shout at the radio

Script Format: Action/Description

In a screenplay, the action/description sets the scene, describes the setting, introduces characters, and set the stage for your story.

Example: excerpt from the unproduced draft of Seven (1992)

Format:
-Action appears after the scene heading. It is left aligned, single spaced, and mixed case.
-It is written in present tense, active voice, and in as few words as possible.
-Action should be no longer than 4-5 lines at a time.
-When introducing a speaking character for the first time, put the name in all caps.
-Capitalize specific sounds in the action. (Radio, door slam, shouting, etc.)

Content:
-The action describes what can be seen on screen. Do not describe thoughts or what happened off screen unless it can be shown. (For example:You can’t say a character arrives home after a lunch out with friends. You need to show it via visuals, action, or dialogue. The character could be holding leftover food from a restaurant or tell another character about the lunch.)
-You can use the action to describe a new setting or character.
-Describe what is important in a scene, nothing more. Call attention to important details that give the setting or characters personality. For example:

“THOMAS (34), stands in the middle of the pristine, unfurnished foyer in muddy jeans and a tattered shirt.”

“Gabby (8) sinks into her seat in the back of the classroom. All eyes are on her bright purple Mohawk.”

-You can get fancy by having the action transition to another scene. You could say, for example:

“Suddenly, Maya bolts from behind her desk and runs out into:

INT. DRISKILL HOTEL HALLWAY - DAY”

-Avoid putting dialogue in the action. You can put generalizations about crowds (such as “Rosa pushes her way past a jeering crowd”) but specific dialogue should not be in the action.
-Do NOT write camera angles or shots unless absolutely necessary! It’s the directors’ and cinematographers’ jobs to visually interpret the script.

*Note: There are definitely screenwriters (especially famous ones) out there that break these content “rules.” But they can afford to break the rules. When starting out, you should follow the rules until you can prove to people you know your stuff.

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mikeyvonair: Shout out to @niallhoran saying I have “the perfect radio voice” he is hangin in the show tonight at 9 on @kiss108

“What happened?” Jaal asks, barely keeping the question from becoming a demand.

“Oh, well, long story short, our date night got cancelled because Peebee decided my time was better spent in a fucking volcano.”

What.” 

(Jaal/Gemma Ryder, spoilers for both Jaal and Peebee’s loyalty missions, as well as the Jaal romance.) 

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One of the Ways - Peter Quill/Star Lord Imagine

Word Count: 1619

Rating: PG

Warnings: kissing, fluff, indirect confessions, sparring!

Summary: You and Peter have bonded quite closely, since both of you were from Terra. However, a friendly bet turned competition can change a few things.

Word Count: 1619


You never planned on being away from so long. Earth wasn’t that bad of a place. It was just dull. And that’s coming from someone who was born there. You wanted a more interesting life, and boy, did you get what you wanted.

The Guardians of the Galaxy, your team and family. Nothing was ever dull with them. Even when there was nothing to save or protect, your friends always seemed to make things more interesting.

Gamora, Rocket, and Groot were discussing something. Peter Quill was listening to music, and you and Drax were exchanging some fighting techniques.

“I just look around for the best thing to hit them with,” you shrugged.

Drax stared at you. “Hitting someone with a pipe doesn’t do much. Punching them in the face does.”

You shook your head. “Sorry, Drax, but not all of us rely on pure muscle.”

“I don’t rely on pure muscle. I rely on food, sleep, and-”

“It’s an expression, Drax.” You laughed.

“I still don’t think you could handle yourself with just mere logic.”

“Of course she can,” Raccoon stated. “She could even take Quill down!”

“Down where?” Drax asked.

Gamora shook her head. “It’s an expression. It means that (Y/n) can beat Peter in a fight.”

Drax dragged his finger across his throat. “Like this then?”

“No!” you shouted. You shook your head. “Not like that. At all. What she means to say is that in a fight, I would win. Without death, just a surrender or immobilizing him for more than a few seconds.”

Rocket shrugged. “She’d win.”

“I agree that (Y/n) will win this duel where no one dies.”

Peter removed his headphones and gasped. “Nice to see you guys have faith in me. I, personally, think I would win.”

“Ha!” Rocket shouted.

Drax just stared at him. “Why are you laughing?”

“Sarcasm, Drax!” the raccoon stated.

Suddenly, the small plant, Groot, spoke up in a squeaky voice, “I am Groot.”

“A bet?” Rocket asked. he picked up the pot and stared at it.

“I. Am Groot.”

“Ten units on her?” Rocket looked at the plant surprised. “Fine. Fifteen units on (Y/n).”

“We’re betting on this?” Peter took off his headphones.

“No, we are not!” you protested.

Drax raised his hand. “I put fifteen units on (Y/n).”

Peter’s jaw dropped. “Seriously. Fine. Fifty units on me.” He stared at the green-skinned woman. “Gamora? Come on. Help me out here?”

“Ten.” Gamora smirked. “Ten on (Y/n).”

Peter groaned. “Oh come on!”

You shrugged. “Too bad, no one will be winning or losing the bet. I’m not doing it.”

“Neither am I,” stated Peter. “I don’t want to do that to her and embarrass my entire team.”

You blinked. “Do what?”

“Completely humiliate you in front of our team. It just… it doesn’t seem fair.”

Your jaw dropped. “Get ready to lose your money, Quill.”

Peter smiled deviously. “It’s on.”

Twenty minutes later you were clad in some old leggings, sports bra, and fingerless gloves. You were warming up in your corner. Next to you was Gamora, who was nodding in approval. “Just don’t lose.”

You scoffed. “See what I’m up against?” You nodded to the man at the other side of the room, the man was currently being cut off multiple times by a dancing tree.

You smirked. “I got this.”

You faced Peter Quill, your fist raised in front of you. Gamora stated the rules, “No rules. Do whatever it takes to win.”

“That’s not fair,” you argued. “Do you want me to knock him out?”

“I’m right here, (Y/n)!” Peter reminded you.

Groot waved his arms around. “I am Groot.”

Rocket exclaimed, “What! No weapons? That sucks the fun out of everything.”

“I’m good with no weapons,” Peter agreed. He eyes the many heavy objects that you could lift and use against him.

You scoffed. “Fine.”

You barely heard Gamora start the round. Peter lunged for you. You easily evaded his attack by stepping to the side and pushing him to the ground. “I like no weapons.”

Peter grunted in discomfort. “You know what?” He took you by surprise. Somehow, he flipped the two of you over and laughed. “I like no weapons, too.”

You growled. Blow after blow, neither of you seemed to have the upper hand. Peter didn’t have rocket blasters of his handy guns. You weren’t allowed to use the discarded items around the ship, like that conveniently placed pipe in the corner of the room. However, you had many tricks up your sleeve. Peter was too impulsive.

Finally, you had him against the wall, holding his arm behind his back. “Ready to surrender, Quill.”

“Not just yet.” The man hooked his foot behind your leg and tripped you. You fell on your back.

Peter leaned over, ready to pin your to the ground.

You rolled over, narrowly missing his next move. You stood up. For a split second, you paused to think out your next few moves.

With all the energy spent on strategy and actually defending yourself, your brain drawn up a complete blank. Before you could block an incoming punch, Peter pushed you to the wall, his elbow lightly pressed against your throat. “Got anything smart to say now, hm?”

Blinking furiously, you fought the urge to grab the thing nearest to you and knock him out. There was a compact, heavy-looking machine on the shelf nearby. Thinking back to all of your years on Earth, you rattled your brain for any advice you could use. Then, it hit you. You could practically hear the light switch go on.

You licked your lips. “You’d be surprised.” Leaning forward, you pressed your lips against his.

Peter was shook, his eyes wide open. He tried to ignore your lips that were constantly pressing against his own. He needed to win this! He had it in the bag. His elbow was at your throat! But, he couldn’t help it.

The elbow at your throat was lowered. You smiled against his lips and kissed him harder. Despite the fact that this kiss was just a way to get the upper hand, you, admittedly, lost yourself. Kissing Peter Quill… it was the best feeling you’ve ever felt. Better than when you left Earth and all the weight of your burdens was released. it was better than realizing you could take care of yourself and not have to rely on anyone. It was better than finding your team, your friends, and realizing that you are able to rely on yourself and rely on them as well.

Your fingers threaded through his hair, pulling and tugging. His hands found your hips and pulled them closer to him.

You gasped in surprise, making you remember your plan. You smiled and kissed him harder. You reached down and rested your hands on his.

Then, you tripped him. Peter landed on the mat with a slight thud. Easily, you straddled his hips, held his hand above his head, and smirked.  You counted down from ten.

Peter, unexpectedly, did nothing. He just stared at you or, more specifically, your lips.

The count hit zero.

Cheers erupted from the team.

You tilted your head, feeling pride well up in your chest. “Got anything to say now, huh, Quill?”

He blinked. “Me? Ha! All I need to say is that I let you win.”

You scoffed. “And lose fifty units for it?”

Rocket leaped onto his chest. “Speaking of which, I believe you still owe us fifty.”

The team, except for Peter and you, were celebrating their newfound wealth. You were celebrating with them, but Peter needed a co-pilot.

“You fought well,” you stated.

Peter cleared his throat. “As did you. Does seduction count as a weapon?”

You rolled your eyes and punched him playfully. “Shut that mouth, Quill. It was just a strategic move. Nothing more,” you blurted out. Once those words left your mouth, you instantly regretted it. Not because you thought you’d hurt his feelings in any way, but because you knew you were lying to yourself. Sure, that’s how it started, but you longed to feel those lips against yours again.

You glanced at Peter, and he seemed a bit tense. Squared shoulders. Clenched jaw, white knuckles. You stared at your lap.

“Well, if that’s the only way I can get you to kiss me, maybe we should spar more?” he suggested.

You stared at him, surprised. However, Peter was focused on driving the Milano. He never turned to face you. You smiled a little. “Well, I’m sure there are other ways to get me to kiss you again.”

Peter Quill smirked. “Can you tell me these ways?”

You shrugged. “You’re Star Lord, leader of the Guardians of the Galaxy. I’m sure you could figure it out.”

“(Y/n)!” Gamora shouted. “Rocket’s taking apart your radio!”

You groaned and got up. However, the door to the next room shut. You whipped around. “Pete-” The said Star Lord was right in front of you, his lips set in a devious smile. “Well, first off, I can get you a new radio. Second, do you think if I put Milano on autopilot, and, I don’t know,” he grasped your hips and pulled you closer, “this.” He leaned down, his lips only inches from yours. “Do you think these could be one of the ways to get you to kiss me?”

You smiled. “Promise me a radio, and I’ll answer.”

“I promise you a new radio.”

“Good.”

Your lips met his, and that spark you felt before appeared once again. With a smile and giddiness, you pulled away slowly. “You should discover more ways to get me to kiss you.”

“Trust me. I will.”


Hey, guys! it’s been a while. So sorry for the hope I gave. I was pulled into babysitting some kids, and I love those kids! So, so so sorry about that. Anyway, hope you like it!

Can’t help | l.h

Originally posted by 5sospicturesque

Prompt: Loosely based on the song Can’t help falling in love

Word count: 1,829

A/N: So much fluff you might die


I walked in to see her in nothing but my worn out t-shirt and panties. She was jamming out to some weird remix playing on the radio, shouting her made up lyrics off-key. I couldn’t keep in my chuckle as she excitedly rocked her air guitar and whipped her hair like she was a rockstar from the 70s. I made my way to the kitchen and wrapped my arms around her energetic body, making her jump a little.

“Luke. You scared me to death dude.” She breathed, getting tired from her previous “rock show”.

“When will you stop calling your boyfriend dude?” I chuckled, pressing my lips to her sweaty forehead.

“Never.” She poked her tongue out teasingly while running away from my grasp. I shook my head at her childlikeness before rushing towards her, scooping her up and throwing her down onto the couch.

“Alright Titch. I still need to work on some stuff, but I’ll come down soon and help you with dinner okay?” I pecked her pouty lips before walking to my office.

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anonymous asked:

bellarke, 8

sorry this took so long, anon!! school and homework absolutely kicked my ass this weekend and then i had a major case of writer’s block, so thanks for your patience darling <3

bellarke + 8. oh my god, i thought you were going to die. please don’t ever scare me like that again.

Clarke is perfectly relaxed until her radio crackles to life.

She hears Bellamy’s voice coming from it - garbled, but clear enough that she can distinctly make out the words, “Come in, Clarke.” Panic seizes her, because Bellamy wouldn’t be trying to contact her unless something was wrong.

She fumbles for the radio, fingers trembling so much that she has a hard time unhooking it from her belt. “Come in, Clarke,” Bellamy says again, and the urgency in his voice terrifies her.

“Bellamy, what’s wrong?” she says into the radio. He doesn’t answer right away, but she hears a harsh sound in the background, a dull roar. “What the hell is that noise?”

A crackle, and then: “Black rain.”

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Sweet Caroline (Dean Winchester X Reader)

The drives to different places could get pretty boring, especially if it was just music playing in the Impala because Dean refused to talk.

It was late at night, Sam was passed out in the passengers seat due to an unfulfilled sleep the night before, and you were in the backseat trying to use the dim street lamps as a light source so you could see the book you were reading.

Dean kept his hands gripped tight on the steering wheel, focusing on the road as he listened to your soft groans of boredom. “Instead of torturing me with silence, can you please put some form of music on?” You whispered, careful not to wake Sam.

“You’re still awake? You were out cold like an hour ago” Dean muttered, looking at you through the rear view mirror. “I was never asleep, Dean” you grumbled before he scoffed. “Whatever. Yeah, let’s listen to some music” he spat under his breath, obviously annoyed that he had been driving for so long

You sprawled yourself over the leather interior of the Impala, listening to the familiar beat that always made you happy. The same tune that would always get stuck in your head after just listening to it once.

“Oh please, not this song!” Dean groaned as you gasped, sitting up from your crazy position. “Dean come on! Who doesn’t love Neil Diamond?” You asked, snaking your arms around the front seat to hold his shoulders and gently rock his body into excitement.

“This song is overrated!” Dean said before you began to sing along.

“Where it began, I can’t begin to knowing But then I know it’s growing strong Was in the spring Then spring became the summer Who’d have believed you’d come along”

“You seriously know the words? I thought you were better than this, (Y/N)!” Dean cried before you scoffed. “Come on, Dean! I know you want to sing along!” You smiled, before laughing as he fought the urge to sing along, but he finally caved in.

“Sweet Caroline!”

“Dun! Dun! Dun! Dean added, along with banging his hands on the steering wheel which made you laugh even harder, before Sam let out a loud groan before slamming his fist against the off button on the radio.

“Shut up!” Sam shouted, retracting his hand before curling up into a ball and shutting his eyes. “That was fun” you whispered, retracting yourself back into your seat, and lying back down, using one of your many jackets as a blanket. “Good night Dean” you softly spoke before he smiled. “Good night (Y/N)” he responded quietly, continuing to look at the road.

As you were falling asleep, you couldn’t help but hear the soft hums of Sweet Caroline coming from Dean. You began to quietly laugh before his eyes darted to the rear view mirror. “What?” He asked. “Is that song so overrated now?” You giggled as he scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Go to sleep” he muttered under his breath before you smiled to yourself and closed your eyes, as Dean continued to hum Neil Diamond, all night long.

Originally posted by stetsonsalvatore

5

Sketch Random + Fanfic Translation.

Translation by: @miguelcool2000


A One-shot follow up story to the comic “Random Sketch”

Title: “If he just…”

“Kill him”

For a second, that idea crossed her mind while her finger trembled over the trigger of her gun.

Her heart would beat painfully inside her chest, suffocating her, the purest and most gruesome hatred was born within her being, rising like hot lava in her esophagus and choking her throat.

The bovine laughed maniacally in front of her , twisting and bending, mocking at what the act one of his henchman had accomplished.

She looked at Nick’s body lying still on the floor, blood starting to form a puddle around his figure.

Judy fought back her own tears.

-          Oh, come on, lieutenant Hopps, don’t tell me you really care for that piece of scum.- Del Toro stated in an annoyingly fancy manner and licking his own lips while stressing each word.

“Kill him!”

-          Shut up! – She rose her voice using all her will not to pull the trigger in that very moment.

“Just kill him at once!”

She heard again her own voice in rage trying to impose its actions. But she couldn’t. She was a police officer, a Lieutenan . She couldn’t let her emotions be shown so easily.

-          Anyway, who’s gonna miss such a scumbag loser like him? It’s a fox, a species that is just a plague to this world…

That was the last straw. How did he dare to say that? What did he know about foxes? What the hell did he know about nick?

“Kill him!”

This time she would follow her instinct.

-          You son of a…

-          Judy, don’t! – shout a voice she thought she was never going to hear again and turned around, her eyes meeting the fox’s looking back at her from the ground, his own shining with an emerald glow, trying to communicate thousands of thoughts, since shouting has left him exhausted – …you are better than that… dumb bunny… - murmured the vulpine with a weak voice and lost consciousness in consequence.

-          Nick!

-          Lieutenant Hopps! – exclaimed a gray hare getting close at full speed while followed by a group of mammals. He went towards his female counterpart whereas the other officers cuffed Del Toro. –Are you ok?

Wilde had interfered at the right time. He have saved her from doing something stupid. She could barely see the metallic cuffs around the ex-politician’s hooves and without even answering to her subordinate she hurried herself next to Nick.

-          Just if you hadn’t save him that day at the court, that idiot would have died long ago and you would live a simple life and I would have everything I ever wanted! – She heard the claiming of the furious criminal, but she ignored him.

-          Nick? … Can you hear me? … Hey Nick, Nick! She said without getting an answer. She remembered the first aid course and pressed her trembling paws against the wound. She had to do something, she had to stop all that blood, but the hemorrhage didn’t seem to stop. – Savage!

-          The ambulance is on its way lieutenant. – He claimed as he checked the fox’s vitals. - You’d better hurry. His heartrate is declining hastily. – He shout over the radio on his shoulder.

A few seconds later the sirens could be heard.

-          Listen to me Lieutenant Hopps – said one of the caribous who checked the one with the emerald eyes – Don’t stop pressing, the wound is in a critical state and your paws are the only thing that keeps him alive at this moment. So, until we can make it to the hospital, don’t let go. Understood?

She nodded and the paramedics performed some maneuvers in order to get them both inside the ambulance.

Everything else was blurry in her mind when she less expected it, she was already sat on one of the enormous chairs in the waiting room of the Memorial Hospital Zootopia.

-          You should take a break – claimed Jack Savage forgetting the formalities, after all despite she being his superior, they were old childhood friends. He offered her some coffee.

-          No. I’m not leaving until I know he’s fine… - answered Judy while accepting the bitter drink.

-          The surgery they are performing will at least take another 10 hours and we still have to prepare the reports of the case – but she didn’t move an inch.

-          I can’t leave him – her eyes filling with guilt.

Jack stared at her intensively and sighed – Well, at least go take a shower, your clothes are a mess.

She was about to refuse again when the one with the blue irises interrupted her.

-          Go to my apartment – he held the keys in front of her – it’s conveniently located just  a few blocks from here, it won’t take more than 30 minutes, I’ll stay here and will call you in case anything happens. OK?

She doubted a little, but ended up accepting and headed to the house of her once neighbor and younger brother’s best friend.

As if she were a zombie, she crossed streets and every mammal she came across stared at her covered in blood, which caused some of the predators to have problems with their collars so she hurried her steps.

She made it to Jack’s place and went straight to the bathroom, she looked at herself in the mirror and became horrified, Nick’s blood was everywhere, her hands, face, clothes, her badge…

In a frenzy, she took off the clothes and quickly went inside the cold water pouring down from the shower since the blood was already dried. Otherwise, it would be harder to wash it from her fur.

Damn it!

How had she let that situation end like it did?

She strongly punched the wall, her knuckles went numb due to the pain.

-          Damn it! - She yelled with rage. She was at her limit, and couldn’t keep enduring her own feelings any longer.

She allowed herself to cry. She cried out of powerlessness, anguish, fury, pain and fear.

She cried for Nick Wilde, a predator, a fox, who she had unrightfully called a murderer and turned out to be the most noble, and kindest of the creatures; someone who was just trying to make his dreams come true and help others with their own.

Someone she labeled as untrustworthy and became my only ally. Someone she came to fear, but now felt a deep regard for to unsuspected levels; because he had earned through all means a very special place in her heart.

Those things she had tried to forget due to the involving circumstances that created a barrier between them. But all those circumstances had vanished the moment she saw him falling hurt, all her prejudice disintegrated in an instant.

Sincerely, what made them different from each other?

Being pray and predator?

A fox and a rabbit?

Male and female?

Though that could be said, that wasn’t what really made them different.

The only thing that could draw that line, where the obedience collars. Those damn collars. She felt embarrassed of the fact that she once thought those artifacts were the best invention in history.

She was wrong. The whole society and she were wrong. It was just a horrible tool to keep the divisions between pray and predator, the generator of an endless cycle of hatred.

Something that wasn’t necessary at all as predators weren’t some insensible beasts. Those things only took away that which thousands of mammals presumed to have granted them, their freedom.

And Nick had been the one to teach her that. He had shown her a whole new world, a cruel image and a beautiful reality of which was actually wrong.

And how did she pay him back?

By letting someone with his own stupid ambitions shoot him right to the heart.

Did she really deserved to carry a badge if she tolerated that the innocent were victims of such atrocities? Not if he died, it would just be a terrible confirmation.

A chill went down her spine.

Nick could really die any second and she was standing there dumbfounded thinking about stuff that didn’t matter in that precise moment.

She shook her head franticly and crouched in the shower.

-          He’s not going to die…- she told herself.

After bathing herself, she turned off the faucet, put on some of Savage’s clothes and hurried back to the hospital.

She made it back faster than she took to leave.

-          Jack. – She called the name of the gray bunny as she made her way to where he was sitting.

-          There aren’t any news yet. – He claimed as he jumped down from the elephant size chair.

-          Good, thanks for the shower, I’ll give these back – she pointed to the black outfit from the ZPD she was wearing – tomorrow. Is that OK?

-          Sure. You know you can give them back anytime.

Five hours passed without any of them saying a word. Hours in which Judy’s heart never stopped beating painfully and aguishly in her chest, just expecting to get some news on the fox’s health.

Her friend’s phone broke the silence that reigned in the waiting room, after all they were in the most desolated wing of the hospital.

The hare with the sapphire colored eyes stepped outside to take the phone call and came back a few minutes later.

-          It was Captain McHorn, he says Superintendent Bogo has given Del Toro’s case top priority, and he wants us to write the reports as soon as…

-          You should go to the precinct first, I’ll call the boss and write the report later.

-          Alright. Do you want me to get your laptop from the office?

-          If you could, please.

-          Ok. Then, I must take my leave. I’ll come back later. Cheer up Jude, that fox is gonna make it – he called her as when they were kids while he smiled at her and pressed her shoulder – excuse me Lieutenant Hopps  - he straightened up before departing and she nodded.

Each minute seemed like an eternity, she looked at the clock on the wall, 4:15 am. The 10 hours Jack had calculated the surgery would last had already passed, but there was no signs of any doctor so far.

As soon as that thought hit her, the red light on the sign “Surgery in process” turned off and an elephant came through the sliding doors.

-          Nicholas Wilde’s family? – He asked as on cue and the lieutenant immediately got close.

-          He has no family, I’m his tutor. - She claimed showing her badge. - How is he doing?

-          He lost a lot of blood, the bullet pierced an important artery and got stuck in a difficult area to operate, he also suffered two heart attacks while on surgery, but we could resuscitate him. The surgery has been a success. We will take him to Intensive Therapy and he will have to stay in observation for the next days, and depending on his evolution we’ll be able to transfer him to a private room.

Her heart burst with joy.

-          May I see him? – She asked after listening attentively to the doctor.

-          Of course, but it must not be more than a few minutes.

-          Thanks doctor.

-          Don’t worry. I’ll tell the nurse in charge the instructions so you can see him, I’m leaving now.

Hopps brought her hands to her chest and squeezed them against herself, shedding another couple of tears, but this time she cried out of relief.

Thank goodness he was still alive.

-          Thanks. Thanks. – She repeated while crouching.

She never thought the day she would be happy to hear the beeping of a vital signs monitor, because it gave her the certainty that, though a bit weak and paused, Nick Wilde’s heart kept beating.

She sat on the booth near the hospital bed, which to her fortune was the right size for the vulpine species.

With some fear, she took his paw between hers, squeezing it gently, trying not to hurt him nor messing with the tubes with saline solutions that were plugged into him.

She admired his red-haired face and noticed how exhaust and haggard he appeared to be, also his fur seemed a bit pale somehow, and she felt a deep sorrow to see him in that state.

She infinitely thanked the fact that by medical procedure the collar that slaved him had to be removed.

-          Thanks for staying alive. Thank you for saving me…

Had he died, she would have gone and killed the son of a bitch who shot him with her own hands. If Nick hadn’t stopped her, she would have become into a murderer. If he had stopped existing, she wouldn’t care about anything anymore.

But he was still here, in the same world as her, and from that moment on she swore that she would do anything within her power and even more to make his dream come true.

To create a world where anyone can be anything they want to be.

However, she knew it wouldn’t be easy, but it didn’t matter. If he just stayed by her side to fight for it, the time they would take to achieve it wouldn’t matter.

After all, she didn’t need anything else but him.

-          …Carrots?…

The End

Toast

Short (2000 word) fic taking place after SR2. 

BossGat, domestic, cute. No plot this time just Johnny and the Boss!

Boss wakes up to the smell of burnt toast. They do not remember if they dreamt. They lie back in bed and stare up at the ceiling, a blank white canvas marred only by a couple of bullet holes. Not enough to spoil the place. The bed they’re in could sleep three, but right now it’s just them, the man who should be lying behind them is too busy in the kitchen, burning toast.

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Imagine not wanting to tell your fiancé Jamie that you were injured on the job

(A/N: For @samanthaofanarchy . I hope you enjoy this. Sorry, it took me so long but I made it extra long for you and for making everyone wait for so long. Expect a Sonny request in the next few days to make up for the all the long breaks. I hope you all enjoy!) 

Imagine not wanting to tell your fiancé Jamie that you were injured on the job

“Come here…” You shouted after your fleeing suspect.

Your suspect then quickly turned and slashed at you thoughtlessly.

You jumped back automatically and missed it by inches. You stumbled slightly on the rocky surface. You looked up after milliseconds of getting your bearings, you looked up only to find your knife wielding suspects coming for you once again. You delivered a swift punch that caused him to back up but it was momentary, he came at you again but you blocked his hand quickly holding it above your heads and struggled violently for a few seconds. He pushed hard and so did you in defence. He let out what sounded like a growl before kicking your legs causing you to stumble again.

And this time when you looked up you didn’t have time to dodge the knife. It slammed into your torso and ripped your skin.

“Son of a bitch,” You cried as you clutched your side as he retracted the knife.

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2

A/N: I listened to “California High” by Billy while writing this because it’s kinda accurate. You go do it too, that song is pure pleasure.

Words: 1163
Warnings: danger of having an eargasm, pain of separation

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I know @chancellor-reyes said something about something like this in her headcanon post and i HAD to do it tonight

Day 731 (Read it on AO3)

Bellamy is sitting alone in her old cell when it happens. 

It’s been two years as of yesterday and he’s palming the one and only bottle of alcohol left on the ark. The one he saves for the anniversary of leaving her behind. But where he’s promised himself only one shot of the hard liquor a year, he now stares at a half-empty glass. 

Last year was fine. Yesterday too. But today was the worst it’s been for a while. And he’s been trying to drown out the sound of her voice all day. Trying to drown out the sound of his other broken promise, this one to Abby two years ago, still echoing in his head.

Take care of each other.

To make sure nothing would happen to her.

And he told her he would.

And he fucking left her.

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Rescue with Vengeance

Note#1: this is NOT FLUFF I repeat NOT FLUFF!! I had an idea, an idea that became twisted and violent!

Note #2: As the halfas grew stronger, so did the bridge. Now, Life and Death could hold a tangible presence in the other’s realm.

Warning: Death

The GIW, the US government’s paranormal division, budget was tripled. As a result Amity park’s ghost sightings dropped, completely. Valery stared at the screen. There was nothing. She didn’t know what to do. Everything she’d normally do was out the window: can’t hunt ghosts, can’t hang out with Dani, and she can’t even take it all out on Phantom… Dani. Val hoped the girl made it out before the GIW started rounding them up. This was all so wrong! They even got Mr. Masters! This had been the worst week since her dad lost his job, but it didn’t just affect her. The Fentons still had their inventing, but they were still hunters at heart. Val hadn’t seen Danny all week….
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Pain erupted in his chest. Vlad almost didn’t feel it, not after he saw Daniel in the hall, broken and bleeding…
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Death heard her children’s cries. Ghosts were often hunted, often hurt, but never like this. And never before had anyone ever laid a hand on her bridge. The living had never before experienced Death’s wrath. They were about to.
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“There’s a breach in sector fou–” the agent’s shout cut off with the sickening crunch of bone. Messenger would come for him soon. More agents came, firing ecto-weapons at the ghost—weapons that could do nothing.

She cantered through the white walled building. Letting loose her power caused dark mists to flow and cover the bright evil. Her very presence gave energy to her children and they healed. Agents came to stand in her path, their last gaze falling into the violet glowing eyes of Death, before experiencing every horror dieing can offer. She sang no song to comfort them. No one harms Death’s children.
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Danny Phantom was strapped to another table. Scientists fluttered around deciding which experiments to perform today.Agent J was frustrated,he hated guard duty. Then, his radio went nuts. It shouted the gibberish of many yelling at the same time, then went silent.
There was a sharp crack, as dark lines appeared on the walls. J grabbed Phantom.
“What is this!” He slapped the apparition back onto the examination table, keeping one hand on its throat and the other pointing a gun at its head. Phantom laughed.
“Have you ever stared into the eyes of Death agent? I have, unblinking and without flinching” J didn’t have time to respond before the mist took him.