i promise someone cares

its been so long but im still trying to figure out how you could go from “i love you” to “i don’t care about you anymore” in such a short amount of time

I feel so homesick right now… so I took my homesickness and gave it to Lance bc thinking about how homesick Lance must be somehow made me feel happier for a second before I started crying bc he must feel it at least 10x worse bc I know I’ll see them soon and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever see his family again

Sorry if there are any typos, I can barely see through my tears

-at the garrison it was somehow different. he wasn’t with his family, but he knew he’d get to see them around the holidays and such things, plus skyping or texting or calling

-he still missed them and so he thought he knew what homesickness felt like: a tiny squeeze of your heart and a whispered voice reminding you of your family, but still fairly easy to ignore with the smallest distractions

-even then, if things got really bad for him at school he knew the worst they could do was send him back to his family, who would still accept him even if he was kicked out

-and then he was pulled into a giant space war

-which, unlike the garrison or literally any other school, has his schedule entirely unplanned

-was he going to eat breakfast tomorrow or were they going to have to fight something? was Allura going to surprise them with a crazy drill that they’d have to suffer through? was Hunk going to wake up later than usual and cause to Coran decide to make them disaster food? if he slept in, would the team let him sleep til lunch? who knows

-was he even going to live long enough to see his family? if Zarkon attacked earth, would they know? would they be able to stop him? what if his family is already dead? for all Lance knew, he could die in his sleep, but Allura dismissed him and said they couldn’t visit earth yet

-he has so much more time to think of things and at first he thought that would make him would feel better, but it doesn’t

-instead he notices that he can’t remember the way his sister parted her her hair, or where the freckle on his brother’s face was or if there even was one. he can’t quite remember the tune to the song his mother always sang, or the way his dad’s face lit up as he came home from his late shift at work only to find that everyone had stayed up late just to see him walk through the door

-his first thought is that it didn’t matter, that those were only the small things

-but then he noticed that he could barely breathe

-he was gasping and his lungs felt like they were full of cotton, his eyes stung as he tried not to cry, his head pounding out his erratic heartbeat. his hands and feet felt numb, his arms and legs like jelly. he felt nauseous too, and bile stung his throat as his mouth went completely dry. his heart felt like it was being ripped out of his chest viciously

-he tried to think of something else, anything else, but now his head was screaming everything he must be missing back at home

-does his sister still make cookies every saturday? does his brother still pick flowers on his way home from school? does his mom still make ridiculous cards for him and his siblings? does his dad still insist that they take pictures everyday?

-do they think he’s dead?

-at this point Lance just needs to get out. he’s scared and just hopes that distracting himself will still work because it’s the only thing he could think of

-so he walks right down into the dining room where the rest of the team is and starts talking

-the others talk back, and everything goes back to normal for Lance

-but the longer he’s away from his family, the more often this occurs, until it’s a habit to just talk to everyone every time he has someone to talk to

-he talked to the paladins, he talked to the alteans, he talked to Blue (and any other lion, although he couldn’t tell if they were listening or not)

-and eventually the others found him to be more and more annoying

-which sucks, because he needs them more than ever now, because now everything he does reminds him of home

-bathing, eating, sleeping, practicing, laughing, even talking

-and there are things he never did in space like fighting, training, or using crazy machines, but it just helped remind him that he’s doing them because he’s not at home

-Lance wants to tell them, but no one else talks about being homesick so he decides he has to stay strong

-they all say he’s annoying (wether or not they mean it) so he slowly gets quieter and basically loses his only coping mechanism but no one seems to notice how much worse he’s getting

-they don’t notice how quiet he is now either, until he says something and someone asks him if he knows how to shut up before they realize that that was the first time they had heard him speak in days

-they see his face fall and his eyes fill with tears, and now they notice his eye bags and the way he seems to be ready to fall over at any given second

-they don’t say anything however, because they aren’t very social and don’t know what to say (only Hunk and Coran seem to have any skills socially, but they wouldn’t be telling Lance to shut up in the first place so it’s safe to say whoever said it wouldn’t be a feelings expert)

-so they leave it alone. Lance was probably just tired lately for some reason but they won’t make him go to sleep because they figure he’ll be fine (again, pretty sure Hunk and Coran are the only ones who know what sleeping is)

-they’re too lost in thought to notice Lance leave the room gasping for air

-they’re too busy moving on to notice that Lance won’t be fine

Skyline {II}

Originally posted by over-et

Warnings: Language

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Guys!!! I’m seriously blown away at all the commotion and excitement around Skyline.  In the two days that I’ve posted it, I’ve had to turn off my notifications just because they were blowing up!! Thank you so much for all that you’ve done and, hopefully, will continue to do…as there will be a Skyline pt. 3 and possibly pt. 4!!  One quick thing I’d like to mention, however, is that I’ve gotten a lot of requests to tag people in my writing.  While I’m honoured that you guys want to know as soon as possible when I update, I’ve had so many people request to be on a tags list that I’ve just decided not to do one.  I don’t ever want to leave someone out or forget about someone, so I thought it’d be best to not have one at all.  I really hope this doesn’t affect you guys too much, but if you follow me, I usually give pretty regular updates on what’s going to be coming soon.  And, with that out of the way, I hope you enjoy!!

{part I}

It had taken a few weeks, but life after your meeting with Spider-Man had finally returned to normal. The groups of people hanging around your locker had broken up, the teachers stopped questioning you in front of class, and only three people asked if you had Spider-Man’s number when they wrote in your yearbook.  Despite the attention you had received, however, your school year had come to an uneventful close.  And although you were grateful the interrogations had stopped, you were less than overjoyed about the dullness your days had once again become coloured with.

Your time was filled with events in which variety was far and few.  You woke up at the same time, ate the same breakfast, took care of the same two year old next door, visited your same friends, and tried not to notice the slow ticking of the clock on the wall.  It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy the time with your friends, or your favourite toddler; it was just that you felt…different.  Different in a way that you couldn’t explain, or even put into words.  Just different.

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Two can play at this game

April Fools’ Day… the Snowbaz possibilities are endless. Also: @snowbaz-feda looks great and everyone should go check it out


March 31.

BAZ:

‘What did you do to him?’

Snow’s girlfriend has followed me out of the dining hall, her hands on her hips and her pretty eyes glaring.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I say, arching one eyebrow, and it’s true; I have no fucking clue what she’s on about, except that it’s about Snow. Everything is about Snow.

‘So this isn’t your doing?’ Her eyes are still squinted suspiciously.

‘Sadly, I can’t take credit for whatever has befallen Snow, but I’d love to hear about it.’ I pretend that I’m not worried. I tell myself that I’m glad if he’s hurt.

She huffs. ‘Just stay away from him, Baz.’

‘That’s going to be difficult, given that we share a room,’ I drawl. I suppose it’s no use telling her that I can never get far enough away from him. (I can never get close enough, either.)

‘I’m serious. I know you’re enemies and all, but that’s just politics. If you break his heart I swear Penelope will curse you so hard you’ll still be screaming from across the Veil. Hell, I’ll even do it myself.’ She’s practically spitting fire at this point.

‘Wellbelove, what the fuck are you on about?’

She sighs and crosses her arms. ‘Simon broke up with me.’

I try to squash down the hopeful feeling in my chest. It’s not like this is going to do me any good. (Anything is possible). (No, not this.)

‘My condolences,’ I say drily. ‘Or perhaps I should deliver them to Snow.’

‘He broke up with me because of you,’ she snaps. ‘Because of his feelings for you.’

‘Excuse me?’ I try not to let it show on my face. How fast my heart is beating. How much I want this to be true.

‘Just don’t use this to hurt him,’ she insists. ‘That would be low, even for you. Just leave him alone.’

‘Sorry, I’m still stuck on the part where you said Snow has feelings for me?’ My voice sounds too high.

‘Yeah, well, so am I,’ Wellbelove mutters. ‘I mean it, Baz. Don’t hurt him.’

‘What makes you think I can?’ Either Wellbelove is mistaken, or I must be hallucinating. Snow can’t have feelings for me. Snow hates me. He thinks I’m every kind of evil he’s ever known.

‘Because he told me,’ she says. ‘He says he’s in love with you, and I sure hope for his sake that it’s not true. I know you don’t think I’m much of a threat but I promise you, if you hurt someone I care about, I’ll fucking end you.’

‘Right,’ I say. I’m not scared of Wellbelove, but the way she’s looking at me right now, maybe I judged her too quickly. I want to tell her that she doesn’t need to worry, because I’m so in love with Simon Snow that even on good days I think it’s going to kill me, and all of this sounds way too good to be true.

‘I mean it,’ she says, and turns to walk away.

‘Noted,’ I manage to choke out, and now that her back is turned, I let the mask fall. I’m standing rooted to the spot staring after her with what must be a completely shell-shocked look on my face and – Aleister fucking Crowley.

Simon Snow can’t be in love with me. It’s impossible. It’s brilliant.

I look back through the door to the dining hall, and I see Wellbelove walk back to her table, and I realise Snow has been watching for her to come back.

Wait. There’s something I’m missing.

Why would she tell me that Snow has feelings for me, if she thinks I’m going to use it to hurt him?

And then I remember. Today is the last day of March. And that means tomorrow…

I draw in a sharp breath. It feels like I’ve been kicked in the gut. Fuck him. I fucking believed her, even if it was just for a minute. Fuck him for doing this to me. I want to march in there and drag him out of his chair and beat the living daylights out of him (I don’t. I don’t want to hurt him). I want to break down and cry, right here in front of the entire school. Natasha Pitch’s son, the vampire, a heartbroken, sobbing mess.

Alright. Fine, Snow. Fucking fine.

Two can play at this game.


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My Fake Boyfriend Part 6

Summary: After receiving a very rude letter of your ex on the mail saying that he is going to get married. You see yourself not knowing what to do, you can just let it go or accept the help of your hot neighbor and pretend he is your boyfriend.

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Words: 2350

Warnings: Angst, fuffly

A/n: Thanks to @drinkfantasy for being my beta. You rock.

Originally posted by itsmaleficentbitch

You woke up feeling different, you felt lighter and happier. It has been a long time since you last felt this way, you look at the clock and it’s 8 a.m. then you look at Bucky who is sleeping peacefully under you.

Something has changed since last night, you don’t know exactly what but it feels distinct. You stay in Bucky’s arms for a while longer; at this point you are used to cuddling up with him. However, you were never the one to initiate it… until now.

You softly trace your fingers on his jawline, making sure to not disturb him still. You kiss his forehead, getting up looking at him one last time.

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Colors of Dissonance (pt. 17)

Part 16

(Sorry, cutie pies. This story has been giving me a lot of trouble lately. Writer’s block all over the place! Hopefully I’ll get back on track with this part and be able to keep these updates regular from now on though!)

Mark wakes up as the sun’s rays peek in through missing panes in the warehouse’s windows. He turns his head and sees Amy asleep beside him and Sean on her other side. Mark sits up slowly, trying not to wake them. There’s a stiffness in his limbs, and he feels heavy.

Mark gets to his feet and walks over to the doors of the warehouse, pushed open and rusting with age. He decides to take a walk around the building to clear his head and to check for any sign of trouble. The morning is damp with fog and overcast like rain might be in the near future. Mark wonders if he should check the weather, but that would mean sending out his location.

Practically an invitation for Corporate to come find him.

He’s turning the corner around one side of the warehouse when something knocks over a crate behind him. Mark spins around, scanning the lot for signs of life, but other than the cloud of dust kicked up by the toppled shipping crate, nothing moves. Mark lets out the breath he was holding and turns back around only to come nose to nose with Dark.

“It’s so nice to see you again, Mark.” Dark appears again to his left along with a high-pitched ringing. Mark gasps and flinches away, but Dark just laughs. “Why so jumpy?”

“You nearly got me killed!” Mark’s hands grip into fists, and he briefly entertains the thought of punching this other version of himself in the face. “Just who do you think you are?”

“I’ve already told you that, Mark.” The other man drifts closer, always too close, like he’s trying to prove something. “It’s time for you to uphold your end of the bargain. I want control.”

Mark takes a step away as Dark reaches for him. “I told you, I don’t remember making that promise. Besides, what if you hurt someone I care about?”

Dark smirks and tilts his head in the direction of the warehouse. “Like your ex-girlfriend who hates your guts or the broken little man with a knife? Oh yes, you simply must protect them,” Dark says contemptuously. “You’re like a child, Mark. Children need guidance, and I can offer that.” Dark walks behind him, trailing his hand along Mark’s arm and across his shoulders. “There’s something I want, and I can only get it if you agree to let me take control for just a little while.” He leans in close to Mark’s ear. “We can either do this the easy way or the hard way. The easy way is if you do this willingly.”

Mark swallows and glares at Dark. “And I can imagine what the hard way would be.” He thinks about Sean, scared, broken, and alone. It only makes sense that the demon in his head would take full advantage of that, feed on it, and become stronger. “Tell me what it is that you want first.”

“I want to bring Corporate to its knees, only my way isn’t quite as peaceable as that of your friends.” Dark glances over Mark’s shoulder and smiles like a Cheshire cat. Mark hears Amy call his name from behind him. “Ah, here comes one of them now.”

Mark grits his teeth. “I swear, if you hurt her…”

“You’ll what?” Dark grabs Mark’s chin and shakes his head from side to side. “I’m you, idiot. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“Mark!” Amy comes around the corner of the warehouse, and when Mark turns around to look at her, Dark disappears. “Who are you talking to? I woke up and you were gone!”

Mark glances around, trying to see where Dark has gone. “I-I’m sorry, Amy.”

She walks up and punches him in the arm. “Quit scaring me!”

“Yes, mam,” Mark says with a little grin that turns Amy’s cheeks red. She glares at him a moment more before turning around and going back the way she came. Mark watches her go as Dark steps up to stand beside him.

A call appears on Mark’s neural-cam. It’s Nate. They’ve collaborated a few different times now, but what could he possibly want?

“Choose now.” Dark turns towards Mark. “You can choose to let me in, and I promise your friends will be left out of it. Or you can fight me off for as long as you can, and I’ll take over by force.” Dark grins maliciously. “And at that time, I won’t have to answer for my actions.”

Mark answers the call or Mark agrees to let Dark in.

If you’ve had a miscarriage:

- It wasn’t your fault. I promise.
- Your body isn’t “wrong” or “unnatural”. Loss is a very natural part of life and it’s unfair but you aren’t “wrong”.
- Take your time to grieve. It will hurt but it will get better each day.
- There are millions of people out there who’ve faced exactly what you are facing.
- Support is everywhere, you just have to look. Someone cares, I promise you.
- Everything will be okay 💕 your little angel is watching over you.
- If you need to talk, I’m always here!

It’s Hard to Balance | Part iv

Description: After Natasha confronts Flash about the (backfired) prank, the Reader’s longing for a true family fulfilled. But at lunch time, she’s suddenly faced with a harsh decision that could either ruin her life or improve it.

Words: 3154 (geez)

Notes: Final part! Woo! I cranked out this series so fast lmao. I might write a “year later” chapter or something if you guys want! If you do, just tell me here.

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Flash Thompson, Michelle “MJ” Jones, Ned Leeds.

Ships: Avengers x Superpowered!Reader, Peter Parker x Superpowered!Reader

Masterlist


“Guys, honestly, you don’t have to do this.” You said, nearly having to yell over the engine of the convertible, your voice drowned out by the wind. Tony turned around to face you when you came to a red light, lowering his sunglasses to peer at you over their lenses,”Kid, my dad never took me for joy-rides, and he never talked to the kids that bullied me. I’m just trying to be a better father.”

“Yes, but your dad wasn’t Iron Man!” You exclaimed,”Flash’ll shit his pants once he see’s you guys coming towards him!” You cried from the backseat. You didn’t want to come across as the snobbish rich kid with the cars and nice clothes, as you had conveyed this to them earlier. Regardless, Tony still pulled out his brightest, most expensive car from the garage and drove you here.

“Isn’t that the point?” Nat questioned. She dropped her joking tone when she saw the intense worry on your face, and she turned and glanced at Tony. With a sigh, Tony drove down the street, parking a block before your school,”Fine. I won’t go in.” He turned around again, giving you a pointed look underneath his sunglasses,”You and that Parker boy be good. Now go kick ass, kid.” You gave him a fist bump, thanking him under your breath as you left the car.

Natasha followed suit, and you looked at her narrowly. Knowing you couldn’t sway her to stay behind as easily, you followed her down the street,”You know you don’t have to do this, right?” You looked up at your mentor, her expression set dead forward,”I know.” Natasha replied. She lifted a wad of papers, which would need to be given to the school to change your emergency contact information,”I’m just turning some papers in.” She smirked, her true intentions clear.

“Oh, yeah. Everyone’s already freaking about the whole thing with Tony, and now they’re going to flip because Black Widow is helping me to school.” You looked down at your shoes as you and Nat walked in tandem, not even bothering to wear a disguise to hide her identity. She even had her widow’s bite cuffs on underneath her leather jacket, and probably had some other gear with her too, like her Makarov PM or Glock 26. Knowing she had at least six weapons on her at all times was both a comforting thing and a minor stress to your day-to-day life. Either way, she trained you to be the same, as you could feel the cold metal of two taser disks against your ankle.

Natasha only smirked, red curls flowing down and around her face with every step. She knew your usual route and followed you along the football field. With every step, you felt more heads turn your way. Nat noted how you skirted closer to her upon walking into the grass.”Nat, really—”

“Where is he?” Natasha cut to the chase, stopping your walk and searching the area for the snotty teen that had pranked you. You gently put your hand on her arm,” Nat, please, let’s just go to the office.” Natasha looked back to you, suddenly intensely caring as she put her hand on your shoulder. She leaned in and began to whisper,

“When I brought you into S.H.I.E.L.D 8 years ago after you got your powers, you were just an assignment I had to take care of to impress my boss and make up for everything I did with the Red Room.” She squeezed your shoulder, and your mouth was left agape with her sudden sentiments,”But over time, you became someone I cared about. I promised I would protect you after New York, and I’m still going to. So tell me where he is so I can defend you and protect you, because right now, we’re the only people we have.”

“Nat…” You trailed off. She looked down at you like you were her little sister, the surprise of hearing her say something so sentimental catching you off guard. And what she said what terrifyingly true; she was the only girl you could talk to about anything, the person who—over most of the team, cared about you the most. She trained you, she helped you control your powers, all the while staying and volunteering her hours to keep you safe.

“He’s over there. The snobby one messing with his collar.” You confessed, nodding to your right. Natasha looked to the bleachers, nearly every student on the field looking in your direction. She gestured for you to lead, reminding you of your first missions, where she would crouch down and quiz you about what to do next.

A gun poised in her hand, Natasha ducked below the crate and looked into your terrified eyes with stern, teacherly jade ones,”What do we do now, Y/N?” She asked, reloading her gun. You looked to your enemies, about to torture a girl.”I’ll fight them off,” You decided, looking to the trio of men,”You get her free.”

While you were so focused on the loss of Steve and the others, you forgot that someone was still here for you… even if “here” meant watching you from afar in a lunch lady getup.

When Flash saw you, he stomped off the bleachers, utterly oblivious to Natasha as she stood a few feet behind you,”Well hello there, Y/N. How was your and Penis Parker’s date?” He asked, sneering. You held your ground,”Great.” You smiled at him with a sickly sweet expression,”We went home and watched movies all night.”

He snorted, laughing it off before leaning in to whisper sharply,”You have no idea who you’re dealing with. My father—” Natasha cut him off,”Oh, so this is him.” She said. With each of her own steps forward he took a step back, stuttering incomprehensibly,”You-you’re the Black Wid-widow.” She stopped walking toward him when he bumped into the crowd behind him,”Make’s sense…” She murmured distastefully.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Peter entered the scene, looking at you for permission before he grabbed your hand. Ned came into step beside him, but promptly dropped his Chem project into the grass.”Is that…?” He trailed off. You and Peter exchanged a giddy glance,”Yeah.”

Natasha leaned in to whisper something into Flash’s ear, and his face darkened dramatically in fear. She glared at him as she pulled away, and you’d never seen someone so genuinely terrified in your life. With a final terrifying glance in his direction, Nat returned to you. Upon seeing Peter there, she looked at him skeptically, like she’d never met him before (although she had, and usually referred to him as “baby spider” in Russian).

“Is this that boy you’re dating?” Nat asked. Peter shook like a leaf for emphasis, extending his hand,”Y-Yeah, I’m Pet-Peter. I work with Mr-Mr. Stark.” He stuttered. Natasha didn’t take his hand, simply giving him a parting glance that implicated a number of things. Natasha began to walk toward the entrance to the school, leaving you to press a kiss to Peter’s cheek and chase after her to get to class on time.

Finding her gone once you entered the building, you suspected she had left to deal with the paperwork she’d been carrying. You left for your locker, finding it easier to open than before as you could finally breathe normally. Inside was, not only all of your books and notes, but a brown lunch bag, with the Black Widow hourglass drawn on the side. You smiled, giddy to talk to Peter at lunch and eat whatever you’d been packed.


Ned had purposely moved over to the Gamer’s club table for the day, gagging at the thought of you spoon feeding Peter today’s soup special for lunch. Michelle decided the same, going to eat outside on the field and read. You sort of felt like you were intruding on Ned and Peter’s friendship, but Peter reassured you it was okay.

“You used to train with him?” Peter asked, incredulous. With a nod, you swallowed your bite of (favorite fruit) and twisted in your seat so you could see his face better,”Yeah! When Nat wasn’t available then it’d either be me and Wanda trying to figure things out on our own, or I would have Steve yelling at me to do another 20.” You laughed together.

“I can imagine it. What was he like as a person?” Peter wondered, stealing a fruit snack from your pile. In response, you took a piece of his food, grinning back triumphantly,”He was what everyone would expect him to be; kind, brave, strong. He’s like an old man, but I nice old man who tells you really interesting facts about when he was younger.”

Peter’s laugh died in his throat, the hair on his skin rising and his eyes narrowing in concern. There was a pair of clicks somewhere far off in the room, only heard by your and Peter’s advanced senses. You both looked to the doors of the cafeteria, the joined, mechanical closing of each door lighting Peter’s neck with tingling.

”The doors locked.” You informed suspiciously. Peter scanned the room, desperately trying to find the source of his spider-sense meltdown,”My spider-sense is going crazy.” He told you. You exchanged a glance,”Where’s your costume?” You asked Peter, just in case something was up.”In my locker.” He said worriedly. You told him the same thing, both now standing to find the danger.

Your answers came with the sudden smash of glass, the resulting screams of the students by the windows echoing around the room. Through the crowd, you couldn’t see what was going on, but every student in the cafeteria simultaneously decided to rush to the doors.”They’re LOCKED!” Someone yelled. You and Peter looked to each other at once, nodding as he bolted to take care of the doors and you to see what was going on.

Three shots rang out into the ceiling, coming from a trio of gunmen. One shouted something, drowned by more screams. As everyone had cleared to get away from them, all crowded against the interior wall of the cafeteria. You were towards the front of the crowd, spreading your arms to keep everyone back. Three more shots were fired, all from the one man that had crashed through the center window on the wall. He hefted a large, home-improved automatic rifle, which each of the men carried.

“SHUT UP!” The order silenced the entirety of the room, and Principal Morita came on the announcement system to inform everyone of the situation. The leading gunmen fired at the speakers, silencing the Principal. His voice still echoed in the halls outside and the rest of the building, a haunting voice telling everyone to escape or remain inside depending on their distance from the cafeteria.

“We’re looking for a Flash Thompson!” Hollered another, and they all began to forcefully rifle through the crowd to find him. Without hesitation some of the students yelled out, saying that Flash was in their presence. He was pulled from the crowd, kicking and screaming, silenced by a gun barrel slammed into his temple. Despite your hatred for him, you knew you had to protect him, chest burning with an innocent’s sobs.

He was shoved to his knees, facing away from the crowd of highschoolers with his back heaving with frightened tears. The lead gunman pulled off his mask, forcing Flash to look up at him by lifting his chin with the barrel of his gun.”Hello, Flash.” He said,”Remember me?”

Peter came up behind you, whispering,”I can’t get the door open.” You couldn’t respond, stare fixed on Flash’s back as you considered what to do. Peter wore the same expression, your shared natural protectiveness of human life on high in the blur of the moment.

“My daughter went to school with you in Elementary…” The gunman started, his graying features hard with revenge.”You bullied her. One of many bullies that did.” The gunman moved his rifle away from Flash’s face, swinging it at his side as he leaned down to face the boy. Flash whimpered involuntarily, causing the man to smile,” She died last year because of you. You’re just another bully I have to kill.”

“Now you’re going to pay for it.” The gunman raised his rifle to Flash’s face, bringing shocked screams of surprise from the students around him. Your breath hitched uncertainly, Peter squeezing your hand in his. Students covered their eyes and turned away, Flash’s pleads for mercy echoing around the room in a mantra of pure terror.

“Bye-bye, bully.” The gunman chimed, before the bullet fired.

There was a breath of shock, the students looking away and waiting for the body to hit the floor, for red to coat the tiles, for the last resounding scream to exit his mouth. The collective exhale of the student body was silent when nothing in response came, and Peter stood there, staring in shock at the scene before him.

“Y’know,” You began, looking at the bullet under the morning sunlight. Flash quivered behind you, his head raised to stare in shock at your profile. Catching the bullet was probably the easiest thing you’d ever done, the worry and the anxiety of letting your secret forgotten in your haste. It felt good to save someone, good to catch that bullet, and the look on the man’s face was utterly priceless.

The bullet hit the floor with a soft twinkle of metal against the tile, the shell crushed under your foot as you rotated to face the gunman. Not Starling, but you, or maybe a strange combination of you and your alter ego. It was your voice that drew everyone’s attention, the voice of the teen they all looked up to, watching you lift tanks on TV and fly overhead when they walked home. You, their role-model, was that dorky kid who sat behind them in biology that just started getting popular. Why hadn’t they seen it before?

You took the end of his rifle, bending it into a creaking “L” as you looked down at your nails without interest,”It’s not very nice to shoot people.”

Now hearing you fully speak, they all recognized you, recognized their hero. There was Iron Man, there was Captain America, but then there was Starling, the teen that told everyone that they could be strong too. Because of she could be a superhero, then maybe everyone else could too. You were right there, standing above them, feeling their memories boil oddly in the back of their minds.

The boy that pushed you in the hall that morning gaped.

(Friend’s Name) shook, realizing she’d pranked a superhero.

Flash, above all, realized that the girl who’s life he ruined had just saved him for certain death.

In the split of that second, where they all realized what they had done to you and what they had put you through, you took the power and forced it outward. It was exhilarating, the feeling of finally getting back at them without actually hurting them. You were Starling. You were Lumin. You, Y/N L/N, were an Avenger.

Tearing him forward by his gun, you kicked him square in the chest. He slammed into the opposite wall, his accomplices beginning to fire at you frantically. It did nothing, only ripping your shirt. You raised your forearms, crossing them in an “X” as you ran at them. Shooting up into the air, you ran along one of the lunch tables, leaping off and landing on the face of one of your attackers. You crushed his gun underneath your shoe, firing a blast from your hand and into the gun of the other. It blew up in his face, and you had successfully taken down the three of them in under a minute.

You hovered in the air, staring back at the crowd tentatively. Sirens screamed in the distance, their volume suddenly overtaken by the uproar of your classmates. Clapping and whistling and cheering your name was all you could hear, and as you landed before them, many rushed forward to embrace you and shake your hand and thank you. Your voice fell over theirs, the elated tears in your eyes steadily falling as you accepted each of their words.

“Is everyone okay?” You called out. The few students by the windows when the attack first occurred spoke up, another informing you that an ambulance arrived. They followed you to the door, where you blasted it open. They all began to flood out, shouting things about “Midtown’s resident hero” and your alter ego. You turned back to the cafeteria, cleared out but for the unconscious men, a smirk on your face.

You landed in the grass after doing a perimeter check, a news team rushing out of nowhere. They had apparently jumped the police tape to get to you, so a bunch of officers were trying to pull them back. That is, after you landed. The microphone was shoved in your face, a dozen questions firing at you all at once.

“Are you the hero that stopped the attack today?”

“How did you stop the attack?”

“Do you attend Midtown Highschool?”

“How long have you had your abilities?”

“Ms. Stark! Is it true that you are the alter ego of Starling?” 

As they fired questions at you, the Iron Man suit landed not far off, right beside Natasha. Tony’s helmet opened, the mechanical suit whirring as he raised his arm to give you a thumbs up. Natasha smiled in congratulations, but both held something in their eyes that reminded you that you couldn’t go back if you did what you were doing.

Turning back to the reporters as the camera turned on you, you found yourself smiling mysteriously, turning your chin up in thought. Taking inspiration from Tony, you faced the reporters, looking each one in the eyes,”The truth is…” You crossed your arms over your chest, mentally asking yourself if you were ready for what was to come. When the answer came with the reminder of your classmate’s cheers and yells of thanks, you answered immediately.

“I am Starling.” You smiled.

The reports crushed together to try and get their microphones in your face, desperately crying for your attention as they all called out to you. But you walked away, over to Tony and Natasha. Tony gave you a teasing look,”You stole my line, kid.” Natasha elbowed him in the side, pride flickering along her expression,”Oh, leave her alone.”

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, the textone unfamiliar. Taking it out as Nat and Tony left to confront the police, you found the message oddly comforting, it’s messenger’s identity left unknown.

We’re so proud of you, Star - Unknown

You grinned, looking up from your phone to find Peter sprinting at you. He embraced you as soon as he reached you, cupping your face and kissing your worry away. You laughed together, your brow resting against his as the cheers from earlier filled your ears, flooding your mind with pure happiness.

Maybe having your identity out there wasn’t so bad…

screaminggreyunicorn  asked:

So Underfell Sans (the grumpy, cold and agressive version) and the reader get out of the Underground. The night falls, and she convinces him to come with her, and she takes him to a really good spot to see the stars he have never seen before. He have a crush on her and maybe let the cold facade down for once. I don't know if it would make a great story, take liberties if it's too restrictive, but have fun writing this !You're talentend enough to make it works, anyway ! Take care of yourself <3

(aw, thank you so much for your kind words-! never doubt yourself, little snapshots of a world like this always have wonderful promise. i hope you like the little something of what i’ve done here - this one’s shorter, so i won’t put it under a cut. and you take care of yourself too, okay? i can certainly promise - someone really cares about you. <3)

Your toes dug lightly at the edge of the cliffside you had all been gazing over. The sun had now all but set, the distant city already glowing with the lights of the night. The others had quickly separated, not comfortable with the close company right now, but a begrudging promise to meet back here to form a plan to approach the humans lingering in the air.

You took a deep breath, letting the cooling fresh air of the mountainside fill your lungs as your eyes drifted shut. You hadn’t fully realized just how much you missed it, all those months spent in the caves of the Underground filled only with air so stagnant and dank…

“you humans’ve been pretty fuckin’ spoiled.”

A chuckle escaped you as you opened your eyes and turned your head. Sans stood at your side, a scowl on his face, his gold tooth catching the last of the lingering dusk light. Despite his words, his eyelights showed just a measure of softness that you had only caught on the rarest occasion in the Underground.

“Yeah. Seems we take a lot more for granted than we’d ever admit.”

He scoffed, not meeting your gaze, instead continuing to stare out over the mountainside. His arm nearly brushed yours with how close he stood, and you regarded him carefully for another minute, a now well-recognizable flush creeping up your cheeks.

Finally, his gaze flickered to you. “whatcha fuckin’ starin’ at, ya want somethin’ to-”

Your arm looped through his and you turned away, cutting him off as he grunted in surprise.

“C’mon, I wanna show you something.”

You didn’t leave room for argument as you set a steady pace, trying to fight the grin pulling at your face, trying even harder to ignore the excited flutter of your stomach as your plan hatched.

“hey, ya don’t have to try ‘n pull my arm off,” Sans grumbled as he followed suit, surprisingly raising little other issue with your sudden insistence. His words were more than a little half-hearted, and you glanced at him from the half-step lead you had as you made your way up a lightly-worn path, venturing a little further yet up the mountain.

“What if I need a hand though? Gotta have a little help to show you this,” you shot back at him, your blush rising.

His eyesockets widened for a split moment before his grin - his real grin, something you could only ever pull out of him in the rarest circumstances previously - spread across his face. It still hinted of danger and dark promises, but in a way that sent the excitement bubbling in you into more of a frenzy.

“if ya’ve got a bone to pick with someone, sure,” he replied without missing a further beat, his cocky and mischievous look suiting him far too well. “it’d be humerus. i think tibia the source of another human’s fuckin’ shock and awe would be pretty satisfying-”

You laughed openly at his heavy wordplay as you pulled him above the treeline once again, a clearing of soft grass and late summer flowers tickling your calves as you whirled around to face him again. You pressed close, your free arm shifting so you could grip his upper arm with a brightening smile. His grin faltered for just a moment as his cheekbones stained a softly glowing crimson.

“The only one I want awed right now is you, Sans,” you whispered. You were so close now that his hips brushed against yours, that you swore you could feel the electric energy of his blush. It took everything in you to not throw caution to the wind and close the last of the distance between your faces.

Sans managed to find his words again, his voice going a little raw with how low and quiet it dipped. “w-what’re ya talkin’ about, sweetheart-”

You squeezed his arm one last time before spinning him away from you, away from the upwards slope of the mountain, back over the view you now stood over - and under.

Sans went completely still as he caught sight of the crystal-clear night stretching over him, the dim lights of the city far to your side now not able to drown out the glittering expanse of stars and the cloudy edges of the galaxy itself shining above you.

You remained quiet as you took in the view for a moment, relief and joy swelling in you as in this still moment away from the others, away from the demands, from the excitement - you finally let yourself realize that you were free.

And… more importantly… that he was free with you.

Your face tilted once again as you looked towards Sans, shifting gently so you could stand at his side, your arms still entwined. Your breath left you as you caught sight of his face.

Red streaks of liquid magic were streaming from the corner of his eyesockets, his face upturned towards the open sky with a vulnerable, matching openness you had never seen before.

Chest constricting painfully, you couldn’t find any words. You didn’t think you wanted to, really, as the wetness built at your own eyes.

Sans shifted at last, only the barest of movements as the arm you held moved and his hand caught yours. His fingers intertwined with yours, gripping just a little too tight.

You returned his grip as you carefully, slowly leaned against him, your face turning back up towards the sky as well.

honestly

fuck anyone who doesn’t believe you when you gather up a shit ton of courage and talk about what happened to you. 

I BELIEVE YOU. no matter what your situation, no matter what. I BELIEVE YOU. 

and i promise you, there is someone out there who will care, who will believe you, and who will help you get the help and support you need. 

snapstreak - one

Originally posted by nochuie

genre: fluff
pairing: jungkook x reader
summary: in which your snapstreak with hoseok is in danger because he decided to go without internet access for ten days but he hires someone to maintain his streak
words: 1.1k

read on ao3


day one

your hope sent you a snap!

“Okay, we’re boarding the plane soon,” Hoseok says, the camera starting to shake when Jin barges into the frame, sending flying kisses all over the place. “Jin-hyung! I’m trying to send a mess—”

You laugh when the video cuts off at the ten second mark, immediately holding down on the snap to re-watch it while waiting for Hoseok to send another one.

your hope sent you a snap!

“Alright, we’re leaving for Palawan in about ten minutes, and I promise we won’t lose our streak because I got someone to take care of it for me! I’ll be back in ten days!”

He blows a kiss towards the camera just before the video is cut, and you grin, taking a video of yourself catching the kiss before sending it to him with the caption, “have a safe flight!!!!”

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i just want everyone having a bad day to know that you are valid and wonderful and im not just saying that because it’s easy to say im saying that because i promise you things will get better and someone cares and even on the worst days i will love you more for every single thing you hate about yourself and when you’re down i promise i genuinely want to listen and do everything i possibly can and no you’re not a burden you’re not a burden you’re not a burden i know i can’t reach enough of you and touch your hand and tell you you’re beautiful and wonderful but i promise i really do and i love you and i love you and when you don’t love yourself just remember that i love you

A the Psy Vampire

Description of self: “Probably a little too much trouble for own good, really tired and so I sleep a lot, I put on an act of being a total douche but I promise I’m actually really caring and just want someone to love.”


Description from me:   He really is a sweetheart.  He puts on a proud facade, but he really does care for those around him.  He can be really goofy, and pretty sarcastic, so make sure that you can handle some self deprecating humor, and also deprecating humor towards you a little bit (but he doesn’t mean it at all).


Pronouns: he/him


Not Beginner friendly : You must be 16 or older in order to submit an application, but preferably 18


Magic they’re best at: dream magic, energy work


Physical description:  He’s about 6’2 and basically your typical edgy male title character in any romance movie.  He is ruggedly handsome with brown hair, dark skin, silver eyes, and well-defined muscles (*wink wink*).  He pretty much always wears a suit, but rarely a with a tie.  He occasionally has silver tattoos that are swirly designs just about all over his body.


Offerings/activities:  sleeping, dreams, herbal tea, watching movies, going skateboarding, making art


What they’re looking for in a companion: He’s looking for a friend who he can talk to about anything and everything.  He’s not very interested in learning or teaching, but just looking for companionship!


Comments from them: I hope that despite the age restrictions I’ll be able to find my forever home!

The companion chosen will receive full name, and more details on background, manifestations, offering, etc when chosen.  (Also if you give me a tip here and send me a message I can give you extra information on their species as well)

posted 07/18/17

10

Back beat, the word is on the street that the fire in your heart is out
(I’m sure you’ve heard it all before but you never really had a doubt)

anonymous asked:

Hi! Can you write an older Lone Wanderer runnning into MacCready and the Sole Survivor in Sanctuary, and acting like a total grandparent over how much he's grown, and making fun of him by telling Sole about what he was like? Thanks! ^^

(This sounds adorable! I’m real passionate about writing the Lone Wanderer in the Commonwealth for some reason. :3
I have so many drabbles of my LW meeting up with Elder Maxson and MacCready, it’s sad xD

Quick Warning! There will be spoilers for Fallout 3.)

There was a slight breeze as MacCready sat down on a bench that Sole had built. He took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Sole sat beside him and he glanced at him.

That’s when he heard a very loud gasp. He looked in the direction of the sound and saw an older looking person, probably around 30. They looked a bit familiar, but he wasn’t going to say anything about it.

They walked over and MacCready was confused. Then he noticed that they were wearing a blue jumpsuit. A Vault suit, but it was a bit different looking from Sole’s.

“Mayor MacCready? Is that you?” They asked and he just stared blankly at them.

“Who are you?” He asked them and they smiled.

“It’s me. The ‘mungo’ you wanted to stone back in Little Lamplight. The one that went into Vault 87.”

He slowly started to remember. This was the Lone Wanderer! The one he met in Little Lamplight. He was surprised. He didn’t expect to see them ever again after they left the Capital Wasteland.

“Looks like you’re a ‘mungo’ now, as well,” they replied and messed up his hair. He glared at them and they just chuckled softly. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend here?”

MacCready looked at Sole and then turned back to Lone. “This is Sole. I’m, uh, their hired gun.”

Lone held their hand out for Sole to shake. After they had their handshake, Lone hugged the mercenary.

“You’ve grown so much! I’m remember you being a little shorty in Little Lamplight. Now you’re all grown up! It makes me feel as old as I am,” Lone said and wiped their eyes, “I can’t believe it’s been ten years. Ten years!”

“Yeah, it’s been a long time,” MacCready answered, feeling a bit awkward talking to Lone after all this time.

“So much has changed. Do you still call adults ‘mungos’?”

“No, I don’t.”

Lone grinned and hugged MacCready once again. The twenty-nine year old had a few tears fall down their face.

They stepped back and wiped their eyes on their sleeve. “Sorry, I’m probably just making you uncomfortable. Well, I was going to head over to the Brotherhood’s base out here. I want to see if anyone from the Citadel is there.”

“That’s not the greatest idea. Everyone there is an assh-I mean-jerk.”

“Why are you cutting off your cuss words? You used to say ‘fuck’ every two seconds.”

“I made a promise to someone I care about.”

Lone smiled a bit wider than they were. “Is it your wife or whatever?”

“No, she’s gone.”

A sad look appeared on Lone’s face. They didn’t say anything, but they understood what it was like. They had lost their father and few other friends along the way.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that. Is this person you care about Sole here?”

“It’s my son.”

“You have a son? That’s great! Can I meet him?”

“No, he’s back in the Capital Wasteland.”

“Ah. I’m sure he’s in good hands.”

MacCready nodded. “I think Sole wants to get back on the road. It was nice seeing you again. If you plan stay in the Commonwealth, then you can stay here.”

“Thank you for the offer, but I need to head to someplace that needs me. I’ve been listening to the Diamond City radio and I heard a lot of the things Sole has done. The Commonwealth doesn’t need me, but I’ll find somewhere else that does. Goodbye, MacCready.” Lone gave him a smile and started to move on.

(Okay, so I feel like this kinda wasn’t the best drabble I’ve done. I had to delete half of it and start over, because I was just rambling on. This consists of a lot of dialog, which I normally don’t have that much in the others. Anyway, if you see any errors or anything, I’d be glad if you would tell me. :3)

Promise (AO3)

Five promises Dean made and five promises Dean kept.

Six.

“Dean, honey?” Mary calls from the kitchen. “We’re going over to meet the new neighbours and I hear they have a little boy the same age as you. Do you want to meet him?”

“Yes!” Dean yells, as he sprints down the stairs nearly tripping on the last step. He’d been spying on the new neighbours from his treehouse since the first day they arrived next door. Most of it was boring. Just people taking things into the house and coming back out to collect more stuff. But he had spied the little boy wandering around the front garden. In an instant Dean had decided that they were going to be best friends.

“I’m glad to hear it. Now I’m going to go grab your father and brother and we’ll head right on over.” Mary says, ruffling his hair.

In just five minutes Dean is bounding up the stairs of the Novak’s new house and rapping excitedly at the door. He waits for a moment, impatiently tapping his foot against the porch, but then the door is swinging open and he’s greeted by a tall woman.

“Oh, Mary, John. Come in, come in.” the woman says, motioning them in the door way. “It’s nice to finally meet the rest of your family.” she says, her eyes flicking between Dean and Sammy up in his mother’s arms. This must be Mrs Novak, Dean thinks.

“Of course. It’s lovely to meet the rest of your family too. And if I’ve heard right, I think our little Dean here is excited to make a new friend.” Mary replies.

“Oh, yes! My little rugrat is in the living room just down the hall if you wanted to say hi.” Mrs Novak says, bending down to Dean’s level.

“Thank you, Mrs Novak.” he says quickly before dashing off down the hall. When he gets there, he pokes his head around the corner and is immediately met with large blue eyes.

“Who are you?” the boy asks.

“I’m Dean. I live next door.” he replies.

“Hello Dean.” A beat.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Castiel.”

“Cassiel.”

“No, Cas-ti-el.”

“Cas-di-el?” the boy shakes his head, a small smile gracing his lips. “Cas? Can I call you Cas then?” The boy tilts his head. A beat.

“Okay.” the boy replies.

“Do you wanna come and see my treehouse?” Dean asks.

“Yes, I would like that.” Cas responds, and then they are up and out of the house in an instant. They spend the next hour up in Dean’s treehouse talking aimlessly and playing with his figurines.

Eventually, Mrs Novak calls out, telling Cas that he has to come home now.

“I have to go, but I had fun. Bye Dean.” Cas says, walking over to the ladder.

“Wait.” Cas’ head flicks around, wide eyes staring at Dean.

“What is it?”

“Do you want to be friends?” Dean asks, tugging at the sleeves of his shirt.

“Yes, I would love to be your friend.”

“Okay, good. Cause I promise that we’ll be best friends forever.”

Dean and Castiel both smile for the rest of the day.

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