily, before handing it back to Lance who protectively cradled the device against his chest.
“He gave me this, before I had to leave him with Slav,” he explained with a softer, more tender smile, “It might be some form of communication device.”
Despite Lance’s excitement, Allura didn’t quite know how to feel. “It might be dangerous, Lance,” she answered back, taking a step towards the other paladin, “what if Lotor or the alternate Alteans were able to track the signal?”
“Dude, chill.” His hands went into the air in surrender. “I doubt I’ll even be able to connect across realities. See?”

He tapped a finger against the front of the device, and the entire screen lit up.

“Lance? What have you done?” Allura looked down at the device in confusion. The lime green was covered by a box on neon blue, with a small grey keyboard at the bottom in unfamiliar letters. “Is this-”
“English, yeah,” he confirmed, “I guess they speak it in that reality as well.” His fingers hovered over the keyboard before he shot her a secretive wink. “Should I try it?”
“Lance, no-!”
“Whoops,” he deadpanned, no hint of regret as he typed out a short message and a grey bubble appeared on the screen.

“Hey man, you okay?”

When Sven finally came round, his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool; it was leaking out of his ears, his nose, and his mouth with each breath, and the world seemed to swim and swirl in darkness.
“Sven? Sven, are you back with us?”
That- that was Slav, standing beside the bed that he was on with all four pairs of arms folded.
“I’m here, Slav, I’m-”
A sharp pain suddenly shot through his chest, causing him to cry out and shoot upright. The cotton wool had tumbled out, but now each breath was ragged and increased the stabbing feeling. “Slav, what- what happened?”
The alien scurried over to a side table, retrieving a test tube of a glowing painkiller and handing it over. “You were shot saving one of the Paladins from the alternate reality,” he explained, urging Sven to drink the liquid, “I was worried for a second that we existed in the seven-point-three percent of realities where you do not survive the blast.”
Sven tipped his head back and drank the liquid; it was bitter over his tongue but the numbing effect was immediate. “Did him and his team get out okay?”
“Indeed,” Slav said, still not facing him but continuing to move around the room, “him and his team managed to take the comet back to their reality and out of the hands of the Alteans.” He stopped near another desk, letting his arms fall to his side. “Although it would have been nice to exist in the sixty percent of realities where we take the comet back to the Guns of Gamora base.”
Sven felt a sudden tightness in his chest, not one that usually came from the painkillers. “It’s a shame, he seemed like a nice person.”
Slav’s head snapped around, grabbing a green holopad off the desk. “There is still a chance that we live in the seventy percent of realities where you and the blue paladin become close friends, or the twelve-point-five percent where you two are-” he cut himself off quickly, causing Sven to glance over in confusion.
“Where we are what, Slav?”
The alien shook his head. “It does not matter.” He then passed over the holopad, Sven taking it in his hands gently. “I did however give the paladin one of these, and if my calculations are correct, the connection should be strong enough to transcend the gap between realities.”
“How is this possible?”
The alien motioned to the shard of comet, suspended in liquid on the desk. “Consider this an experiment.”

He’d never been so thankful for Slav in his life

There was one message on the screen, the layout similar to the Chatrooms of Earth before it was taken by the Alteans, with an English keyboard and grey bubbles with text. Surprisingly, there was already one message on screen:

“Hey man, you okay?”

“Slav, is this from him?” He asked, gesturing to the screen.
“I believe his name is Lance, as that is his name in thirty-three-point-three recurring percent of all realities,” Slav pointed out, “in others, he is either Jeremy, or-”
A pointed glare from Sven quickly silenced the Bytor.
“Sven? One last thing?”
“What is it?”
He didn’t look up from the holopad, but Slav carried on anyway. “Captain Akira and Commander Isamu want to know when you’ll be ready to return to the fight.”
“Give me a day or so,” Sven replied, beginning to type out an answer.

“I am feeling much better now. Was your journey back to your reality safe?”

He didn’t even notice the door slide shut, and the white noise of silence echoed in his ears. His head hit the pillow, and all faded to black.

Lance had just finished training when he found the softly glowing holopad again. It scared him at first; the door slid open to reveal his room bathed in a soft green light, and he was stunned that such a small device could create so much light.

“I am feeling much better now. Was your journey back to your reality safe?”

Sven had replied. Across realities.

He nearly dived across the room to reply, smashing his foot against the bed in the process. Once he had hobbled onto the bed, he tapped his fingers against the screen in reply.

“We got home safe, but we lost the comet :( I’m sorry Sven.”

He was prepared for another day or so wait, and had set the device aside when the screen lit up again.
“Did it get destroyed in the wormhole?”
“Some evil bastards took it from us the moment we arrived on the other side. We were set up.”
Typing the admission was almost as guilt-inducing as saying it out loud, particularly to the man who was prepared to sacrifice his life for it.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Lance. It sounds as if your reality is dealing with similar things to ours.”
Allura wasn’t expecting him on the bridge anytime soon, right?
“Depends, what kind of stuff are you dealing with?”
“The Alteans constantly try and take our liberated planets and resources, and we’re dealing with new stronghold attacks and breaches everyday. Sound familiar?”
“Replace Alteans with Galrans and you’re there.”

A knock at the door started him, the holopad clattering against the floor. “Lance? Are you in here?”
That was Hunk, ever attentive and caring. He couldn’t know about Sven, he’d probably report back to Allura, and Lance knew better an anyone how sceptical the princess was about outside communication.
The holopad was secured under his pillow, and the door slid open for Hunk to walk in and plop onto the bed. “You okay, dude?”
“Yeah man, of course I’m okay!”
Hunk didn’t seem swayed, instead twisting his face in some form of sadness. “You seemed really out of it today in training, it is to do with the lion thing?”
Lance wasn’t expecting that, pulling back in shock. “Dude, I’m over that, you know it.”
“Just because you’re over it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” He looped an arm around Lance’s shoulders and pulled him into his side. “We’re buddies, remember?”
“I couldn’t forget,” lance said with a chuckle, muffled by Hunk’s chest.
There was a shuffle as Hunk moved to stand, shoving his hands in his pockets and moving towards the door. “Oh, and Allura was looking for you. Something about a holopad?”

Oh shit.

Over the next couple of weeks, Sven learnt so much about Lance that he’d felt like he’d known the paladin for most of his life. He’d learnt that Lance was Cuban, and was the youngest child of a large family, along with the knowledge of every member of their Voltron, the extent of his Spanish-speaking capacities, and detailed recounts of many notable moments from his life in general. All in all, Lance was shaping up to be an incredibly interesting individual.
“Lieutenant Commander Sven, focus!”
Right, the command conference.
“I apologise Akira, could you repeat yourself?” He asked with a cock of his head, feigning as much sincerity as he could.
In response, Akira leant tiredly on the table, sighing before glaring at Sven across the table. “You’re distracted today Sven, what’s up?”
On his left, Isamu gave a low chuckle. “He’s busy thinking about his boyfriend from the alternate reality that he sacrificed his life for.”
Sven rolled his eyes. “Leave me alone Isamu, you know that isn’t true.
“Well there’s gotta’ be a reason you’re addicted to mine and Slav’s experimental communicator,” Hiroshi piped up on his right, lazily resting his head in his hands.
A cough from the head of the table broke them from their argument, belonging to a somewhat irritated Akira. “Whatever the problem is, Sven,” he said slowly, “you’re given this afternoon to sort it out. Dismissed.”
“But, Chief-”
Akira chuckled gently. “The Guns of Gamora can survive without you for a day. Go get rested, Holgersson.”

He had no choice but to leave the room, and fell into his bed the moment he was back in his dorm.
It was true, he had been distracted recently, but he didn’t think it had gotten in the way of his duties. If Lance was messing him up this badly, then maybe it would be for the best to hand the holopad back to Slav, tell him it was a success that he wanted no part of.
But what would Lance think?

He didn’t have time to dwell on the matter before a buzz announced the arrival of a new message. This one was different; a picture, indicating Lance had discovered how to use the camera function, of a young man looking strangely sheepish, with a scarily familiar face if it weren’t for the shock of white hair and nasty looking scar across the bridge of his nose.
“I forgot to say, we found our leader again!!!! :D”
Looking at the picture of who Sven assumed was the infamous Shiro, he saw why the other team got confused when they first saw him. “You were right, we do look similar. You’re forgiven for assuming we were the same person.”
“Yeah but we should’ve been able to tell, since he doesn’t have a cute accent like you do.”
What cute accent?- oh.
Oh no.

He was not allowing Isamu to be right, warm feeling in his chest be damned.
“What do you mean, ‘cute accent’?”
Now he’d really put his foot in it, but Lance’s response seemed carefree as ever.
“Well, you’re Scandinavian, right? Your accent was really nice, like, dude, ever considered doing audiobooks?”
The room had suddenly become incredibly warm. He wasn’t blushing, no way. Lieutenant Commander Sven Holgersson wasn’t going to be won over by a cute paladin from an alternate reality who seemed to be flirting with him over text.

Except for the fact he totally was, and oh god, he had exactly no idea how to deal with this.

“I can’t say as I have, no room for a cushy career with the Guns of Gamora I’m afraid.”
“On that topic, is that run by renegade Alteans? Because we have group called the Blade of Marmora that’s run by renegade Galrans.”

The conversation tumbled on from there, and once Lance finally wished him good night, the ship lights had clicked off and his clock told him it was the equivalent of the early morning. Maybe he’d ask for tomorrow morning off as well

The first time Sven called him was the middle of the night what he assumed was a few weeks after the comet incident. Lance was amazed he had talked to him this long, really; he was a freedom fighter, constantly telling Lance about how busy he was and how much stress he was under from being a rather high-up member of their rebellion, yet somehow, was always there in Lance’s downtime for a grounding conversation.

When he left his room, the castle lights were still low, giving him very little light to navigate the hallways with. It reminded him of his dream that night, one that had woken him up screaming in a cold sweat, but, now that he only was meandering through the castle wrapped in a blanket and clutching the holopad like a lifeline, he couldn’t remember for the life of him what it was about.
Eventually, he reached the top common room, and sunk into one of the chairs that lined the room; he found this place on accident, but the plush chairs and soft lighting meant it was his favourite place to go for late night strolls.
He sent out a quick, short reply to Sven, then closed his eyes. If he wasn’t going to sleep, he could at least try and get some rest.

A soft buzz forced his eyes to snap open again, and he picked up the holopad.
“Lance, what are you doing awake? I though this was in your usual night-cycle?”
“Yeah, it is. Can’t sleep. Nightmare.”
He hoped he didn’t come off as rude. Sven’s concern was touching, causing him to smile tenderly without even realising. His crush hadn’t quite gone away, if he was being honest, although flirting with someone over text was significantly harder than trying to face-to-face.
“Can you see a red circle near the top of the screen?”
“I see it.”
“Press it.”
Press the red button, huh?

Lance tapped it lightly, and the screen completely changed. It was dark, but he could make out a face, and hair, and-
On the screen, Sven laughed gently and pulled a hand through messy hair. “Good evening, Lance,” he greeted, “or should I say good morning? It’s pretty early, even for you.”
The lilt in his voice was stronger than Lance remembered it, and he sunk into the chair further with a soft smile. “Eh, you know how it gets with nightmares and the such.”
Sven nodded. “I understand, I get particularly bad ones myself.”
“But isn’t it night for you as well?”
“I have only just gotten to bed,” Sven replied with a shrug, moving a hand under his pillow, “I am much too awake to try and sleep at the moment, so your call is very helpful to both of us.”
Lance gasped in mock offence. “My call? You were the one who told me to do it!”
“Oh no, you foiled my plan to see your pretty face again! Whatever shall I do now?” Sven laughed again, louder this time, and Lance was pleasantly happy that the low light didn’t give away how much he was blushing.
“Yeah? Well, aliens have summoned Voltron just for a chance to see this face, so you better up your game, you, uh, moose.”
“A moose? That is a new one.” Sven was taunting him now, and the smirk on his face showed that he knew exactly what he was doing.
“Well, you get moose in Norway, right?” Lance floundered, shrugging noncommittally, but Sven’s loud, tinkling laugher on the line was more than worth it.
“Do you mean the Elg or actual Moose?”
“There’s a difference?”
“The Elg is your American moose, but our moose are very different to that,” he explained, but then paused for a second, a slightly more solemn look cast on his face, “I would love to take you one day and show you.”
“I’d like that as well, y'know?”
A smile returned to Sven’s face, increasing Lance’s in return. “If there is a ‘next time’ to your visit, I shall take you.”
“Well, we’re working on getting the comet-ship back,” Lance replied eagerly, “and the Princess said that I could visit you once it’s in our hands.”
“I shall begin to prepare now,” Sven said, shuffling onto his side and changing the angle of the camera, “I have a lot I’d like to show you.”

Lance thought, that maybe if he lay on his side as well, it almost be like sleeping next to him.
He decided not to act on that thought.

A yawn suddenly ripped from his throat.
“Oops, sounds like someone is getting tired now.”
“Shut up, Sven, you can’t talk,” Lance slurred in reply.
“But at least I’m willing to admit it.”
Lance huffed and settled back into the cushions of the chair. “Why are you always right?”
Sven chuckled, before turning back to the camera. “Go and get some sleep sharpshooter, you’ll thank me for it in the morning.”

He was asleep before he could even end the call.

“Sweet dreams, my Lance.”

“Lance, cover me!”
“On it!”
The ricochet of sniper fire echoed around the Galra post, and his gun smoked as shots smashed into the sentries preventing Keith access. He sent a thumbs-up, and drew his bayard once again, and Lance knew it was time to move on.
The comet-ship was in sights now, having docked there a Varga ago for Lotor to attend some important meeting with other Galran commanders. Lance, Keith, and Pidge were supposed to be sneakily commandeering it whilst Allura and Hunk circled overhead, distracting Lotor’s generals. Everything had gone tits up, however, when Pidge’s taser had accidentally tripped a security wire and drones flooded the room.
“Lance, get them off me, I’m close!”
He sniped a few robots off Pidge, and ran towards the giant ship. He was a few steps away from the cockpit when-

“Going somewhere?”

There was a sharp pain in his leg, and grey dots jumped in his eyesight. As he fell to the floor, a single shot rang out from the gun.
Several locks of platinum hair fell to the ground, bathed in a small pool of blood that had been growing there. Wait, that was his blood. Nice.

His vision focused enough to see Keith’s black sword cut the air in front of him, and for Lotor to stumble back, flipping the grip of his own rapier to parry Keith’s offence. The sniper felt heavy in his hands, and it clattered to the floor. It made a nice noise, Lance noticed, compared to the clash of alien metal in front of him.

The last thing he remembered was green armour looping around his shoulders and dragging him into an unfamiliar cockpit, and he woke up later to the more familiar cold feeling of falling out of a cryopod into Hunk’s arms and straight into bed.
The holopad was there on his bedside, ever present and glowing dimly.

“We stole the comet ship, so be prepared to show me Norway :) I’m on my way, Sven.”

As he slipped away into sleep, a set of co-ordinates appeared on the screen

“I can’t wait”

“Lance, are you sure it’s around here?”

They’d been flying through the empty space of the alternate reality for what felt like hours. Shiro, who had been suffering Cabin fever ever since the Black Lion had rejected him, volunteered to take him through the wormhole, and was finding it hard to locate the co-ordinates that Sven had sent.
“So, what kind of ship are we looking for?”
Lance thought for a moment. “I don’t know, it would probably be hidden. Kind of like the Blade of Marmora ships?”
Shiro sighed and hunched over the console, tapping a screen detailing their flight path.
“Wait, what’s that?”

Before them lay what looked like the wrecked remains of a silvery ship, debris from an explosion-shaped hole in the side floated in the Zero-G. The paint-job was blackened and burnt, and the few air locks that were still attached were mangled into unrecognisable shapes.
“Lance, are you sure-?”
“These were the co-ordinates. Sven wouldn’t lie.”
Lance reached down for his buckles and activated the suits helmet. “I’m going in.”
A hand wrapped around his arm, inhumanly strong. “Lance, don’t do this.”
“Why not?” He struggled against Shiro’s hold. “I need to find him, I need to, I need to-”
“Lance,” Shiro silenced him gently, “I’m sorry, I can’t let you go in there.”

Lance had never claimed to know what freezing, true cold like ice in his lungs, felt like. But this? This was pretty close.

“He, he was gonna’ show me Norway,” he blubbered, eyesight blurring as unwanted tears overflowed, “he was gonna’ show me the Elgs, and introduce me to him team - the Guns.”
“Lance, breathe-”
“Then I was gonna’ take him to Varadero and the beach, and, fuck Shiro, I told him about my parents-”
“Please, Lance, you need to stop-”
“He was- and I- I-”
“Lance.” Strong arms pulled him back onto his seat, and in the chest of the former paladin. He felt all his energy bleed out, sobbing until Shiro’s shirt was a mess and he had nothing left to give.
“I loved him, Shiro.” His breaths were ragged now, forceful and raw. “And I’m sure he loved me back.”
“I’m sure he did, Lance,” Shiro assured. He was too good for Lance, too good for the team, “but we should be getting home.”

They flew back without another word, the only sound in the cockpit being Lance’s sniffs.

The holopad now lies at the bottom of a large pile of Lance’s clothes, forgotten to most, if not all. It rarely illuminates now, only if it accidentally brushes against a sensitive piece of clothing.

It is almost at the end of it’s battery when it lights up for one final time, with a message never to be read.

“I’m sorry, Lance. I love you.”

Thanks for reading guys! It’s also on my AO3 (Link in my bio!) if y’all prefer that

trenonny  asked:

Just saw your follow up post about wanting prompts via ask so here ya go. :) Hitchhiker AU wherein either Derek or Stiles is hitchhiking but werewolves are still a thing. (Honestly though, I look forward to whatever you may find interesting enough to write about. Have fun writing!) <3

Hi guys, so sorry for the delay! I’ve been moving and having to deal with all the chaos that comes along with it! Things are finally starting to settle down, so I’m hoping to have more time to write in the coming weeks. Anywho, this one is not about hitchhiking because I misremembered the prompt, but it’s based on a story I read on a creepy AskReddit thread + fic idea @blacktofade​ and I talked about weeks ago. (Also broke the “less than 1000 words” rule; this one is 1568 words.)

Stiles is lost. He suspects it happened at that weird six-way intersection, when he should have taken the slight right instead of straight through, but that was miles back, and he’s gotten so turned around that he couldn’t find his way back even if he wanted to - which he does but can’t, because he’s so far out in the middle of nowhere that his phone can’t find a signal, and the ancient GPS he digs out of the back sternly tells him that its maps are more than five years out of date and refuses to let him use it until he updates it.

So he’s well and truly lost. He just keeps driving, because he’s at least got most of a tank of gas left, and the roads are in pretty good condition, so he’s gotta hit a town sometime. The sun is beginning to set, but even if he has to sleep in his car overnight, he’s not worried - he’s got snacks, and a jug of water.

It’s only when he begins to wind his way up a mountain that he begins to feel a little anxious. No one would have taken the time to carve a road up the side of a mountain if there wasn’t something worthwhile on the other side, he tells himself. This isn’t some dirt track; there are guard rails on the sharp curves, and the lines look recently painted. Still, he doesn’t see a single car on the way up, and there’s hardly any shoulder - the trees press close to the edge of the road, forming dark arches overhead. It’s a lot darker with the forest around him, red light from the setting sun filtering through the branches.

It feels like hours before Stiles crests the mountain and begins heading back down the other side, but he’s flooded with relief at the sight of lights twinkling in the valley below - sweet civilization. Now he relaxes as he drives, safe in the knowledge that he’ll be able to figure out where he is soon, maybe get a call in to his dad before he starts worrying about not having heard from him. Stiles’ dad wasn’t entirely happy with Stiles’ brilliant idea of driving across the country to come home for his summer break, but everything considered, it’s been a smooth trip so far. This isn’t the first time he’s gotten lost on this trip, although it’s certainly the longest he’s been off-course, but hey, the end’s in sight - even with this detour, he should be home by tomorrow night at the latest.

Keep reading

Exciting Things Ahead

So guess who finally got an AO3 (Archive of Our Own) account? That’s right, this trash can did! Anywho just a little update that I plan on extending my Blind Lance AU and making it into a full fic, so wish me luck! I hope you like it! Also, my account is watsonthebox (shocking, I know). I will update you all when I’ve posted. Thank you for all the love and support!!!  °˖ ✧◝(○ ヮ ○)◜✧˖ °

Terminal Love

Summary: You accidentally run into a stranger at the airport and he turns out to be wonderful company. Not just wonderful company – he’s your soulmate, this lovely Park Chanyeol. The universe has matched you two together, and you’re more than happy to go along with it. But what happens when your soulmate believes someone else is his soulmate?

Pairing: Chanyeol x You

Genre: Soulmate AU, humor, fluff, smol angst

Rating: PG-13 (language)

Word Count: 1510

[Mini Masterlist]


Your inner monologue is one long stream of cursing as you hurry down the terminal towards your gate which is worryingly empty. The passengers have already boarded the plane and it’s going to take off any minute now – without you on it.

Everything had been going wrong today, from your Uber getting a punctured tire to the TSA confiscating your expensive shampoo to the blisters forming on your feet from your flats as you run to catch your flight. Your boss always does this, spring last-minute meetings on you that you have to fly to, and you’re seriously considering either quitting or demanding compensation for the hypertension meds you’re going to have to invest in now. Does your insurance cover that?

And just as you’re thinking of your boss, your phone rings from deep within your purse. You can’t even ignore the call because it might be him. Fucking shit.

Without slowing down, you rifle through your bag – past lipstick tubes, gum, pens, half a first-aid kit, an overstuffed wallet – until your fingers close around the cool metal of your cell phone, and you tug it free, about to answer when—

Thud. Something large body checks you from out of nowhere, and you’re knocked to the ground in a blur of flailing limbs, your phone flying out of your hands. Whoomp. The dirty ground is suddenly pressed against you, the breath is knocked out of you, and before you can even process what happened, wide brown eyes are in your face.

“Oh god, are you okay?” a deep voice, so deep you can feel the vibrations in your bones, frets. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t even see you!” Then you’re being peeled off the floor and onto your feet, and you find yourself at eye level with a man’s chest. God, this guy is tall – but besides your exacerbated stress from being essentially bulldozed, you’re not concerned with him. No, what matters most to you right now is –

Keep reading

I don’t thing I deserve it.. Part 1

Characters: Teen!Reader, Sam, Dean

Warnings: Needles, Injuries

Word count: 1996

Summary: You’ve been a slave for almost 4 years now to a demon named Clarke. When you luckily escape you run, literally, into the winchesters and they take you in and take care of you. They help you overcome your fear for basically everything and you become like a little sister to them.
What will happened when you want to start to hunting down Clarke for revenge? What happens if she catches you first?

A/N: I orginally posted this on ao3 and it’s my first fanfic ever so i wanted to share it with y’all. This will be a series with multiple parts with no smut whatsoever.. Happy reading! (Oh and if you wanna be tagged just send an ask <3)

Part 2

Originally posted by hunterchesters

You ran as fast as you could, not stopping for a minute. It felt like your heart was going to pump out of your chest and all you heard was the loud sound of your heart pounding in your ears. Your lungs hurt from all the running and you were struggling to breathe. The thing behind you was closing up and you felt the panic rise within every second. You rounded a corner as you looked back to find the thing gone and your breath hitched.

You didn’t see where you were running so when you ran into something you fell on my butt, hard. A whimper left your mouth and with panicked eyes you looked up to see that you had just ran into a man. He was really tall and muscular and his shoulder-long hair fell in his face when he looked down at you in surprise. His hazel colored eyes looked at you and you stumbled away instantly.

“Hey, shit, you okay?” the man asks. His voice was deep, but still comforting in a way you didn’t understand. When you didn’t answer he took a step forward and bent down a little but as he did that you let out a shaking breath and backed away. “I’m not gonna hurt you kid” he said and held his hands over his head. You made a frowning face and tried to stand up with your eyes fixed on him in case he would attack you.

As you try to stand up you put your weight into your left leg and a cry leave your lips as you fall down again. Instantly the man was right beside you and you stopped breathing. He bent down and reached for you. You tried to crawl away in fear but the pain in your leg just escalated. “I’m gonna pick you up, okay?" 

He didn’t wait for an answer as he put an arm under your legs and the other one under your back and lifted you up bridal style. As he rose up you shut your eyes and bit your lip as to not scream out the pain. You tasted the familiar taste of blood in your mouth.

You jumped as the man who carried you screamed. "Dean! Come quick, i found someone!” His long legs made him walk a lot faster and you were thankful for not having him running. You didn’t hear the footsteps in front of you and you inhaled sharply as another voice came to your hearing. “Who’s this? What happened?” The voice of this person, Dean, was much deeper than the other man and he sounded a little older. It was definitely another man and you couldn’t help the fear creep up on you. 

You shivered in the man’s arms and he tightened his grip. “I don’t know, she ran into me. Something happened to her leg and I’m pretty sure she hit her head or something before, because she’s bleeding.” You shut your eyes even tighter as you felt a hand on your upper arm.

“Hey kiddo, can you tell us what happened?” Dean said, directing his question to you. You didn’t answer, too afraid of what might happened if you answered wrong to his question. “Do you have a name?” the man who held you squeezed you a little. You didn’t know if it were for comfort or threatening, but you shook your head lightly and regretted it the second you moved your head. 

A sharp sting from the back to your head took you by surprise and you cried out. Tears ran now freely from your closed eyes down your cheeks. “We gotta stitch her up. Take her to the bunker and I’ll try to call Cas”

The man carrying you began walking again and you felt the rumble in his chest that he was talking to you but all you could focus on was the pain. Sooner or later he stopped and he opened a car door. “Hey, I’m gonna put you in the car, and It’ll probably hurt, but you can’t pass out on me, okay?” He lowered you from his grip and into the car. 

As soon as you body hit the seat you took a deep breath, trying to calm down. It helped a little and you were now half sitting, half laying down in the seat. You opened your eyes a little and you saw the man going around the car to take the seat with the wheel. You were sitting shotgun. When he opened his door you looked at him with tired eyes. “Don’t close your eyes” His voice became shallower as he kept trying to talk to you but you’ve already given up and you were slowly sinking into the darkness.


You were in the state between awake and asleep and you didn’t really have control over your body. The sound of a car driving fast was comforting. You began to wake up now and that was something you really didn’t want because the pain was still there. You groaned a little and tried to move but you ended up feeling worse than before. Wait, where were you? Your eyes shot up with fear and your body tensed. 

You looked around with panic in your eyes until you saw the man beside you. The Running. The two men. Your injuries. Everything came back to you. You didn’t realize you made a noise but suddenly a pair of eyes were on you. “Hey, hey, hey, calm down.” He put up his right hand in the air and kept the left one on the steering wheel. As he moved his hand towards you, you flinched away and he took away his hand.

“How are you holding up? We’re at the bunker in about 15 minutes and then I’ll take care of your leg and head, okay?” You wanted to ask what this bunker was, but you kept quiet. You began to shake and you couldn’t feel your toes and fingers. “You’re freezing because of the blood loss, I’d give you a blanket, but I don’t have one, sorry" 

The car went faster for a second and soon enough you were at this odd looking iron door. He parked the car and instantly got out. The door opened beside you and he ducked under the roof of the car to hover over you to pick you up. This made you panic and you tried to get away. He got his arm under got legs and the other one under your back as before, and lifted you out. Your body was tense and the pain was too much for you. "You gotta relax, I’m here to help” He mumbled as he walked to the door.

As he went down the stairs you shut your eyes again in pain. Once you were down he almost started to run and when you felt a comfortable sheet under yourself you opened your eyes. You’re in a bed? The man started to fumble around in boxes and he came forward with a first aid kit. He ran out of the room and came back with a bottle of something. “I’m gonna stitch you up and I’m not gonna lie, it’ll hurt” he took a scissor and qut your pants off of your left leg. 

The cold air that hit your leg gave you goose bumps but you didn’t have time think about it anymore as a liquid hit the contrast of the injury on your leg and it burned like fire. You screamed as tears welled in you eyes. “I’m so sorry, but it has to be done” said the man whith a slight panicked voice. 

He picked up a needle and a thread and you instantly started to breathe funny. “N-no, no, no” you sobbed as you tried to get away. Apparently you shock him with speaking, but you were not gonna let him use that on you. He stared at you for a few seconds before speaking “This needs to be stitched up if you don’t want to die” He looked at you with apologetic eyes as he returned his attention to the needle. “Please d-don’t” you whispered.

The door slammed open and you jumped. The other man, Dean walked in and his eyes wandered to the gasch in your leg. “Need some help Sam?” He said, his eyes never leaving your leg as he spoke. You guessed it was pretty bad. 

Sam closed his eyes and sighed as he said “Hold her” You shock your head in protest. As Dean came forward you began pulling away as you sobbed “N-no, please, d-don’t” your head hit the headboard and you panicked. Dean were now standing next to the bed on the opposite side of Sam.

He grabbed your ankles and carefully tried to drag you down so that you were lying down but you screamed and desperately tried to get away. You tried to hit him but he caught your wrist and putted it over your head. “Calm down! You need to calm down so that Sammy here can stitch you up and everything will be fine" 

You tried to get away from Sam now when you had realised that Dean weren’t letting you go. You scooted over to Dean’s side and Sam looked at you. "It’s okay. You’re scared of needles right? It’s gonna go fast and smoothly if you just calm down” He looked at you in your eyes while speaking. “Yeah, Sam here is really good at it, it’s okay” Dean said. You locked eyes with Sam and he smiled a little and you calmed down a bit.

Dean scooted you over to Sam and you began shaking. Dean took both of your hands and put them on your stomach as he laid his arm over them. The other hand pressed down a little on your left leg to keep it still. In this way you wouldn’t be able to move as much. “Deep breaths, It’s gonna be fine” Sam said. You shut your eyes and as you felt the needle go into your skin you held your breath. It hurt so much and feeling the needle under your skin made it worse. 

After about 2 minutes Dean noticed that you still held your breath and he looked over to your face. “You have to breathe or you’ll pass out” When you didn’t respond he removed his hand on your leg and loosened the arm on your stomach, but not completely moving it away. “Hey, you need to breathe, it’s going good” He put his hand on your cheek and you inhaled sharply. You let out a shaky breath after that and Dean kept talking to you about breathing.

“All done” Sam said, and he moved to the first aid kit to get a bandage to wrap your leg in. As he wrapped it around your leg Dean moved away completely from you. “We have to check your head too, okay?” You nodded a little as you turn to the side, with your face to Dean. He kneeled down and looked over at Sam with an expression you haven’t seen before. 

You flinched a little as Sam started to run his fingers gently over your head as he kept asking you where it hurt. You tensed a little when he moved his fingers over a little bulge. “You don’t need any stitches but you might have a concussion, and we need to get it clean from all of this blood too”

Dean nodded, even tho it was meant for you, and he rose up and walked up to the closet and pulled out a towel. He then went out of sight, but your heard water running. Dean came back with the wet towel and gave it to Sam. Sam cleaned you up and you were losing yourself to sleep. Your eyes were heavy and your breathing evened out. Less than a minute later you were asleep.

crimson-chains  asked:




The deliveryman stepped back inside the pizza shop and stood there, blank, perhaps trembling. What was happening? Was he trapped inside his own personal hell? Pizza delivery hell…

“Hey, you okay man?” His boss called over, casting a concerned look across the pizzeria.

Slowly, hesitantly, sluggishly, the deliveryman shook his head. “T-the…. the mafia boss…. is a pornstar…. And I think he was flirting with me.”

His boss gave a deep sigh and slapped pizza dough onto the counter. “Look, I told you, you’re not getting that holiday! What do you think this is, a multi-verse?! Get back to work! That cop ordered another Hawaiian, extra pineapple, get on it!”

Monday: Coffee Shop AU

2017 Sterek Coffee Shop AUs

★=Fics that could use more kudos, comments, and appreciation.


Celestial Navigation by @alocalband (1/1 | 12,492 | Mature)

A year after the death of his sister, while struggling with social anxiety and writer’s block, Derek decides to start over somewhere new.


Soft Derek, Warm Stiles, No One is a Little Ball of Fur by @tiedtogetherwithadagger (1/1 | 3,639 | Gen.)

Stiles is wiping down the counters and humming California Gurls to himself when the bell above the door chimes and Derek walks in. The next notes of the song get stuck in his throat and he freezes. Stiles shouldn’t be surprised, really. The rest of the pack have already been by to visit him, even Jackson. Of course, Scott was the only person Stiles ended up giving a free drink to, much to their disappointment.

Derek swaggers up to the counter Stiles is stationed behind, because that’s the only way Derek apparently knows how to walk. He’s wearing a maroon knitted sweater today that looks unfairly cozy. Stiles slaps his own hand down from reaching out and touching the fabric because that would be weird. Although slapping yourself might be weirder. Oh well.

Awkwarddd but so cute!: 

★today could have been worse by tash_xo (1/1 | 1,138 | Teen)

Stiles is having a bad day. Super bad. He broke his alarm, was late to work, and managed to have coffee spilled on him twice in one day. To make matters worse, the handsome guy who play lacrosse with his best friend happens to watch it happen the second time. Why can’t Stiles catch a break?


★dat ass by PrincezzShell101 (1/1 | 490 | Gen.)

Stiles is standing in the annoyingly ever-so-slow line at the coffee shop when a literal Greek Adonis walks in and takes the spot in line directly behind him. Stiles lets out a quiet, strangled sound when Hello-My-Name-Is-Sex-God nods at him in silent acknowledgement. He ends up spinning back around on his heels to face the person in front of him, breathing intensely.

Remain calm, he tells himself. It’s not like he’s standing right behind you. Not at all. Nope.

Sweet, sweet, sweet:

Oops by Little Spoon / @always-the-little-spoon (1/1 | 2,852 | Teen)

Derek was the one that brought Stiles dinner when he knew Stiles had forgotten, and Derek was the one that massaged Stiles’ feet when he was stressed. When they watched a movie, Stiles snuggled up against him, and Stiles trusted Derek enough to fall asleep on his shoulder. When Stiles woke up in the middle of the night screaming, Derek was the one that held until he fell back asleep, and in return, Stiles would help him count his fingers when Derek wasn’t sure if he was awake.

Derek and Stiles were just friends. Oops?

Left me with the biggest smile: 

★Won’t You Macchiato My Day? by laughing_unintentionally (1/1 | 984 | Gen.)

Derek writes his best work inside of coffee shops, and he just found his new muse.


The One With the Food Thing by mikkimouse / @mad-madam-m (1/1 | 574 | Gen.)

Someone shook his shoulder. “Hey, man, you okay?”

Derek jerked his head up to see Sexy Barista–better known as Stiles–standing next to him and looking adorably concerned.

The Four Times Spider-Man Wore His Mask, and the One Time He Didn’t // Part 2/4

Part One / Part Three / Part Four

Summary: After a chance encounter, you start to see the fabled “Spider-Man” everywhere.

A/N: Part twooooo. I hope you lot enjoy, let me know if you are and the next parts (which honestly do get better) will be up soon.

Warnings: Light swearing. Honestly just full of fluff. Spider-Man x Reader.

It was hard not to think about the Spider-Man after that. And yes, that was his “official” name, according to the weird side of the internet where people spent day in and day out analyzing the kid’s every move, trying to figure out who he was.

Keep reading