i butchered it completely and then tried to get it back to normal

"You could've chosen me..."

Pairing: Bellamy x Kane Daughter!Reader 

Summary: (Y/N) Kane has been in a relationship with Bellamy Blake since the dropship landed on Earth. However with Bellamy’s choice to align himself with Pike, their relationship becomes strained. (Y/N) must decide what to do. Especially when her dad gets sentenced to death because of treason.

Based on 3x08

A/N: this is my very first attempt at writing something like this so i apologize if i completely butchered it. But in the slight chance that you enjoyed it, please like and maybe reblog? Thanks xx

Tensions were rising all around Arkadia as Chancellor Pike and his guard dogs started to discovered who was working against him. With Octavia going radio silence, we had no contact outside the wall. But per usual, my dad had a plan. The Grounders wanted Pike’s head and the few of us were willing to help them get it. All we had to do was perfectly execute the plan. 

Sinclair was first. He would pretend to work on Rover 1, drawing the attention of the guards. If everything goes well, Sinclair will be placed in lock up where he can tell Lincoln the plan to start a riot. Next came my dad, Kane would ask to set up a meeting with Pike. In doing so, he’ll be able to kidnap Pike. To do so however, comes in the lock up riot. Miller and Harper would act normally as guards until Lincoln and Sinclair are able to trick Bellamy into opening the lock up cage, starting the riot. Then Miller and Harper would fight along side Sinclair and the other Grounders to distract all the available guards with Pike. Once Pike is alone with my dad, Kane will electrocute him and load him into Rover 1 for the Grounders. Now comes me. My job is to distract Monty to make sure he doesn’t receive any intel that will give up our plan. However, that’s when everything went to shit.

I was on my way to Monty when two guards approached me.

Kane, what’re you doing in these quarters?” asked the slightly taller guard.

Can’t a girl just take a walk without being questioned?” I tried to walk past them but they grabbed my arms.

Not when your dad is leading the opposition against Chancellor Pike” retorted the other guard. The guards started dragging me away and that’s how i ended up locked in a room with those two idiots guarding the outside.

I sat there for what felt like hours thinking. My mind drifted to Bellamy. By fate, destiny, or whatever you want to call it, I fell in love with Bellamy Blake. From the moment the dropship landed on Earth, we had something special. However, lately things have been different. We argued almost daily because of his decision to align himself with Pike. I knew deep down he didn’t agree with Pike’s actions yet for some reason, he was being too strong headed to admit he was wrong. I honestly don’t know how much longer i can put up with it. I feel completely split between the love of my life, Bellamy, and the first man i ever loved, my father. However, my thoughts were interrupted by the door unlocking and a figure walking it.

I looked up and recognized the tall figure as Bellamy. 

Did you know about it?” he asked as he walked closer to the table where I sat.

Did i know about what?

Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. Please (Y/N). Just tell the truth. Did you know about the plan to kidnap Pike and turn him over to the Grounders?” I looked down. I knew this would turn into an argument one way or another and i really wanted to avoid it.

You know, it didn’t work.” he added.

Well obviously” i muttered back under my breath.

“Your father was caught. Pike charged him with treason.

This caught my attention. I looked up at Bellamy and saw distress written all over his face. His mistake, however, was avoiding my eyes.

What aren’t you telling me?” i asked quietly, scared to hear the answer to the question.

Pike sentenced your dad to death… (Y/N), im so sorry. I never thought it would come down to us killing our own people.

I snapped my head up and looked at him. Why was he apologizing? He was in the riot at lock up. 

Who was it? Who was the guard that stopped my dad from driving out of those gates to finally achieve real peace with the Grounders?” i asked, anger and hurt prominently laced in my voice. 

(Y/N)…” Bellamy said as he looked away from me.

I’ll ask again. Who was it? Who’s fault is it that i’m going to lose my dad?

It was me. I stopped him. But (Y/N) i swear to you, i didn’t think…

At this point i stopped listening. I was numb. I couldn’t even begin to comprehend the emotions coursing through my body. My dad, the only family member i had left, was being sentenced to death because of Bellamy. i could hear Bellamy still talking but his words were going in one ear and out the other. Soon, i couldn’t stop my body from being overcome with sobs as my mind finally wrapped itself around the fact that I might never get to see my dad again. However, i was drawn out of this state when Bellamy came over and laid his hand on my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me. My sadness was now replaced with anger as i quickly stood up.

Don’t touch me” i growled at him. Hurt flashed through Bellamy’s eyes. 

(Y/N) you have to believe me. i didn’t think it would ever go this far. I just thought we could rid ourselves of the Grounder threat. If your dad would’ve-

If my dad would’ve what?” my voice was dangerously low at this point and i could tell Bellamy knew he was threading on thin ice.

I didn’t mean it that way. I just… i dont know, okay? Is that what you wnat to hear? I made a mistake. It all happened so fast and there was nothing I could do.

You could’ve chosen the right side, Bellamy. You could’ve chosen me and Octavia and Clarke. You could’ve chosen The 100 kids who were forced to come down to Earth.

What do you want from me (Y/N)? Please just tell me and i’ll do it.” Bellamy pleaded.

I want you to leave. I want you to walk out that door and never come back. I want you to think about the fact that because of you, my dad is going to die

i couldn’t tell if what i was saying was what i truly wanted but in this moment, it seemed right. I had to stand by my dad and do what’s right. And if that meant leaving Bellamy, then so be it. Bellamy stood there and looked at me for a minute before he sighed and walked towards the door.

Is this what you really want?” he asked, looking back at me one more time. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t trust myself right now. He took my silence as an answer. 

May we meet again…” he whispered as he walked through the door.

Crying, i slid down the wall i was bracing myself on and curled my knees to my chest. I had just lost my dad and my boyfriend in the matter of a day.

Originally posted by chatnoirs-baton

Logged in - Part 2

Originally posted by out-in-the-open

Dean x Reader: Sam tells Dean and the reader about a new online community for hunters and they both scoff at him, but secretly use it and end up drawn to each other.

Word Count: 3271

Triggers: None really

Y/N = Your name  Y/E/C = Your eye colour  Y/H/C = Your hair colour

Note: This was only supposed to be a two parter… But now it looks like there’ll be a third part. Wanted to try out a different format of writing. Let me know what you think! 

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Days turned to weeks and weeks turned to one month, then two, as you spent most of your evenings and nights when in the bunker talking to J.T. The conversation going from flirty, to serious, to weird and then back to flirty again fast enough to give anyone a whiplash. The flirting, among other things, only upped as time passed. With both J.T and you having equally sharp wits and dirty minds, your conversations were always interesting. If not always PG.

Somehow you never had to wait long when you logged in and he wasn’t online. It was almost as if he could sense you waiting. Though hell, you’d never admit that you were waiting. Even if you weren’t using the page for much except speaking to J.T anymore.  

And as you dropped, not all that gracefully, down on your bed after another long day of research J.T once more proved to you that he could somehow read your mind through the many layers of internet that separated you. Coming online mere minutes after you logged in and started browsing the news bulletin. The little notification popping up on your IM window easily pulling your attention away from a case you knew Bobby had a man on as you unsuccessfully tried not to smile at the idea of spending another lazy evening chatting with your online stranger.

JustTryingItOut: Ok… I’m genuinely starting to think you’re always on here Cherry. Are you sure you’re not some old man in a basement just listening to Warrant on repeat?

You chuckled at the “concern” that you had both thrown back and forth at each other time and time again. Hell, it had almost become your standard greeting, slipping from the fingers of whomever logged in last as easily as the more common “Hi” did for others. A smile easily formed on your lips as you typed your reply.

Keep reading

Busqué para tú (I searched for you)

“Calvin?” You asked from under the 7,000 blankets you were under.
No reply.
But then again, you were so sick you could barely talk, and when you did, a sandpapery sound was what you sounded like.
You say up, and immediately you felt yourself go lightheaded for a second, the you felt normal, well as normal as you could be at this time.
You looked around the dark room and sighed. You couldn’t see much, and your vision was kind of blurry.
You felt a sudden burst of cold flow within you, and your whole being felt like ice.
“Cal?” You called weakly again.
But again, nothing. He couldn’t hear your sickly soft voice from where he was in the other room, editing a video.
You sighed and shifted so that your legs were on the floor but you still sat on the bed.
You then stood up, and a felt a rush in your head, and you were dizzy for a minute.
When you adjusted to this new position, you started to walk very slowly to the door of the room.
You were shaking badly by the time you reached the door, and it only became worse as you staggered, most likely looking drunk, down to Cal’s editing and recording room.
The door was closed, and you reached out your arm to open it, but you were shaking so badly it took a minute to actually close your hand around it turn the knob.
You opened the door slowly, and saw Cal sitting on his chair, editing a video. He had his headphones on and you could hear bits and pieces of the music.
You walked over to him slowly and put a hand on his shoulder.
He took off his headset and smiled at you, but he then frowned.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” He asked.
“I’m…cold.” You answered in the less shaky voice you could muster.
“You are now? I’m not surprised, it’s cold in here,” he laughed, though you could see the worry in his eyes.
“I feel like ice,” you said.
He knew you were sick, and it didn’t surprise him. You always were needy when you were sick.
“Want me to come lay with you?” He asked quietly.
You nodded, and he stood, put an arm around your back, and walked you slowly back to your shared bedroom.
You laid back down in the bed and he got in next to you, cuddling you from behind.
He shifted and pulled all the blankets back on the both of you.
You snuggled closer to his warm body, and he rubbed your back slowly, and mumbled sweet nothings to you.
You fell asleep in minutes.
Calvin slowly pulled his phone from his back pocket, and pulled up Twitter.

‘No video tonight. Gf is sick and she needs me right now,’ he tweeted, and the support came instantly, and he smiled.
He actually looked at the clock, and it read 3:30am. It was kind of late. He wasn’t tired, so he opened up snapchat and starred to open uo messages from fans, and they were all cute little, 'Your the best!’ Or 'Hissss,’ like they usually were.
Cal took a picture of the dark room and captioned it, 'My girlfriend is sick and she got up to come get me because she was cold. But you still gotta love her :)’
He put the picture on his story and closed the app.
It was about 4:15 now, and he felt you shift, and he feared he woke you somehow.
But your eyes stayed shut and you sighed in you sleep.
He laughed silently and opened Twitter back up.
His tweet had gotten so many 'get well’ replies and he smiled, glad the fanbase loved you as much as he did.
You sighed in your sleep again, and cuddled yourself subconsciously closer to him, but then something peculiar happened.
Your started to talk, but not in English, in Spanish. Cal laughed quietly and opened up his camera and recorded what you were saying.
“¿Calvin? ¿Calvin? ¿Dónde estás amor? No puedo verte y tengo miedo! Sé que estás ahí, así que me siento mejor. Te amo Calvin, te amo.”
You stopped talking then, and sighed.
Cal didn’t know all of what you said, so he tweeted the video and asked someone to tell him, since he didn’t know Spanish.
The first reply was a translation:
“Calvin? Clavin? Where are you love? I can’t see you and I am scared! I know you are there, and I feel better. I love you Calvin, I love you.”
Cal smiled and then saw the second reply, saying to say:
'Busqué para tú, querida. Yo también te amo.’ It means, 'I searched for you, my dear. I love you too.’
Calvin tried his best to say the words, knowing fully that he butchered them completely.
But he felt you sigh and turn in your sleep so that you faced his chest. You nuzzled you face into him and said quietly, “I love you too Calvin.”
Cal put his phone on the bedside table and cuddled with you until he fell asleep a few minutes later.

[Hope you liked this lil thing :) I’m sick right now and this is honestly what I would lovee to happen.]

You Me Her

1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 || 11 || 12 || 13 || 14 || 15 ||

Chapter Sixteen: Prom 

Word Count: 6,375

↠ ♥ ↞

After Riley’s conversation with Lucas at the rooftop party, the brunette is left with a confusing empty feeling. She knew this all had to end but just how that was going to happen she had no clue. 

Riley decides to confide in Kai. She begins sharing how she might be crushing on CJ. Excitedly, Kai supports this possible development. Riley anxiously frets sharing the rest of her woes but manages to tell Kai that she’s even more confused about Lucas stepping back and honestly a little upset by it.

“Lucas is an idiot.” Kai rolls his eyes. 

“Kai,” Riley frowns thinking this was going to turn into another ‘Wonder Boy’ rant. 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Kai shakes his head. “Well- I do think he’s an idiot but right now I think he’s stupid for stepping back.” 

“Are you feeling okay?” Riley gives her best friend a dubious gaze. 

“I don’t have to like Lucas to admit that bowing out of the fight for you is stupid.” Kai shrugs a shoulder nonchalantly. 

“I can’t be fought over.” Riley folds her arms. 

“I know.” Kai nods. “But not fighting for you, not even a little. That’s idiotic.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

"We're in this haunted house tour and this smol stranger started holding my hand. I was going to complain but she's pretty, looks scared and holding hands doesn't hurt right?"

not to pick favorites, but this honestly might be my favorite one. thanks for this, nonny! 

also, side bar, ya girl is supposed to have internet back by Wednesday!! Thanks everyone for keeping me entertained during these desprate times. I love you all, I really do!

the set up

“You owe me.”

“Shut up, they’re coming.”


It’s not like Bellamy tries to be the kind of guy that keeps track of his favors. He usually does them because he enjoys being a good friend and honestly, it isn’t a big deal. He doesn’t want people to think they can’t come to him when they need something. But this is a special case. A very special case and he is definitely marking this down as a favor that requires repayment.

Haunted Houses are cool, in theory. Paying some money to see scary stuff because adrenaline is fun and there is nothing quite like getting a rush after facing your fears. Except he doesn’t find them scary. Haunted houses are corny, with poor costumes and stupid scare tactics. Everyone he’s ever been too has had the same setup – one Michael Meyers character, at least one clown (and he suspects that this year, that number will go up thanks to It), and some guy chasing you around with a chainsaw. Predictable and cheesy and not worth his money. And yet Miller insists that this is different.

“It’s a corn maze,” he had pitched the idea yesterday, “It’ll be way cooler.”


“Dude,” he’s never heard Miller plead before but it’s pretty satisfying to see his friend practically on his knees, begging, “Monty is bringing some of his friends and I don’t want him to think I don’t have any.”

“You all met in an online gaming match,” Bellamy pointed out, “He probably already knows that.”


And that’s how he ended up here, outside of a Haunted Maze doing his best friend a favor. He’s not sure what making a corn field into a haunted house is supposed to add. Maybe some weird creepy element because it’s outside in the middle of nowhere. He’s mostly bitter because his cell isn’t picking up service and he had been in the process of setting up a hook up via Tinder (look, he’s a very busy Grad student and doesn’t have time to hit bars to do things the normal way).

He watches as two people approach, one he recognizes as Miller’s new…boyfriend? Date? He isn’t entirely sure, though he supposes that if they had made things official, Miller wouldn’t have asked him to tag along. He’s never seen his friend this nervous before. When he talks about Monty, his cheeks get all red and he starts to stutter. It’s actually pretty cute especially since Miller tries to be all broody and sarcastic all the time. Really, he’s just as soft as the rest of them.

The second person he doesn’t recognize. She’s a petite blonde, almost a head shorter than him with long golden curls and a scarf currently wrapped around her neck like she might freeze to death without it. It’s at least fifty degrees – definitely jacket weather but the scarf seems a bit excessive.

“Hey,” Monty greets as they approach and Bellamy cant’s help but grin when Miller leans in to give him a kiss. He really wants to document this moment, he’s never seen Miller smitten before, but doesn’t want to give the wrong impression to Monty.

“Monty, this is Bellamy,” Miller extends an arm towards him, “My asshole roommate.”

“And best friend in the whole world,” Bellamy adds, offering his hand. Monty shakes it enthusiastically.

“Nice to meet you,” he smiles and then turns to his companion, “This is Clarke. My roommate.”

Miller laughs, “Wait, roommate? Don’t you live in the dorms?”

Clarke pulls the scarf down from her mouth, and he can’t help but think of how dramatic it seems to be, “They thought I was guy when they placed me. Apparently, they don’t understand the concept of gender neutral names.”

Bellamy smiles at that.

“Nice to meet you,” Miller says politely and Bellamy nods in agreement, “We ready to head in?”

Clarke’s eyes narrow in confusion, “Wait, where are the others.”

If he had blinked, he would have missed it. Miller and Monty exchange a quick look, though, unreadable. Vaguely suspicious.

“Jasper couldn’t make it and Raven had to work,” Monty says quickly. He tries to lock eyes with her but didn’t seem to notice like he did. She just shrugs and begins walking towards the entrance. He tries to fall into step with her to give Miller a small amount of privacy.

“You realize it’s fall and not the dead of winter, right?” he starts as they stand in line. She looks up at him and her eyes catch the light. They’re an intense shade of blue. Pretty, even.

“I was cold,” she says defensively, though she begins to unwind the thick scarf from her neck. She unzips the jacket she’s wearing as well, revealing a blue v-neck underneath. He doesn’t mean to look down, but it’s very hard not to notice. She has a great chest.

“Wow, we just met,” she says and he looks up quickly, clearing his throat in embarrassment. She laughs at his discomfort, “It’s fine. They do look nice tonight.”

“Uh, yeah,” he replies stupidly. He decides that he likes her. She’s blunt and doesn’t seem fazed by his apparently lack of manners.

“So, what are you going to school for?” he changes the subject. It’s a safe subject and he manages to keep his eyes firmly away from her chest. Fucking dick.

The line moves fairly quickly and it doesn’t take long for them to reach the entrance. They hand over their tickets and move in, their group consisting of just the four of them. He sneaks a glance back at his friend, who has a smile glued to his face and seems to be completely unaware of his surroundings. Maybe this is worth it.

“Wait,” Clarke says as the doors close behind them and the maze stretches out before them, “Is this everyone we go with?”

He detects a hint of fear in her voice and when his eyes connects with her, he sees it plain as day.

“You nervous?” he grins at her.

“No,” her voice comes out a bit high pitch, indicating that she’s definitely nervous, “Just…maybe they should go first?”

He looks back at the couple behind them and shakes his head, “Nah, the people at the end of the line always die first.”

“Gee, thanks,” she mumbles and pulls her arms around herself. They walk forward and the maze is strangely quiet, as expected. He’s positive that someone will jump out at them in the next ten seconds. When they turn the first corner, he’s right. Michael Meyers greets them at the edge and holds up his butcher knife.

He scoffs, “Predicatable.”

He doesn’t really move, just holds up the knife and stares them down. Clarke doesn’t seem too affected by it, though the guy decides to get uncomfortably close to her face when she passes by and it causes her to move a little closer to him so their arms are brushing together. No big deal. It’s fine.

But then, not long after that comes the first thing to jump out at them. They’re walking and suddenly the corn russles and something hops out right in front of them. Clarke screeches and moves back, knocking into Miller and nearly causing him to fall over. Clearly, he hadn’t been ready.

“Fuck,” she huffs when the thing disappears back into the corn.

Miller pushes her gently off him with a laugh, “You good?”

“I fucking hate haunted houses,” she says finally, “I know none of it’s real but when people jump out at me I kind of want to run away, kind of want to punch them in the face.”

“You should punch the next one in the face,” Bellamy adds quickly, “It would definitely be worth my money.”

She seems to relax slights after that, giving him a warm smile and continuing forward. The next scene the stumble across isn’t that scary, just a clearing filled with the children of the corn, which is sort of disturbing in its own way, but not scary. It’s when they here a laugh come from behind him that he feels hand slide into his and grip it, hard.

He almost lets out a surprised grunt, but when she begins to cling to his arm and he sees the sheer terror in her eyes, he decides to let it slide. He squeezes her hand in reassurance. The comfort doesn’t last long as a clown (again, predicatable) begins to chase them down the row. Clarke grips his hand even tighter and drags him along with her as she practically sprints away. By the end of the row, she’s out of breath, but makes no effort to let go.

“Afraid of clowns?” he asks smugly. She sticks her tongue out at him in response. It’s cute, he decides. There isn’t much light in the maze, though they’ve come to the next part which happens to be a janky barn they’re supposed to enter (chainsaw guy is next, for sure). But in the faint light, he tries to get a good look at her. She’s the same age as Monty, making her only slightly younger than him. She’s definitely attractive, with her sharp eyes and long hair. Great chest, too. But there’s also something spunky about her – he can tell in the way she cusses like a sailor and rooms with a guy out of spite towards a school. She says things like “gender neutral names” and has strange self-awareness of her own attractiveness.

“We going in, or what?” Miller hisses from behind him and he hadn’t even realized they’d been standing there that long. He pushes the door open and they enter. It’s full of clanking weapons and there’s a long table sitting in the middle. They hear a scream and Clarke is once again glued to his arm. He can feel her nails digging into his jacket and he shakes his head.

The barn is full of multiple stages, one guy pretending to maim another person, fake blood spewing everywhere and awful screaming. There are four different jump scares, people sticking their head out of holes or jumping in front of them with fake intestines falling out of their stomach. When they reach the otherside of the barn, he hears the rumbling of a chainsaw. It revs from behind them and of course, they’re running again. He follows them and they come to a fork in the maze. They take the left and Clarke is once again dragging him along. He lets it happen – he’d hate for her to get stuck by herself.

The chainsaw fades into the background and the maze stretches before them in eerie silence.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes quickly, “I’m sure you didn’t come just to have your arm pulled out of socket by me.”

“You are surprisingly strong,” he admits. She is. His fingers might actually be bruised by the end of it. Totally worth it, though. He is never opposed to having a beautiful girl hang all over him. Wait, beautiful? He doesn’t call people beautiful. Attractive, yes. Hot, even. Beautiful? Shit.

“Where did Monty and Miller go?” she glances behind them and sure enough, his friend is nowhere to be found.

“They probably went right,” he concludes. The fork in the maze is probably meant to separate groups. Make things a little scarier.

“I guess we’ll see them at the end,” she says and they continue forward. He offers his hand and she hesitates briefly and he thinks maybe he’s overstepping his boundaries, but she takes it with a small smile.

“Monty really likes your friend,” she tells him, and he assumes she’s trying to make small talk to silence the paranoia. Something is bound to jump out at them. Better to be distracted and scared rather than prepared for it and still scared.

“Miller likes him too,” Bellamy smiles, “I’ve never seen him act like that with anyone. Hell, not even me.”

“You all used to date?”

Shit. Maybe not the best thing to tell Monty’s friend. She might think he’s jealous or something.

“Oh, uh…” he thinks on it for a moment, “Yeah. Briefly. Way back in early college. Like Freshman year and I wouldn’t really even call it dating.”

“What would you call it?”

“Shit, I don’t know. Friends with benefits? Figuring out if I was into guys. Or girls. Or whatever. Which, it’s both. I did learn that.”

She nods thoughtfully, “Yeah, me too.”

Well, fuck. Just when he thinks she can’t get anymore attractive. The moment doesn’t last long. It’s rudly interrupted by some jackass wearing knock-off Freddy Kruger gloves. The long claws wrap around Clarke’s arm (somewhere along the years of his avoidance in these things, touching people became allowed, which, what the fuck?). She yelps but rather than run or wrap herself around his arm, she rears back and smack the costumed employee across the face. She wasn’t fucking kidding, holy shit.

“What the fuck?” the guy yells as he stumbles back. She pulls both hands to her mouth in shock. He can’t hold in his laughter and nearly doubles over.

“I’m so sorry!” she apologizes, “I didn’t know you all could touch us. I wasn’t expecting…I…shit I’m sorry!”

“There’s a sign that says it out front!” Freddy Kruger argues back, “Jesus.”

Bellamy does his best to sober up and grabs Clarke’s free hand to pull her away, “The mask probably broke the contact. You’ll be fine. Make the signs bigger.”

In her defense, he hadn’t read the sign either. He pulls her away and can’t seem to stop laughing about it. She shoves his chest playfully.

“It’s not funny!” she hisses, though he can tell she’s doing her best not to laugh either.

“That was a nice hit,” he compliments, “You really put your whole body into it.”

“I took a self-defense class last semester,” she finally cracks a smile, “The beauty of being close to graduation. Easy, bullshit classes.”

It’s honestly hard to focus on anything else at this point. The people chasing them don’t really have the same effect, and even Clarke seems unfazed by it all. They reach the end about ten minutes after the incident and double back around to the front to meet up with Monty and Miller. They aren’t there so he assumes they haven’t come out yet.

“Thanks for letting me hang all over you,” she leans back against the railing that seperates the parking lot from the line, “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” he says, “Maybe check in with Freddy tomorrow.”

“I can’t believe I did that,” she says incredulously, “I told Monty this was a bad idea but he insisted.”

Bellamy watches her for a moment, admires the curve of her lip and the mischievous look in her eye, like she could wreak havoc at any moment while simultaneously saving the world. He has a suspicion that maybe this was purposeful. That maybe Monty and Miller knew what they were doing when they asked them to come here. Bellamy hates haunted houses and thinks they’re lame. Clarke is terrified of them. And yet they’re the only two to show up. He thinks about the way Miller greeted Monty with a kiss, something he would do with someone he was dating and comfortable dating at that.  That motherfucker set him up.

He wonders for a moment if Clarke figured it out, but it seems like she honestly thinks her other friends just didn’t show up and Monty really wanted her to come for moral support. He can’t say he’s really that mad about it anymore. She’s funny. She’s cute. She punches Freddy Kruger’s in the face. Mark him down as gone because this girl, well, he can tell she’s something special.

“Where the hell are they?” Clarke asks, bringing him from his realization. His phone buzzes at the same time.

Miller: I’m taking Monty to a late dinner. Can you give Clarke a ride home?

Miller: I’d ask if that’s weird, but you all were making googly eyes at each other the whole night.

Miller: Also, you’re fucking welcome. I don’t owe you ANYTHING

Bellamy chuckles and slips his phone back into his pocket, “Well, our friends ditched us for a more private date. I can take you home if you want?”

He hopes it’s not weird for her. After all they’re practically strangers.

“Or you could take me to dinner?” she offers, and her eyes are full of that same mischievous sparkle, “I mean, if you’re going to check me out the least you can do is buy me food.”

Yeah, he’s a fucking goner.

“I’d love to.”

…So I have a slightly different take on the ‘Toffee is/was Star’s caretaker/guardian’ AU…

In which Toffee didn’t stray from canon in the past until the announcement of the birth of the royal princess Star Butterfly. While Toffee was still putting his plans together and keeping a low profile, other monsters are angry and are unable to just sit still. One of which was an old solider who served under Toffee and still had some contact with him. This monster decides to take a drastic measure with a few other allies; they break into the castle and steal the newborn princess.

Now the monster knows Toffee’s history and figures that he would want to be the one to spill royal blood and show the Mewnians that the monsters aren’t going to stand for this oppression anymore. But Toffee does have his own code of morals, and while he is fine with manipulating and even killing teenagers and older Mewnians, he does have an issue with butchering an infant because it’s barbaric and ‘-only Mewnians and their Royalty would do such a thing. And I refuse to sink to their level’.   But ‘That doesn’t mean I see the need to help them reclaim what they lost.’ And his decision does emotionally destroy the King and, more importantly, the Queen for a long time. Losing their daughter and finding a body or just having some form of closure would be one thing, they could eventually recover after dealing with their grief. But having her stolen and then vanish into thin air is another thing entirely. Because it allows room for hope to creep in and then they collapse into grief over and over again for years.

Meanwhile, Star is growing up under in the care of monsters, Toffee being the main caretaker and central ‘parental’ figure in her life. He is never once dishonest about what she is, who she is, and how she came to be in his care (he does stall a little on being completely straight forward until she’s old enough to start to fully understand, but he’s given her pretty explicit hints in the past. One of which was a story he told her about a Mewnian baby who was taken from her parents by angry monsters who wanted revenge, but found they couldn’t kill her because it would make them even worse than the hateful creatures they had stolen her from. Star figured out it was about her before she was eight). He even is honest when she does ask him hard questions such as ‘Are you just keeping me because you think I’m important?’ ‘That is part of it, yes.’ or ‘Do you care about me at all?’ ‘…It depends.’ But Toffee and the other monsters are not unkind to her (heck, most of them ADORE Star because her core personality is still the same and she has a magnetic affect on almost everyone she meets (including Toffee, by the by, but it’s so complicated for him that he mostly tries to keep her at an arm’s length away as much as he can. For example, for most of her childhood, she was only really allowed to call him by his name. Any other nickname or… say something like ‘dad’ really made him cringe so she stopped that pretty early on)), and Star loves and adores them all the same. Though she is careful to reign it on for those few who aren’t looking to get too close.

That’s not to say there aren’t some major differences between this Star and canon Star. This Star isn’t growing up as a privileged princess in a castle. While she’s never remembered going hungry, she has experienced certain time periods when she noticed Toffee (or another monster she was staying with) going without eating for a while so she could. She never really had a lot of excess; just necessities and maybe a few luxuries but not as much as a royal princess normally would. And she’s seen the deadly effects of unchecked bias and oppression firsthand; she’s watched friends and once even a ‘family member’ killed by the Mewnian guard or angry mob. But she can’t fully hate Mewnians either, since she has met some of the lower class who can’t stand the ruling family and how their society functions, and once they met Star they do start to change their minds about monsters as well. Because ‘what? this darling, sweet, thoughtful little girl is being raised by a cold-blooded lizard and she turned out like this? And she’s offering us what aid she can? Dang son! What else has the royal family been lying about?!’ As a result, she has friends on both sides, and has even unintentionally gotten a fair number of Mewnians on the monster side of the conflict.

She still knows how to fight very well by the time she is a teenager. After all, monsters have to fight for survival, and Toffee was a General. By the time she’s twelve, she even started sneaking out to go on raiding parties with some of her friends to steal food and other supplies for monster families. Granted, she never let’s anyone kill anybody when she goes along, but she could and would if she had to protect one of her friends. She also managed to pick up a few of Toffee’s traits as well. One being when she’s stressed or trying to get a read on someone, she takes on a neutral expression and sarcasm that’s so similar to his that people have sworn she had to actually be his daughter.

Eventually, by Star’s fourteenth birthday, Toffee has taken her aside and explained enough about what he’s planning and that under ordinary circumstances she would have been given the one major threat to monsters that she, of course, gets a totally reckless and dangerous idea. After gathering as much information as she can, and has the patience to collect, she breaks into the castle and steals the wand. It, of course, magically changes into the first form we see in the show (again, reflecting Star’s core personality which isn’t too changed), and she unfortunately alerts the guards to her presence. She does manage to escape, but has the entire royal guard right on her heels. Toffee by this time has realized what Star has run off to do, and is coming after her when they meet back up. They don’t get a chance to recover however, as pretty much the entire army is on them immediately. The conflict does not go well, and Toffee is actually ‘seriously’ hurt fairly quickly. Star sees this and when she does, she shows her talent for magic by actually blasting most of the guard off of them, and giving them a moment to escape. She quickly steals a pair of dimensional scissors one of the guards had on him, cuts open a random portal to who knows where, and grabs Toffee. She yanks him through it, and snaps it shut behind her before anyone fully realized what happened.

Star and Toffee ended up on Earth, in front of a convenience store at night. It’s pretty deserted, so Toffee at least isn’t that worried yet. But Star is just about hysterical; crying and apologizing over and over that he got hurt because of what she did and how she was just trying to help and oh no he just looked so bad. Star’s so upset, that she slips up and is referring to Toffee as ‘Dad’ the entire time. Toffee meanwhile, is mostly just trying to get Star to calm down because honestly her being in hysterics isn’t helping them at all. Suddenly, they’re interrupted by a man, woman, and their son. The two adults are slightly confused but very concerned at the sight of a girl the same age as their son crying and apologizing to what seems to be her ‘father’ who looks very badly injured, and asking if they need help. Their son just looks horrified because ‘WHY IS THERE A WARRIOR PRINCESS AND A LIZARD MAN HERE?!’ Star is still high stung and jumps up, pointing the wand at them, but Toffee stops her. He reminds her ‘it’s rude to attack someone offering you aid’, and does admit they need help. Especially since he does have quite a few injuries and regeneration is taking a bit longer than usual, and they have no idea where they are.

So the humans- whose names they learn are Diaz- take the pair back to their place. Toffee manages to explain things to them in a diplomatic way as not to alarm them, and that he and Star need some time to regroup and figure out what to do. Mr. and Mrs. Diaz (of course) insist that they stay with them, at least for the night. Their son isn’t as thrilled as the idea as they are, but when Star comes downstairs a little while later after making sure Toffee is okay getting to the guest room and finally dozes off and apologizes for targeting them earlier since she was scared and didn’t know what was going on and for causing them so much trouble, he does start to loosen up some. It’s eventually decided that Toffee and Star are staying right there (whether or not Toffee got any input into that decision is never discovered) for as long as necessary. (The house obviously doesn’t have the tower sticking out of it, since Star wasn’t raised as a princess and having a plain bedroom suits her just fine.)

From there the AU follows the first half of season one pretty closely, with Star going to school and learning about Earth and her new friend Marco. She is kinda interested in learning magic and about the wand as well, since while she knows what Toffee’s plan is, she thinks that it should be used to go against the royal family and making change that way before destroying magic completely.

Anything after that I still have to think about, but yeah.

(P.S. I am naming this AU ‘The True Rebel Princess’ because I could see Star totally leading a rebellion against the Mewni royalty and upper classes down the line.)

Peter Park/Deadpool: No Heroes Here

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |

[A/N: Fair Warning. Complete butchering of Dr. Strange’s Powers ahead]

Deadpool kicked down the door to New York’s Sanctum. Peter had no idea what Deadpool meant by sanctum, other than that he’d been taken to some old building that looked a lot different from the outside than it on the inside. The outside looked like an old building that had been renovated to include modern features. The inside looked like a monastery though. 

Deadpool had mentioned something about magicians and mystic arts, and Peter had tuned him out in favor of freaking out and hoping to whatever deity was listening that Dr. Strange would save him from Deadpool. Dr. Strange seemed like a powerful guy. Hopefully he could do something. 

Men and women in robes whirled away from what they were doing to face Deadpool. In a flurry of hand movements, the men and women produced glowing, orange weapons.

“All right!” Deadpool swung Peter over his shoulders like a scarf and unsheathed his katana. “Mindless and gratuitous violence.”

Peter cringed. “Please don’t kill anyone.” Peter wiggled on Deadpool’s shoulders. He tried to slid free but couldn’t. “Also, could you put me down, please?”

“Oh, Baby Boy, you have no idea how much I love you right now. Also, how exasperated I am. You’re such a broken record.” Deadpool charged at the men and women. 

“I don’t want to be involved in this!” Peter shouted. 

“Too late!” Deadpool cried jovially as he rushed at some guy with a glowing, orange whip. “The stabbing will end when I see Dr. Strange.” 

“Someone, please get Dr. Strange!” Peter screamed. 

If anyone went to fetch Dr. Strange, it was at a snail’s pace. 

It was swords versus magic, with the occasional bullet thrown in—or shot in, as it were. Peter didn’t know who to root for. On the one hand, he would love for Deadpool to be subdued. On the other hand, when the Jedi-wannabes attacked Deadpool, they also attacked Peter. Peter might not be their true target, but it didn’t change the fact that Peter was attached to their target.

Deadpool dodged their attacks like he was psychic. He hadn’t killed anyone yet, but was enjoying stabbing and slicing anyone who got in his range. People were going to need stitches and blood transfusions. 

“Deadpool” a voice bellowed. Suddenly Deadpool (and Peter by extension) were lifted in the air via a glowing, ring of orange energy banded around Deadpool’s arms and waist. 

Floating at the top of a dual staircase in blue clothes that looked ancient, and adorned with a red cloak was none other than Dr. Strange and his skunk hair. His expression was thunderous as he rose higher into the air. He reached the same height as Deadpool and drifted close until he was within stabbing distance of Deadpool. 

“You might want to give yourself some space, Doc.” Peter wiggled and almost rolled off of Deadpool’s shoulders and onto the ground many feet below. “I know you got Deadpool in a bind right now, but no one should ever be within stabbing distance of this guy.” 

“Aw, Baby Boy,” Deadpool cooed. “You’re so sweet. Thank you for the compliment.” 

Peter sighed and placed his forehead in his palm.Down below the Jedi-wannabe’s were helping each other to their feet. Anyone who had been seriously wounded by Deadpool was receiving medical attention. 

Suddenly Peter’s body felt lighter and Deadpool’s shoulders weren’t digging into his gut. 

“Hey! That’s my future boyfriend, you perv!” Deadpool shouted. 

Peter cried out in surprise when he looked down and saw his body floating away from Deadpool’s. Luminescent, orange bands that were smaller than the one holding Deadpool, encircled Peter’s wrists and ankles. Slowly he floated to the ground. The bands disappeared once Peter’s toes touched the floor. 

“I hope you are all right,” Dr. Strange said, still maintaining a close distance to Deadpool. 

Peter rubbed his wrists. “I’m fine. I just need to go home, and—shit! Work! I need to be at work!” Last Peter had checked he was nowhere near his evening job. He’d have to get a taxi, unless someone in the sanctum had a smart phone linked up to an Uber app.

“Wait! Wait!” Deadpool wiggled. “Don’t let him go just yet, Doc. I need you to show him something. He’s a hero, and he doesn’t know it. He’s like you and Captain America, except cooler.” 

“Ignore him. He’s crazy. Everyone knows that.” Peter backed toward the exit. 

“Doc, this has to do with the multi-verse! I need you to look deep inside yourself and find your inner dickbag Dr. Reed Richards so that I can prove that while I may be crazy, I am not crazy when I say the guy before you is one of the best super heroes ever, and for some reason this god damn universe fucked up and left him an average Joe with a super ass. An ass that tragically isn’t covered in spandex.” 

“The multi-verse?” Dr. Strange’s brows drew together. He scrutinized Peter. 

“Listen, you’re the real super hero, or magician, whatever you consider yourself,” Peter said. “Point is, you’ve fought evil space aliens and stuff alongside the Avengers.” Peter backed toward the front door. “You can handle Deadpool. I’m just a normal guy, like he said, so…”

There was a loud sound behind Peter, like the sound of a bolt being slid into place. 

Damn it! Abducted by Deadpool, and now Dr. Strange. How was this his life? 

Dr. Strange floated down to Peter’s level. “You do look familiar.” 

Peter sighed. He held up his hands and shrugged. “Maybe I delivered pizza to you once?” 

“Think about it, Doc!” Deadpool shouted. “Think about all the times you peered into your crystal ball and saw Spider-Man.” 

Dr. Strange scowled at Deadpool, but his gaze kept flickering back to Peter. 

Peter’s stomach churned. “I really need to go to work.” 

“What’s your name?” Dr. Strange asked. 

“Peter Parker.” 

“Peter Parker,” Dr. Strange spoke the name as if he were tasting wine. He reflected upon the name for a moment. There was a flash of recognition, then Dr. Strange was studying Peter once again. “Peter, I understand your desire to leave, but I think it would be wise to linger. Even if Deadpool’s claims are wrong, he is a persistent individual. It might be wise to go through the motions of verifying his claim. Otherwise, we might find ourselves in this situation once again.” 

“You’re saying you’re going to give the bad guy exactly what he wants?” Peter deadpanned. What kind of upside-down universe was he in? Dr. Strange should be kicking Deadpool’s ass for abduction and breaking and entering. Heck, he should at least be fighting in the names of all his friends Deadpool just stabbed. 

Dr. Strange looked like he had sucked on a lemon. “Unfortunately, yes. If recent battles with Deadpool have proven anything, it’s that negotiation and compromise are usually the best methods for keeping Deadpool in check. Even if he just stabbed several sorcerers.” 

“Listen, I just found out my future boyfriend has been denied his super hero destiny. I’m a little emotional right now, and your friends made me feel so attacked, okay?” 

Peter thrust his arms at Deadpool. “Did you hear that? Did you? How can you consider going along with someone like him?” 

“Because, Baby Boy, I will cut myself in half to get free from this magic stuff then drag you back here if you walk out that door.”

“You can’t do that!” Peter shouted. He then asked more quietly at Dr. Strange. “Can he do that?” 

Dr. Strange sighed. “Deadpool is resilient, and he very well could do that. I can delay him. In fact, I could delay him for some time, but-”

“Son of a bitch! That fucking hurts!” Deadpool had pushed against his bindings and the orange ring cut into Deadpool’s stomach like a saw. 

Peter gasped in horror. “Holy crap! Put him down! Put him down!” 

Dr. Strange huffed and with a few fancy hand movements, he lowered Deadpool to the ground. He didn’t undo the magical binds around him. Deadpool continued to struggle, and the magic cut into him more. 

“Stop!” Peter seized Deadpool by the shoulders. “I’ll miss work, okay? I’ll miss work and go along with this crazy idea of yours.”  

“You know, I’m kind of insulted that you would choose work over me.” Deadpool hissed in pain as the bindings continued to cut into him. “You mind freeing me, Doc?”

Dr. Strange eyed Deadpool warily. “I shouldn’t.” 

Peter was horrified. Sure, Deadpool was a terrible person, but that didn’t mean he deserved to be magically sawed in half. “Let him go. This is inhumane!” 

“Aw, Baby Boy.” Deadpool’s head lolled to the side. He smiled up at Peter. “I’m so happy you care. This is why I need you. You’re just so good.” 

The orange rings around Deadpool vanished. Dr. Strange kept his hands raised and poised to work his weird magic if Deadpool attacked. 

Deadpool breathed deep.

Peter reached out to touch Deadpool then stopped himself. “He needs medical attention.” 

“He doesn’t,” Dr. Strange stated. “He has an increased healing factor. It’s why he is so resilient.” 

“You could still give him some Advil,” Peter snapped. God, was he really defending Deadpool? The man who happily stabbed people and had abducted Peter? He must be catching whatever crazy Deadpool had, because just five minutes ago he wouldn’t have imagined himself defending Deadpool. 

Deadpool chuckled and rose to his feet. He pressed one hand to his abdomen. “It’s okay, Baby Boy. Just a few more seconds and the cut will heal completely.” He grabbed Peter’s arm and squeezed it in what seemed like comfort, but Peter swore he must be misreading Deadpool. “I just need you to understand. I can take you home after that, then we can celebrate your birthday with booze, cake, and a little something special if you’re in the mood.” 

Deadpool winked. 

That soul-puking sensation returned to Peter. “I swear if you weren’t holding me right now, I’d walk out of here.” 

“That’s what she said.” Deadpool laughed then stopped suddenly. “Oh man, that is what she said. That was really harsh. Not like I was asking her to cuddle. Deadpool don’t cuddle. He’s a macho man. I’d of course cuddle with you though,” Deadpool eagerly tacked on for Peter.

“Thanks,” Peter said sarcastically. 

“Perhaps it would be best if we went to a private chamber?” Dr Strange gestured to the grand hallway above the dual staircase. 

“Alone in a room with, Baby Boy?” Deadpool puffed out chest and grinned. It’s a dream come true. “Come on, baby.” Deadpool yanked  Peter toward the deep reaches of the sanctum. Behind them Dr. Strange and one of the sorcerers exchanged a few words. 

Peter wilted under the stormy looks of the sorcerers who watched him and Deadpool. It was so painfully obvious that they were not welcome in the sanctum. It was just one more reason to get this thing over with. Dr. Strange would use his magic, prove that Peter wasn’t the alternate universe version of this Spider-Man guy, and then Peter would go to work. 

Peter startled as Dr. Strange floated past him and Deadpool. Dr. Strange pushed open a door and gestured for Deadpool and Peter to go inside. 

The room was sparse, with just a few pieces of furniture and a carpet in the center of the room. An incense burner hung in one of the corners, and on the table was a scrap of paper with the word “Shamballa” written on it.  

“Make yourselves comfortable.” Dr. Strange waved at the room. “Someone is gathering the supplies we’ll need.” 

“Magic mirror?” Deadpool asked. “Magical wardrobe!” Deadpool cooed. “Please tell me, we’re going to have to travel through Narnia.”

“There are many worlds—many universes—and all of them are connected. Even so, peering into alternate realities is no easy feat. You might find it easier to step into a hidden world on another plane of existence. Because as-”

“Blah, blah, blah.” Deadpool mimed talking with his hands. “We get it, you’re not Reed Richards. You’re the mystical guy who goes to magical realms and stuff. Well, right now, you’re what we got, so stop yammering and start making magic.” 

Peter sighed. He was tempted to point out that Deadpool should not exasperate the guy who was helping him, but Peter could already hear Deadpool’s rebuttal.

Dr. Strange took offense, but if he intended to say anything to Deadpool about it, he was interrupted by one of the sorcerers bringing a tea kettle and two cups. Dr. Strange thanked the sorcerer as he took the items. The sorcerer accepted the gratitude then went over to the incense burner. 

“Take a seat on the carpet.” Dr. Strange did so himself and poured what looked and smelled like tea into the cups.

“I don’t know, this rug looks pretty dirty. It’s going to ruin my suit.” Deadpool may have protested, but he plopped himself on the floor. 

Peter joined him with a bit of caution to his movements. The carpet was old and thin. The floor beneath it was hard and would probably damage something if Peter dropped himself on it. 

With a gaudy lighter, the sorcerer lit the incense burner. Dr. Strange thanked him again, and the the sorcerer gave a nod of acceptance. The sorcerer cast a Peter and Deadpool a look of distrust as he exited the room. 

 Dr. Strange handed Peter and Deadpool the two cups of tea. “These will help free your mind, and make it easer for you to peer into alternate universes. 

Peter wrinkled his nose. Dread pulled on Peter’s stomach. Dr. Strange was a hero. He had worked with the Avengers, and he was pretty cool. Not as cool as Iron Man or Captain America, but still awesome enough that Peter had trusted the guy to help him, and Dr. Strange had. Now that Peter was sitting in what looked like a room belonging to a monastery and being offered a drink by essentially a stranger, he doubted himself and Dr. Strange. 

“All right, let’s try some of these psychedelic drugs.” Deadpool lifted up the bottom half of his mask and downed the tea. 

Peter blinked then stared at the scared skin on Deadpool’s chin. The scars were red and angry. Peter’s jaw ached in sympathy. He wondered what the hell had happened to Deadpool for him to get scars like that. 

“The hell?” Deadpool ripped the cup from his mouth and scowled. “That was just regular tea.” 

“You sure the drugs aren’t just tasteless?” Peter asked. 

“There are no drugs in the tea,” Dr. Strange stated. “The tea is meant to calm and relax you. That is all.” 

“This sucks,” Deadpool whined and dropped his cup on the ground. 

Peter looked at the cup in his hands. He sniffed the beverage. It smelled like chamomile. Hesitant, Peter sipped the tea. He didn’t taste anything odd, so he he continued to drink until he slurped up the last drop. He set the cup aside. “Now what?”

Dr. Strange thrust his palms at Peter and Deadpool’s foreheads. “Now, I free you from your physical constraints.” 

One moment Peter was sitting on the floor and the next he was floating above his body. Peter barely had time to panic as a force pushed him backwards. He cried out in shock. A wispy figure of Deadpool shouted something beside him, but Peter couldn’t make out his words. A blinding white light shined behind them, and soon Peter was thrown into it. 

There were stars and galaxies around Peter. He flipped and spun in the vacuum of space, only to be pulled toward a door. Peter reached out to grab something, and his hands gripped Deadpool’s. 

“Wild ride, right?” Deadpool hollered. 

Then they weren’t in space anymore. Peter didn’t know where they were, but everything was distorted. A Dali’s painting was more comprehensible then the aurora like skies and the neon green bridges that connected doors, pits, and toxic looking lakes. 

It all faded to black. 

Peter squeezed Deadpool’s hands, needing an anchor. He didn’t feel Deadpool though. 

The blinding light that had sucked Peter in returned with images of himself, except they weren’t of him. The person he saw looked like him, but the things that version of him did were impossible for Peter. The person wore a spandex suit and saved people. He called himself Spider-Man. He fought alongside other heroes. He even joined forces with Deadpool to fight a monkey assassin. 

He saw himself with the friends he’d had before his parents had died and he had been put into foster care. He saw himself break down over the loss of a friend. He saw himself with his Aunt May. 

Suddenly Peter was back in the room with Dr. Strange and Deadpool. 

“Whoa! What a trip. Who needs drugs when you can do that. Right, Baby bo-Fuck!” 

Deadpool’s curse snapped Peter out of his daze. 

Tears rolled down Peter’s cheek. He’d been crying. 

<<<Previous | Next >>> 

KuroMahi Week || Day 07: AU

The campus bookstore Mahiru worked in was mostly quiet because the semester was already half over. Most of the students already bought their books at the beginning of the year so, aside from a few stragglers, not many people came into the bookstore so late in the semester. Mahiru thought he could relax and do some reading after he finished stocking the books.

So, he was surprised when a familiar stranger entered the bookstore. Mahiru recognized Kuro because they were in a couple classes together last year but they only spoke a handful of times. He had always been curious about the quiet student and wondered if he was a sociology major as well.

Kuro appeared a little hesitant and he was being pushed down the aisle by a blonde man. Mahiru was still carrying a large pile of textbooks so he searched for a cart he could put them down on before he approached them. He was taken aback when the blond pushed Kuro forward and they crashed into each other. The books fell and scattered between them and Kuro groaned. His brother laughed behind them as he fled the scene. “See you at home, Nii-san. You got this as long as you use my advice!”

“Damnit, Hyde!” Kuro cursed him as he watched his brother leave. He sighed heavily and turned back to Mahiru who was gathering the books. He knelt in front of him and helped him pick them up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you like that. I hope they didn’t get damaged. I can’t really afford all these textbooks.”

“I don’t think many students can. But don’t worry about it, Kuro. These are used texts that students returned so the university won’t even notice if you banged them up a little. Your secret’s safe with me.” Mahiru laughed lightly and Kuro’s face relaxed a little when he heard it. But, on the inside, his heart sped up a lot. “Is there a specific book you’re looking for? I can help you find it.”

“Um…” Kuro shifted all the books into one arm so he could look at his right hand. His face was burning as he said, “Do you have a map in your eyes? I’m a little lost. Wait, no, that’s not how it goes. Do you have a map because I’m lost in your— I can’t do this, I’m sorry. I’ll just find the textbook I need on my own.”

Kuro handed him back the textbooks and ran off. Mahiru tilted his head in confusion and he couldn’t guess why he would want a map. The bookstore was small and each section was clearly labelled so he shouldn’t need one. Even if he did, he could’ve asked him to show him around. They were the only two people in the store and Mahiru was more than willing to help.

He placed the pile of books on the counter before going to find Kuro in case he needed his help. Mahiru found him in the school supplies section, lightly hitting his head against the display case. He was mumbling something beneath his breath and the few words Mahiru could make out confused him more. “Kuro, you idiot… Why can’t you talk to him normally? He probably thinks you’re some weirdo now… Damnit, he’s too cute…”

“Are you a fan of Neko-san?” Mahiru asked behind him and Kuro jumped a little. He turned to face him and Mahiru gestured to the cat character on the binder he was leaning over. Women were more partial to the cartoon character than men so Mahiru guessed that was the reason for Kuro’s embarrassed blush. But Mahiru thought that it was a little cute that Kuro liked cats.

“My friend loves the character too and bought us out last week. We just got a new shipment of them this morning. I didn’t put them all out yet but I can get you some from the back if you like. You might want to purchase them now, before Licht buys them all again. Just give me a minute to get them—”

“Wait, you don’t need to. I just wanted to ask you…” Kuro looked down at the writing on his hand and swallowed slightly. He took a deep breath before he went on. “Are you an orphanage? Because I wanna give you kids. Wait, what? Damnit Hyde, we’re both guys so this makes no sense. I swear I’m going to kill you when I get home.”

Mahiru didn’t understand what he was trying to say. He tapped his cheek as he tried to piece together the meaning and even that small action was cute to Kuro. “Are you asking about how I like to take in stray cats? My friends tease me for it and call my home a cat orphanage but I didn’t think they would consider it gossip for it spread so far. Are you trying to find a new home for your cat?”

Kuro was silent for a moment as he considered lying. The conclusion Mahiru came made was much better than the truth. That truth being that he was trying and failing to flirt with him. He had always been a loner but Mahiru never hesitated to hold out a hand to him. They would be partners for group discussions whenever he didn’t have a partner and would have short conversations him before class. Since then, he wanted to get to know Mahiru better and become closer.

He asked Hyde to help and he was beginning to regret that decision. Thinking that it was better to give up than to embarrass himself further, Kuro took a random notebook and headed to the counter. “Can you ring me up for this?”

“… Okay.” Mahiru was a little confused when Kuro tried to leave so suddenly. He was disappointed because he wanted to speak with him a little more. Still, he couldn’t force Kuro to stay if he needed to leave. He walked to the other side of the counter and took the notebook from him. When he did, he noticed ink on Kuro’s hands. Do you have a map? I’m getting lost in your eyes.

There were other things written on his hand. As he scanned the notebook, Mahiru read the notes out of curiosity. He realized that they were all cheesy pick up lines and he thought back to how Kuro acted earlier. Was he trying to flirt with him? Seeing the small blush Kuro had now, Mahiru giggled a little because he thought his efforts were endearing.

“We have contemporary sociological theory together, don’t we?” Mahiru asked even though he already knew the answer. How could he not notice someone so handsome in the small class?

“Yeah, I think I see you sitting up front. I usually just hang out in the back and hope the prof doesn’t call on me. It’s so troublesome. Everyone just stares at you when he does. Participation isn’t even a part of our mark so he’s just a sadist. Don’t even know why I go to class.”

“He is a little strict.” Mahiru agreed with a light laugh. “At least you’re a responsible student and come to every class. You always answer correctly too so you don’t give him the satisfaction of embarrassing you. Think of it that way.”

“You sure like to look at things positively.” Kuro found that it was easier to speak with Mahiru now that he didn’t have to force Hyde’s terrible pick up lines into their conversation.

“If you don’t have a class after contemporary theory, do you want to catch a bite to eat together and go over the lecture notes?”

“Sure, but I don’t know how much help I’ll be.” Kuro said. He thought that he completely butchered his opportunity so he was relieved that Mahiru was still willing to talk to him. “How much is the notebook?”

“Oh, it’s $6.77.” Kuro nodded and took out a bill from his wallet. Mahiru gave him his change but he kept the notebook for a moment. He opened it and began to write on the inside cover. Once he was done, he slid the notebook back to him. Kuro took it from him and saw that he had written his number in it. Mahiru lightly touched his hand to get his attention again and smiled at him. “Call me later, okay?”

“Okay,” Kuro said and watched Mahiru return to work. He didn’t want to leave just yet so he asked. “Do you need any help with those textbooks? They look a little heavy. I can carry them for you as an apology for making you drop them earlier.”

“I would like that. Just promise to not use any of those pick-up lines on your hand.” Mahiru teased and Kuro flushed red. He chuckled when he saw his reaction and then took pity on him. He handed Kuro a few of the textbooks and their hands brushed when he did. “I like it when you talk to me normally like this.”

Kuro, only a fool asks Hyde for advice XD Then again, you’re all a bunch of fools in love

The Tragic Story Of Anastasiya Shpagina’s New Nose

Remember when I first wrote about Anastasiya’s long-awaited rhynoplasty she’s always been dreaming of? I actually was happy for her, knowing how she always hated her nose. If you want my opinion on plastic surgery, I’m not “all for it”, but at the same time, I’m not against it. To me, it doesn’t matter how you look and what you do to your body as long as you’re a good person. If you love yourself the way you are - good for you, if you dislike the way you look and want surgeries - go for it. Just… be a good person. And this basically was the idea of this whole blog. Being beautiful is not about how you look outside, it’s about not being an asshole (like… you know who).

But let’s get back to Anastasiya. Back when I wrote that short post about her rhino, neither I nor other Baginya users knew much about it. All Baginya users started watching and discussing her post-op healing progress and wanted to see the final result.

Everyone thought her new nose looks way too short for her face and just very unnatural.

Those users who also had rhino were reassuring others that it will change to the better and look more natural when completely heal. Unfortunately, this never happened. Moreover, it actually has gotten even worse: one of Nastya’s nostrils eventually got deformed, and this change was so obvious you just couldn’t fail to notice it.

When it happened, everyone noticed that she started to film her face only in ¾ angle, but back then nobody could tell why exactly.

The answer to this question is in her Sherlock transformation video, where you can see for a short time what happened to her nostril (also note weird lines on the sides of the nose tip):

There’s no question that her nose is ruined. And sadly the deformed nostril is just one, and not even the biggest problem with her new nose. But I will tell more about it later. 

To that moment, Baginya users already found some information on Dr. Timur Nugayev, who performed Nastya’s surgery, and let me tell you, this BUTCHER deserves a whole long, detailed post on this blog! And when I finish it, you’ll see I’m not even over-reacting calling him a butcher.

By now, let me give you a very short summary on Dr. Nugayev and his “work”:

1. He does absolutely awful job — differently sized or just weird-looking breasts, unnatural and all alike noses that often don’t fit a face and make it look disproportioned, HUGE post-op scars that never disappear, weird dents in the body after lipo, wrongly done anesthesia, threads forgotten in the body! Should I even continue the list?

2. He gets rude to his patients when they try to question the job he done. If you question it, he acts like you insulted him, and if you continue asking questions, he BLOCKS you! Remind you of someone? He also denies his fails saying nonsense like “It will change when fully heal” when it is OBVIOUSLY not true   and reminding that “he is the doctor so he knows better”. This happened to Nastya. He just denies everything and lies that it will get better.

3. He carefully monitors the internet to remove all the negative reviews on his work. If you google his name, you’ll find only all alike and obviously fake reviews that make him look like a surgeon of your dreams.

4. At least once was caught STEALING a picture of a random girl on Instagram claiming he did her breast surgery!

5. He goes live on Instagram during the surgeries!!! Answers questions and clowns around instead of being fully concentrated on his patient!

6. He lets his wife, who is a pediatrician, assist him during surgeries!

7. There is a whole truth community on him on instagram — doctor_nugaev_pravda_ created by one of his “victims” and it attracts more and more of them every day! It often gets hacked or blocked because Dr. Nugayev desperately tries to stop it. Many post-op pics get removed through reports, many girls DM their post-op pics to the comminity’s founder but ask not to post it because they hope to get it fixed by him or at least get answers from him and they are afraid he will know them from the pictures.

This all is beyond belief. But what is even more unbelieveable, is how Nastya could go to that butcher without a research. This is your nose, your face, you can’t cover it if something goes wrong, a rhinoplasty should be a serious, mature decision, you can’t just pick a random doctor, you sould do a careful research!

Nastya secretly DM’ed her pictures to doctor_nugaev_pravda_’s founder, too, and one of them was posted there, but shortly has gotten removed because Nastya asked her to. That picture was posted on Baginya before it got deleted:

And here’s what even more awful. In her conversation with the community’s founder, Nastya shared that she has breath problems! The nose Dr. Nugayev gave her not only is deformed, it can’t normally function! She has to breathe with her mouth or she starts to suffocate!

This made Baginya users mad because she’s been hiding it for all this time, and for all this time her posts on Instagram have been PROMOTING that excuse of a doctor attracting new victims instead of WARNING people about that butcher!

And only after that public response on Baginya, she finally made a video telling the truth about her surgery and Dr. Nugayev. She also removed all promotional texts from her instagram posts about him and his clinic and replaced them with the truth.

Good that she finally did it. Too bad it toke her 4 months. For all this time, almost 2 millions of her subscribers thought she had a successful surgery by a dream surgeon. And god save those of her fans who went to him after they read it on her Instagram…

Seasons of Love Ch.9 (Sashea/Katlaska) - Nymph

a/n: this one goes out to adrian who kept me thoroughly entertained throughout the writing of this chapter with about a thousand crap, crap jokes, HoLA3 who are a legion of all round good eggs and i love them, and the AQ Brits who keep me sane and are the best people on this planet and keep me going no matter what is happening

in which sasha makes a move, and katya begs for a favour

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

please enlighten me on why you enjoy servamp so much (genuinely curious) - i tried watching it a while back but it just didn't get me hooked. what am i missing??

030 hoo boi. Okay, as much as I wanna go into a hyper deep analysis like I normally do and list 800 reasons why. I just gotta say anon. It might just be a personal opinion for you and I can’t shove opinions down your throat. ^^;

But how I came to like it WAY MORE was reading the manga afterwards. Cause oh boy I was NOT really fond of the anime’s ending. AT ALL. I watched the anime first and then was just EXTREMELY CONFUSED and was honestly ready to dub this as a “bad series my dude.” But then I kept hearing so much talk about the manga. 

Anon. Amigo. Buddy. Pal.


  • They legit removed characters. Like they suddenly don’t even exist anymore. 
  • SKIPPED AN ENTIRE ARC FOR LUST PAIR. (and tbh one of the best ones, they basically skipped Lust Pair so we could get to Greed Pair quicker instead. -w-)
  • left out some important dialogue (imo)
  • introduced some characters WAYYYY earlier than they were supposed to be shown.  
  • they also left out some funny/kinda cute moments
  • some scenes are shortened.
  • lots of character development that we don’t get to see in the anime, or characters like Snow Lily, Mikuni, etc. have a less major role in the anime. WHICH SUCKS cause they are so much more than the anime gives them.
  • and so on…..

the whole anime ending is completely made up. Like it’s similar up to a point and THEN BOOM nothing makes sense anymore. There is quite a bit of anime only moments too. So yeah. It doesn’t match up in many ways…. it’s cool we have a anime, but gosh they butchered this series. So maybe give the manga a chance anon???? I see a lot of people say the ending sucked or “didn’t make sense” and they are anime only people.

 and EVERYONE ends up saying “just read the manga” just like I’m saying right now. That’s usually the case with anime vs. manga.

Thank you for your question. Hope you check it out! ^^ or not. It’s up to you!! Have a good day!  ❤❤❤

Letters For Hoseok.

↳Pen Pal!AU | Imaginary Friend!AU
“It’s normal for kids to make imaginary friends when they feel alone.”
“But what if that imaginary friend becomes real?”

Word Count: 2,4K
Genre: Angst
[WARNINGS: Unhealthy and irrational behavior, obsession over thought(s)]

A/N: This is VERY influenced by this video, check it out it’s really good and I got motivated to write it at 4 am. All credit and rights of the idea go to them, not me in this case. I feel like I’ve butchered their idea completely tbh. (Also, check out other things they’ve done on their channel, I’m literally screaming at them).
Also, thank you @icedrice for being an amazing beta for this work. <3

Keep reading

Getting to Know Yourself: Chapter 2/8

Tags: Thomas/Logan, Thomas/Patton, Thomas/Roman, Thomas/Virgil, no jealousy, Edging, Tickle Fights, Bad Puns, dad jokes, lots and lots of cuddles, Blow Jobs, fantasy times, unexpected self-esteem issues, Logan’s Plan™, accidental date, Cliffhangers, negative self-talk, cursing
Notes: First, thanks to my amazing beta, BFF, and queer platonic life partner, @randomslasher. Without her this wouldn’t exist, as I got the initial idea from her! And she was an immense help all the way through. Also thanks to @parsnipit, who is the best cheerleader anyone could ask for! Her flailing gives me life.
Heed the warning, there’s definitely explicit sex scenes contained within. But also lots of feels, puns, and Roman being unbelievably extra.

In which Thomas (the fictional, exaggerated version of himself Thomas plays in the videos, not the real Thomas) gets to know his sides better than he’d ever expected, and finds out they each have something to teach him about sex, intimacy, and relationships.

Chapter 2: Patton

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

May I request a small story of poly Roadrat where their s/o is in an accident and loses a limb, and they go through shock, depression and breaks down into tears as eventually all of their feelings flow out like a tsunami, knowing they'll never be the same, but are grateful to have two lovers to help them through the healing process.

Roadhog and Junkrat were serial killers. Psychopathic murderers. You guess that made you one by proxy, didn’t it?

You had never forgotten that and they had never hidden that from you. All three of you had been shaped by the horrors of the irradiated Australian Outback; murderous roving gangs, vicious mutated fauna, nuclear rainout and blinding dust storms. They had killed more men than you could count and had maimed even more; survival trumping any bullshit sense of morals the outside world would impose on those who needed to survive in the wasteland. And they had lived this way for years; the One-Man Apocalyptic Enforcer, the Explosive Anarchist and the Junkette Mechanic they had sworn to protect with their life.

You wondered if this was your punishment for becoming complacent, for trusting that things would not change in this ever changing whirlwind of the world. For thinking you were allowed to be anything more than serial killers and survivalists. You had begun to feel safe in your home, the one you all had built with your bare hands. Walls made of sheet metal welded and and riveted to make the shape of a big shanty home; simple scavenged furniture, stolen mattresses and bedrolls, a clay and stone cook stove and a hodge podge of interior decorations. That was your sanctuary, your palace, your fortress. This is where Roadhog became Mako; the strong yet loving head of your household who loved small, cute things and was fiercely protective of what was his. He could feel like himself, alive, actually happy. Jamison ran the same in and out of their protective little nest; mind full of wild ideas, excitable fascinations and adoration for anything bright, loud or explosive.

Roadhog had earned you all a wide breadth all on your own; he was the enforcer, maintaining some semblance of control in the lawless land and laying down the law when it demanded it. Dissidence was common as was guerilla warfare but none had been bold enough to attack your home until now.

Read More

It had been a quiet night, a normal night. You assisted them with the cleaning and maintenance of their weapons, of the bike and Jamie’s arm and leg. Mako helped you butcher the wild pig Jamie had caught in one of his trap, Jamie clinging to the both of you as you seared the meat over fire. You had ate and laughed and rutted and slept, everything shockingly normal until it wasn’t.

The three of you were rocked awake by the sound of one of Jamison’s landmines going off, ones that had been laid out a kilometer away. Mako was yelling at you to leave out the back passage, your hands shaking as you assisted Jamison with putting on his silicon leg liner on as he pulled on his sleeve. Mako had already yanked on his boots and gloves, his vest sliding onto his shoulders, your eyes darting between him and Jamison.

“Go”, Mako snarled, grabbing his shotgun and a side bag of ‘ammunition’. You could hear the concern in his voice, knew that he was being forceful because he needed you to concentrate on getting to safety.

“B-b-but Ja—”, your stuttered, flinching as another explosion went off, swallowing thickly as you forced yourself to focus. Your hands moved in autopilot, helping him to pull his leg on and pulling him up.

“Hog’s right”, Jamison said as he straightened up, testing his leg as he began to grab his own gear. You could hear the tension in his voice as he gave you a crazed grin. “Can’t risk blowin’ up our girl, can I? Hurry on out so we can take care of these mangy bastards, alright luv?”

“O-okay”, you responded, stumbling over your words as you pulled your own boots on.

You weren’t a fighter, you had survived as long as you did because of cunning, traps and bartering your own safety. That is how you had ended up with Mako initially, offering him bike parts and repair work in exchange for protection and since then he had watched your back. And now you needed to listen to them so they could do their work. You scurried around your room, grabbing your backpack that was filled with your tool and a small pistol, a last resort in an emergency. You dashed from out of the bedroom, Mako and Jamie heading for the front door as you began out the back.

“Stay safe”, you called to them, the both of them glancing back and nodding before heading out the door.

You could hear Jamison’s cackle, the ground shaking as his grenades shot off. They could take care of themselves, they would be fine, you had to reassure yourself of that. Your hand groped at one of the metal sheets that appeared riveted to the wall, yanking at it until it gave way to a hole in the wall.  Your home had been built against a hill; partially for support and partially so they couldn’t be completely cornered on all sides. They had dug this safe spot out specifically for you as a safety precaution to get you away when danger came from the front, letting you have an exit out the back onto the hill. You groped blindly through the dark of the tunnel; stumbling over your own feet and tripping over small hills of dirt you couldn’t see. You couldn’t remember how many more steps you had, how much further you had to go until you reached the metal sheet on the opposite side.


You grunt, bouncing back against a wall of dirt, your hands reaching directly in front of you and groping in the dark. All you could feel was your fingers sinking into the dirt, small bits of rock and minerals getting caught under your nails. The sheet wasn’t there. It was supposed to be there. Where was it?! You could feel panic begin to rise in your system as you tried to dig for the door, only to have more dirt slide down and covered your shoes, threatening to cave in.

“No no no no”, you whimpered as you backed up, your breath catching in your throat. You scrambled backwards, falling twice on your rear before you fell from the same hole you had entered in. “Fuck…oh no…oh no.”

It looked like your home had collapsed; the roof had fallen inward and was still smoldering, the walls filled with bullet holes, posters, curtains and furniture on fire from misfired explosions. You clambered up, gulping as you looked around the home, eyes darting around as you looked for a way out, dashing towards the door. You breathed in relief as you were able to jump over the twisted pieces of metal, twisting and shaking the handle to the door. Ice filled your veins as you tried to get the door open, twisting and turning the handle to no avail. Your eyes burned as smoke began to drift further into the room, your frantic breaths making it harder and harder for you to breathe. You jumped, the sound of an explosion to the left of you sounding too close for comfort. The metal groaned under its onslaught, your heart thundering in your chest.

You needed to escape. You needed to get out.

Your shoulder slammed into the door, taking a few steps back before rushing back towards the door, a pained whimper tumbling from your lips.

“Come on”, you screamed at the door, crying out as you rushed back into the door. Pure adrenaline pumped through your veins, dulling the pain as the door began to bend at your onslaught. Your mind raced, your hands wrapping around the edge of the door as you tried to force further open. Just a bit more and maybe you could scramble out, push yourself through the hole in the door. Your entire body jumped as a piece of roof dropped to the ground behind you, blocking off any escape route, a small sob leaving your lips. “No…no no…”

You were terrified, your hands pushing even more at the door, shaking hard as the futility of the situation began to creep in. Standing on your tiptoes, you could peek outside of the door. Mako and Jamison stood on opposite sides of the small yard, only a half dozen or so men left standing, the rest dead or injured. Jamison was pushing them back, sending explosives towards their feet, the agitators lobbing explosives sloppily back at them. That is how they were destroying your home, pure unadulterated luck. And yours had just run out. One of their explosives bounced off of the door, rolling to right in front of it. Your breath caught in your throat before you began to scream.


Time felt like it slowed. Roadhog and Junkrat both turned, each of them seeing your frightened face peeking out of the crack of the front door. Then the flash of the explosion, the heat from the blast rushing over them as the front of their home caved.



Your head hurt. Your head hurt so fucking bad. A whine caught in raw throat, tears squeezing out from your clenched eyes trying to will the pain away. You couldn’t find it in you to open your eyes.

‘Need to focus on something else…need to focus.’

You were on your side. Everything was so goddamn hazy through that veil of pain in your head. It hurt to breath; your throat was raw, your lungs burned and your sides hurt.

‘Bruised ribs? Don’t know…Don’t…know. Fuck…’

Another painful throb went through your head, dropping straight into your stomach. You could feel the nausea now, it was palatable, a sickly sweetness crawling into the back of your mouth. Your stomach felt empty though, there was nothing that you could force up, no energy left to purge.

‘Gotta move…gotta get up…’

You tried to move your arms, your hands, nothing. You were cold, reserves absolutely empty. Angry curses swam through your mind, a few more tears slipping down your cheeks. Useless, inept, incompetent. You were a weak link in your relationship’s chain and this was your comeuppance for not doing better, not trying harder. Still….it had gone…silent? You could hear crackling of flames, the knocking sound of metal expanding under its heat. There was no more gunfire, no more explosions.

‘No no no…please god no…’

“Jam–Jamie”, your voice croaked, your lungs hurting as you sucked in a sharp, wheezing breath. “Mak-Mako…Jamie…oy…you c-c-cunts…don’t fu-fuggin’ ignore me….please….boys…please…”

A throaty pained sob clawed through your chest. You had distracted them, you had gotten them killed. Why were you so fucking usel—


The grating, screeching sound of metal scratching against metal filled your ears, driving a knife into the center of your forehead. You forced your eyes to open, your eyes staring blearily at the twisted metal wall in front of your face. It took too much energy to turn your head, blinking leaching what little energy remained. Your vision cleared in pieces, you could see the broken beam the hung over your body, it was propping up a wall next to you. Roadhog’s gloved hands came into frame, he was pulling another piece of the twisted roof away. Your face scrunched up at the sound of the twisted metal moving again, eyes closing for half a second before wrenching back open.

“Ey luv”, Jamison said, his voice infinitely softer than it normally was. You were thankful, you didn’t know if your ears could handle the loud, excitable tone. “You stay right there possum, ‘Hog and me will get you right out, ‘kay? Oy oy, look at me, nuh uh no closin’ those pretty eyes of yours. Lookit me pet, focus on this sexy mug, alright?”

Your eyes kept trying to slip shut but Jamison’s ramblings kept coaxing them back open, an exhausted smile stretching across your lips. Your boys were okay. Banged up but okay. Mako pulled another chunk of metal away, grunting as he threw it behind him. Jamie could reach you now, his hands shaking as they reach down, stroking your cheek and petting your hair.

“Thatta girl”, Jamison hummed, his manic grin calmer. Where those tears in his eyes? You wish you could will your arms to wrap around him, but at least his hands felt so goddamn good against your chilled skin. He dipped down and placed several loving kisses against your forehead. “We’re gonna get ya outta there and you’ll be right as rain. Well… right as rain in the bush can get y’know? Just a lil bit more, a lil bit more darl.”

Up. You wanted to ask him to pick you up but you couldn’t form words anymore, your eyes unbelievably heavy. Maybe he had pulled something in his arm, maybe they had to make sure nothing would fall on ya. Yeah, that made sense. Mako’s grunts were closer now, his movements coming into your peripheral vision. He was moving so frantically. What was wrong? You shivered hard. It was cold. Jamie’s hands weren’t helping anymore now, your teeth wanted to chatter but they couldn’t, no strength in your jaw. You were so tired. They were okay, you could sleep right?

“Sweetie? Oy, open ya eyes sweetie. O-open your eyes, darl! ‘Hog! Wh-what should I do?!”

Jamison shook you a little, the string of fear yanking higher and higher in his tone as he screamed at Mako. You wanted to tell him that it was okay, that you just needed to rest. Why was he so upset about that? You felt his hands get yanked away from your face, Jamison’s hands replaced by Mako’s. His large hands slipped underneath your head, gingerly lifting your head from the floor and holding it there. You could feel Mako moving and shifting around, your nose scrunching up as you felt something surround your face. Mako’s gas mask?

“Sorry sorry”, Jamie spat out, you could feel him fixing the straps, tightening it around your face and accidentally yanking your hair with it. “‘Hog’s gonna fix you right up, right mate?”

He sounded scared but there were still those underlying layers of trust, Mako grunting back at him affirmatively. You could barely hear the two of them as they spoke, the gas mask recycling and amplifying the sound of your breathing back to you. You listened languidly, picking up bits and pieces of conversation between the both of them.

“We have to free it…gimme the….”

“Fuck….fuck…what d’I do now?”

“Belt it above the knee…..pull it tighter….good….hold her hand.”

Mako’s thumb gently stroked your head, you could feel Jamie take your hand and squeeze it between his own. Everything else was just…cold, your mind floating too far to really worry about that. You could hear the opening of a container, Mako’s voice suddenly right next to your ear..

“Take a deep breath.”

A hissing filled your ears as something pressed into the mask, taking a deep, shuddering breath as the acrid scent of chemicals filled the mask. You immediately regretted listening. It felt like every single nerve in your body was suddenly on fire, your eyes flying open as you began to scream in pain. Both of them held you still as it felt like every single fiber of your being tried to pull itself back together; stitching together cracked ribs and fractured humerus, healing your throat and lungs while purging the chemicals that stuck to the tissue. You were pleading, begging, imploring them to make it stop when Mako pulled the canister away from the mask.

“It hurts”, you whimpered, tears pouring from your eyes and getting caught behind the rubber that sealed it to your face. Every time you tried to wrench your hand away to claw the mask off, they squeezed you tighter. “Make it stop..please make it stop…it hurts so much it hurts…please pl—”

You felt all of the air get punched out of your chest, losing all ability to talk as the reparative chemicals reached your lower body. It felt as if someone had stabbed you with red-hot knife, the searing heat cutting all the way around your right calf. Your words and screaming and begging became incoherent, shaking like a leaf as your body tried to fix something that didn’t want to be fixed. Your head lulled back as you completely lost consciousness.

You came to in the sidecar, to the sound of Jamison and Mako yelling back and forth at one another over the sound of the motorcycle. When did you get onto the bike? Jamison shook as he held you, his hands dancing over your body; touching your hair and face and shoulders and neck. Your eyes peeled open, your head tucked into the right side of his neck. You could see the starry sky of the Outback fly by, Mako’s eyes focused in front of him.

“She still ain’t movin’!”

“She’s breathing! She’s fine!”

“‘Hog, I don’t thin–”

“Stop”, you whimpered weakly, trying to sit yourself all the way up. “Stop…arguing..where…where are we?”

“Almost to the safe house”, Mako answered simply, tone clipped as he revved the engine and pushed the motorcycle harder.

A twinge of memories from earlier that evening returned; working on the bike, eating dinner, sleep. After that, it was pure mush. You could tell something was wrong though, the tone and body language of the two Junker’s giving that away. You shifted in Jamison’s lap, his arms tightening around you.

“Ey now”, he warned softly, gingerly readjusting you so your left leg fell snuggly against his in the sidecar. “Don’t move…Just relax now luv, ‘kay?”

“What’s wrong?”

Neither one of them answered, Jamison’s arms squeezing even tighter, pressing his cheek against the top of your head. You could see the tension in Mako’s shoulders, the solid muscles in his arms twitching as he tried to stay calm. Your eyes darted between the side of Mako’s body and Jamie’s arms around your middle, shaking your head hard.

“No”, you answered, pushing hard against your lover as you looked up at his face before turning to look at Mako for answers. “Tell me. No secrets. We promised no secrets.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

Mako’s voice was tight, strained yet controlled. Your brow furrowed as you tried to recall the night, wincing as a your head gave an admonishing stab of pain.

“Going to bed”, you answered confused, shaking your head slightly. “Th-that’s it…why are we out here?”

“Got ambushed darl”, Jamison murmured as he kissed the back of your head repeatedly. “We took care of them, killed the whackers….”

“I don’t remember that”, you muttered, your brow furrowed in confusion, pressing your hand against your forehead as you tried to will yourself to remember. “I-if they’re dead…why are…why are we out here?”

“Kaboom”, Jamison muttered listlessly, the fingers on his left hand fluttering. “Blew us up good, brought the….brought the whole house down…”

“On top of you”, Mako finished, you saw him swallow thickly, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down. It looked like it pained him to continue. “It crushed your leg.”

“My leg”, you questioned incredulously, shaking your head slowly. “No, my legs feel fine…they’re fine.”

You kicked your legs, your left foot knocking against the side of the sidecar and back against Jamie’s leg. You tried kicking your right leg but it felt like the limb had fallen asleep, a heavy tingling sensation running from your toes to your hip. Your hand dropped to your hip as you squeezed, a ball of apprehension twisting in your stomach as you refused to look down. Tension grew as more and more butterflies began to flutter in your belly, your fingers sliding past your denim shorts and touching skin. You inhaled sharply as your hands reached your knee, thick cloth wrapped tight against your skin, your fingers flinching before groping forward and feeling nothing but air. A broken sob spilled from your lips, as you finally looked down and saw that from the knee down your leg was gone.

“Oh god”, you sobbed, your hand pawing at the covered stump until Jamison pulled your hand away, wrapping you tight in his arms. “No…no no….Oh god.”

You really were the weakest link this relationship. You couldn’t fight like they could, you couldn’t kill like they could. You had skills that any resourceful Junker could learn, there was absolutely nothing special about you. And now…with this you could do nothing but slow them down. The time it would take to heal and get a prosthetic and learn to walk on that prosthetic…you were dead weight. What little you had to offer…Your eyes frantically jumped to Jamie’s face and then Mako’s, tears spilling down your face.

“I’m so sorry”, you whimpered your apology, your fingers pressing hard against the skin of your cheek. “I…I am so sorry… I can’t…I…”

Stuttered, incomplete words tumbled from your lips, painful hiccuping weeping you suddenly unable to pull air into your lungs. Jamison shushed you, stroking your face and kissing the top of your head and side of your face. The bike slowed to a halt, you could feel the bike shift as Mako took a knee in front of the sidecar, pulling you into his arms.

“We’re going to fix you up”, he stated matter-of-factly, his hand holding your chin still, making you look into his eyes. “You are ours. We are not going to leave you behind. We love you, got it?”

“You’re stuck with us lovey”, Jamison answered back, rubbing hard at his own face before reaching out and stroking your hair. “We’re matchin’ now, can’t get rid offa matchin’ pair now can ya? We love ya, you little minx. Gotta teach ya the ole Junkrat swagger now.”

You couldn’t say with confidence that you were worth it, but they were going to stay by your side. They weren’t going to leave you, not yet. If you could hold onto that…maybe you could have some hope.

The Sadie Hawkins
  • Romanogers Fluffathon (I wanted to participate, thought it was a cute idea)
  • Avengers Academy AU
  • 1401 words

So it started like a normal week. Steve woke up to his alarm at 5:30 am, threw a pillow at Sam to wake him up, and together they went to the gym. After that they got ready for class, like every morning, and headed to the main building with a cup of coffee each. Steve was stuffing things in his locker and Sam was half asleep against the wall beside him when the weirdness of the day started.

And naturally, it started with Janet.

She suddenly popped up beside Steve with a giant grin. “You’ll never guess what’s happening!” she chirped so excitedly Sam jumped awake.

“AIM attack, giant monster, nuclear bomb?” Steve wondered, sticking his arm into his locker to try and find a pen.

“No,” Janet said and produced a brightly colored poster, “There’s a Sadie Hawkins dance!”

“A what?” Sam piped up from behind Steve.

Janet huffed, as if she couldn’t believe that the boys didn’t know anything. “A Sadie Hawkins dance! It’s a dance, but the difference is that the girls ask the boys.”

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Nobunaga (SLBP)

So… this was first supposed to be a fluffy thing for 100 follower giveaway to @rainbowatnight but I kinda turned it… into something else. I didn’t want to post this at first but after some persuasions from her… I posted it. If this is too OOC I really apologise because I always had trouble writing the tsunderes, and Nobu type *bow bow*

So… you may read my failure of a fanfiction then. TAT

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witchlog  asked:

Based on the most recent gtav video, how about an au where the fake ah crew has to move on after jack and Geoff die on a mission, so now Vagabond is the reluctant leader of Ramsey's lads who've always looked to the Gents for leadership.

And Ryan has always been Geoffs attack dog, never a leader, so he has extreme difficulty reigning in Gavin Michael and Jeremy, who are all trying to figure out how they function as a group without its leaders. Ryan has to now figure out how to /be/ a leader, so what type of leadership will actually speak to the lads in a way that they’d even listen to?

(Alternate ‘everything is terrible forever’ option here)

They’d thought they were dead. There was a moment there where they’d really thought it was over, thought Geoff and Jack had gone out together, gutting the crew in one fell swoop. The job had been sideways from the start, too rushed, too many loose ends, a disaster was almost inevitable. They’re just lucky it wasn’t worse, lucky it wasn’t as bad as it looks, so when Geoff and Jack are stable the Fake AH Crew hold an intervention. Bully their bosses out of the city, tell them they aren’t welcome back until they’ve had a proper holiday, free form any stress or danger. Neither Geoff nor Jack are particularly keen on the idea but the rest of the crew are entirely too proud of themselves.

At least until the moment Ryan realises that he’s meant to step up and be the responsible portion of the inner crew in their absence which, no, thank you. No. Absolutely not. There’s been a mistake. It’s not that Ryan can’t be a leader – the Vagabond was incredibly successful all on his own, and he did his time bossing about various guns-for-hire – it’s just that he knows exactly how undesirable the job really is.

There are some who think Ramsey has it made, dream of taking his role as king of the city’s ruling crew, but Ryan doesn’t truly envy his position for a second. The Lads are barely controllable on a good day and unless he’s the victim of one of their stupider pranks Ryan’s honestly never been interested in trying. Is often barely more than an honorary Lad himself, egging them on and grinning into his mask as Geoff tears at his own hair in frustration. So perhaps this is karma. Perhaps this is why Geoff took one look back at them on his way to board the plane and could only laugh and laugh. Because this? This is Ryan’s hell.

The Lads have always looked up to the Gents, and of course that extends to Ryan as much as Geoff or Jack but that fond admiration means nothing now. Normally the Lads respect Ryan just fine – the whole crew’s pretty friendly and Ryan’s more than earned his place, the push and shove between them is all camaraderie and good times, but that was before Ryan was declared boss. Before he was given a role they all relish in torturing Geoff over, before he became The Man. The one to rail against, to undermine, to cast as the villain any time common sense must prevail over idiocy. There’s no chance in hell they’re just going to sit back and make it easy.

Ryan tries to just be himself with more authority and they spend the week mimicking him like deranged parrots. He tried to yell them into submission and they simply shout back at him completely uncowed; between Geoff and Michael they’re all so desensitised to yelling it barely registers. He turns to dog training manuals and almost wins them over with various treats rewarding good behaviour, until the Lads remember that they are, in fact, grown men who can source their own treats. Ryan even tries, as a last resort, bringing out the menace of the Vagabond in an attempt to rattle the little bastards but barely makes it through the first sentence of his carefully worded speech before they’re howling with laughter.

The support crew do absolutely nothing to help. Well, no. They continue to be the consummate professionals keeping this whole ridiculous operation afloat, thank you very much, but when it comes to Ryan’s misery they’ve got nothing to offer. All vague hums of sympathy when he comes around to complain as though they’re not treating this shit like the best kind of reality tv. Full of commiseration and free advice like they they don’t all have money riding on every possible outcome of this farce.

In the end Ryan just gets on the Lads level and plays dirty; retaliates to every prank with something far worse, refuses to engage when they try to wind him up for their amusement and stops trying to emulate the way Geoff leads. When they become too much he hurls pointed looks of complete disappointment at Jeremy, sends Michael on endless tedious milk runs and flat out sits on Gavin for almost two hours until he gives in. Ryan comes up with jobs that are so odd and entertaining the Lads can’t bring themselves to miss out on, and maybe their laughter at the oddity of Ryan as their boss never really fades away but it simmers down to amused looks and shared grins and fuck, so long as they’re listening it’s close enough.

Ryan’s term as leader is a pretty equal spread of calm, careful planning for hilariously extravagant jobs and bouts of unmitigated despair full of creative insults and disturbing threats; I don’t care how pretty it is Gavin, if you don’t put it back where you found it i’ll shove it down your throat; Try it again you purple-haired little goblin I dare you; Michael if this place is burning when I get back I will fill your Adder with everything you love and drive it out to sea. It is, without a doubt, the longest three months of Ryan’s life, bar absolutely nothing. There are moments he enjoys, sure, but the second Geoff and Jack return Ryan goes on a killing spree, wreaks havoc in a bank and carefully promises the Lads that whatever duty was placed on him not to strangle his charges for intolerable impudence has been well and truly lifted.


On Sunday, his birthday, John went out hunting and got his first deer ever. He crept up to it, wind in his favor, and landed a shot with his compound bow at about 4pm. He almost fainted from adrenaline. He managed to call me and I sprinted up the normally hour long hike to the area in under 40 minutes.
We tracked it into a huge field of neck-high weeds and lost the trail. By then it was completely dark and frost was forming everywhere. The search carried on for another two hours with no trace. It was almost 8pm and we were exhausted. We almost gave up the search for the night when we stumbled into a small clearing 120 yards from where we were looking. The deer was laying there dead but peacefully.

It was beautiful, sad, and relieving all at once. We were glad he went quickly and found a comfy place to do so. We thanked him for his body and brought him all the way back home. He weighed in at around 130 pounds, a pretty big boy. We kept his skin, buried his head to dig up in the spring time, and butchered him ourselves the next morning. Our dogs will be having venison mixed into their foods the next couple weeks and we will also get to eat for a long time to come. Some of the meat already went to friends and about 14 pounds went to the butcher to make jerky and sausage. We kept most organs and I took enough fat to make some candles. Whatever was left went back to the earth for the coyotes and birds to pick from.

The last photo is not just most of the deer meat, but also a whole wild rabbit who was hit by a car (legs were mutilated, he had to be put down asap), and a piece of moose and elk from work. I am so thankful to these creatures and to feel so close to the ebb and flow of nature. I think most creatures have a very good concept of predator and prey, and while they do not want to die they understand as a prey animal that death is a constant. I don’t really know how to express it correctly, but I tried!

Waltzing with a Dinosaur (Delimoo)

This is my first attempt at a romantic pairing, so please have mercy on me if it ends up being terrible. I tried my best ;-;  

(This story is inspired by the recent Gang Beasts video created by Daithi de Nogla, BasicallyIDoWrk, H2ODelirious, and Moo Snuckel.)

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It was fairly common knowledge to everyone that Delirious couldn’t dance. Despite being a year shy of thirty, Jonathan had never taken dance lessons even in his youth and had two left feet, capable of butchering any piece of choreography one dared to throw at him within moments. He tried, there was no doubt about that, but finding the beat was something he had always struggled with. It was even the reason why he gave up playing the drums in band during middle school and switched to piano, where hardly any footwork was required.

Yet Delirious never let that stop him, and took great pride in his expertise in random arm motions and hip swaying whenever his favorite tune came on. It was only when he was forced to learn an organized dance number that Jonathan let his insecurities rise, choosing to back out and save himself the embarrassment when he would inevitably trip and fall while everyone else completed their perfect spins, tapping their shoes in melodious harmony. He envied Luke’s natural talent for dancing and only felt comfortable learning when he had his childhood friend as his tutor. That way if he failed, only his best friend would be the one laughing at him and not a crowd of people that he didn’t even know.

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