stop blinking

8

Fitzsimmons + reunions
↳ “Everything that keeps happening to us, does seem like the universe doesn’t want us to be together." 

Seventeen looking like that family Christmas card that took 4 hours to take cause despite their amazing stage synchronization, they couldnt get their shit together for ONE PHOTO

Victor’s eyes went wider, then wider still when he felt his body start to shift of its own accord, drawn to the strange siren. Yuuri thrust out an arm, keeping Victor back when his captain stood. “I said, he is not a gift!”

“You cannot intrude on another’s nest empty-handed. If you have nothing else, give me the human,” the siren repeated, tone steady and unchanged. “It’s been a while since I’ve eaten one, it’ll make a good meal.”

Whatever allure the voice had over Victor snapped. Likewise, Yuuri’s feathers flared back out, doubling in volume. Defensive. Intimidating. “He’s not a gift, he’s not a meal. He’s my mate!”

Finally, the siren’s expression changed, as miniscule as it was. He arched a thick eyebrow and his gaze shifted off Yuuri, direct to Victor. The survey he appeared to conduct was brief, sweeping from Victor’s hair down to his booted legs. Then back to Yuuri and his wings. “You’re in season… If he is your mate, why are you not mating?”

Victor watched how Yuuri’s toes shuffled in the sand, digging deep imprints in clear irritation.

“I’m trying to mate him, but I keep getting stopped! I brought him here to dance and mate in peace. Perhaps it was my unknowing discourtesy to come here, but you have intruded on a mating pair!”

The siren stopped completely. He blinked once and arched the second brow. “You’re serious… You’re going to mate with a human?”

“We’ve already mated.” Yuuri huffed.

A laugh came back, sounding sharp and loud, like one of their parrot’s back on board the ship. “Why would you do that?” the siren inquired, monotone glitching into disbelief. “What have you done to it? Enchanted it, made yourself a little pretty human toy? How odd.”

Victor saw the rage flare off Yuuri, his inked markings bursting into feathers, feet curling into claws, deep brown of his eyes burning red. Before Yuuri could tear the wings off the macaw like he had with the harpies, Victor stepped forward, but he barely had a chance to protest. “We’re–”

“Don’t speak! I shall not be addressed by a human.”

At the siren’s command, Victor’s mouth clamped shut, tongue choking him silent.

Yuuri exploded. 

Reaper: Chapter Two

His hand was warm.

Isa pulled me to my feet. “Just a second,” he said, scanning the area.

I didn’t feel dead. I could feel the wind on my skin and my heart hammering in my chest. My hands were trembling with adrenaline. That had to be a good sign.

“Kat,” Isa said, startling me. I had been staring at my hands so intently that I hadn’t noticed he was holding out his hand to me again.

“I’m not dead,” I informed him a bit giddily, taking his hand again.

Isa didn’t smile, but the corners of his eyes crinkled. “This way,” he said, pointing with his free hand. I looked, but he seemed to be pointing towards thin air.

He led me away from the broken highway and my silver car, wading through the faded brown grass. After about twenty yards he stopped and turned to me.

“I need you to think of a place,” he said, “Any place.”

My mind went blank. “Any place?”

“Anywhere. Visualize it in your mind. Got it?” I hesitated before nodding. “Good. Now we’re going to take one more step together.”

I looked at the grass before us. It didn’t look any different from any other patch of grass we’d passed. I drew a deep breath.

“Okay.”

“And go.”

As we stepped forward together, the air went…soft. Like a deep, thick mattress. Like holding an overripe peach in your hands and slowly pressing in your thumbs, letting them sink into it. Not hot or cold or anything like that. Just soft.

Less than a moment passed before the softness was gone; I didn’t even have time to blink. We were still standing in the grass by the highway. I could see my car close by and the mountains looming in the distance. But the edges of the mountains were vague and unclear, and the light that filtered through the clouds was tinted red, almost as though it was shining through rose-colored glass. More telling was the quiet. The wind had disappeared, and the grass was silent and still.

“You know,” Isa commented, “I think people usually choose somewhere other than the place they’re currently standing.”

“I panicked,” I responded, taking in everything around me, “Which seems to be my basic state of existence at this point.”

Unlike everything else, Isa seemed more real than ever. The basics were still the same: pale, ashy skin stretched tight over his body, white hair, and jet black eyes set deep in their sockets. His fingers and limbs were overly long for his body, and he was wearing a black hooded coat with loose sleeves, grey pants, boots, and a t-shirt with a vintage ad for spam.

However, his skin lacked the translucent quality it usually had, and his shadow -

“You have a shadow,” I blurted out, “You have a - the grass. You’re actually crushing down the grass.” I knelt down and confirmed for myself that yes, the grass could be pressed down, and then I turned around and thrust out my hand. The softness was waiting just feet behind me. “Where are we?”

“This is an inbetween place,” he replied, watching as I shuffled a few feet to the side and stuck out my hand again, “We needed somewhere safe to talk.”

I pulled my hand from the softness and tried again. “And the deserted highway wasn’t cutting it?”

Isa pressed his lips together. “It’s not humans that I’m worried about overhearing us.”

I paused mid thrust. “Oh.” The fear which had almost been forgotten in my wonder flared up.

“Here,” Isa said, and he took my hand again, leading me around whatever invisible portal we had passed through. Almost mindlessly I walked towards the car.

“Are we safe here, then?”

He shrugged. “Should be. I don’t think I was followed - there’s no good reason anyone would, really, I’m not a major player. But it’s not wise to talk about these things in the open on principle.”

We reached the car, and I stretched out my hand to touch it. It was solid under my fingers, but the numbers on the license plate were scrambled, changing every time I blinked. 

Isa stopped me as I went to open the driver’s side door.

"I just wanted to see if it would start,” I said.

Isa shook his head. “It might, but it’s not wise to go through any doors here. There’s no telling where you might end up.”

A little disappointed, I perched on the trunk instead, pulling up my legs and wrapping my arms around them. Isa stood before me, hands shoved in his pockets.

“So…” I started, Isa looking at me expectantly, “Are you an angel?”

Isa burst out laughing. It was an odd sound, out of place in the unnatural silence of the inbetween.

“No, and I wouldn’t let an angel hear you say that if I were you. Actually, it would probably be fine; most angels I’ve met are quite nice. But trust me, if you ever meet an angel, you’ll know it. People tend to fall over when they show up.”

“Okay, not an angel.” There went half the theories I’d ever read. “Then what are you? And don’t say a reaper.”

“I never really liked that name anyway,” he replied. He kicked the ground for a moment, thinking. “I’m the guardian of your soul. I’ve been with you since your soul first joined your body. I will ensure no one touches it until your life is complete.”

“…And when my life is complete?”

“I take your soul,” he answered nonchalantly, “ - Kat?”

I rolled off the car, running into the field, running towards the softness.

Maybe he wasn’t an angel after all. But there were other theories about the reapers.

“Kat?” he called after me, “I’m not taking your soul here and now.”

I stumbled to a stop in a panic. The grass all looked the same. Whatever gateway we’d walked through wasn’t marked by any kind of visual cue. I was effectively trapped.

“Maybe you’re not taking it now,” I said as I turned, arms tight by my sides, hands clenched, “but you’re going to.”

Isa walked towards me slowly, “That probably wasn’t the best way for me to phrase that.” I shrank away from him instinctively, and he sighed. “This would be easier if I was an angel. They’re good at explaining things. Can I try again?”

He waited until I nodded hesitantly.

“I’m the guardian of your soul. I was bound to you the moment your soul entered your body. While you live, I’ll protect your soul from harm. When your days are complete, I’ll carry your soul to its rest. I’m not going to kill you, consume your soul, drain your life force, steal your corporeal form,  keep you in a tortured disembodied state devoid of all sensation, or anything else of that kind.”

I stared at him. “That’s…really specific.”

“But you’re not running this time,” Isa noted.

“If you’re lying, I’m screwed anyway,” I retorted.

“Ah.” Isa’s body seemed to droop ever so slightly. “I liked it better when you just trusted me.”

“And I liked it better when I wasn’t afraid I was going crazy,” I snapped. I shut my eyes and paused, willing myself to breath deeply. “I’m tired. I’m stressed and exhausted and I have no clue what’s going on. You disappeared for two weeks and I didn’t even know reapers could do that, and now you’re talking and you touched me and I’m somehow not dead and we’re in a freaking alternate dimension or something and it’s just a bit much.”

“I didn’t intend to let things get this out of hand,” Isa admitted, “I only thought I’d be gone for a few hours at most.”

Finally, the question that had been burning in my chest for weeks. “What happened? Why did you leave?”

“There was a reaper who needed help. He and his human were being targeted, and they weren’t going to make it.”

“Are they okay?”

His face brightened a bit. “They are. The woman died and he was able to deliver her soul safely.”

“Your definition of a happy ending and mine are a little different,” I muttered, “What did they need protection from?”

Isa looked grim. “There are many beings who would want to misuse a human soul,” he said softly, “And there are others who would like nothing more than to see a reaper give into the temptation to take advantage of their charge. Some of these were attacking this reaper in the hope of either claiming the soul for themselves or, if nothing else, forcing the reaper into a position where he drew on the soul for power. I thought they’d back off once I came to his aid, but they fought until the end.”

Behind Isa’s shoulder, I saw something like a dark smudge on the horizon where the mountains met the sky. A horrible sense of wrongness settled in my gut.

“I didn’t mean to leave you for so long,” he continued, “And it shouldn’t -”

“Isa,” I interrupted, pointing urgently, “There’s something here.”

Isa turned to look. The smudge was getting larger. “No,” he said, “No no no no!” He grabbed my hand.

“We need to move now!” He took off across the field, dragging me behind him. We passed through the softness and the world shifted, the rosy light turning grey. We sprinted back to my car.

I looked back towards the mountains. I couldn’t see anything.

“Get in the car,” Isa ordered, and I hurried to do so. After buckling myself in, I looked up to see Isa pull out a gun.

“Drive home as fast as you can,” he said, ignoring my shock, “And don’t stop until I say so.” With that, he swung himself onto the roof of my car.

I turned on the car and made a U-turn, pressing the pedal to the floor. A minute later gun shots rang out, and I looked into the mirror to see something burst through the portal and hurtle down the broken highway in pursuit.

Mixtapes (Richie/Eddie)

Summary: Both Richie and Eddie are very fond of each other and often tease each other affectionately, especially Richie to Eddie. So Bill and Stan both play cupid, which results in swapping mixtapes for eachother.

Warning(s): Bad language, 13 year olds kissing (don’t read if you think its fucking weird?? bc its not), if you think this is me sexualising these cuties-don’t bother

Richie’s Mixtape to Eddie

Eddie’s Mixtape to Richie

A/N: Look at my children in love, PLEASE I highly recc listening to either of the mixtapes that are linked above^^? They are both very 70/80′s. btw I do requests? If anyone wants to hit me up an x reader or a ship in IT 2017 (or IT in general) I’ll be glad to do so?? don’t be shy

“Awe, Eds. Look at you.” Richie cooed teasingly, pinching Eddie’s slowly flushing cheek.

Eddie quickly began swatting at Richie’s hand, his eyebrows furrowed heavily and a frown on his lips, “Don’t touch me with your rotten hands, asshole!”

Richie ignored his protests and flinched away from his swats, moving his hand to now over his shoulders and pulling the smaller boys frame into his own side, a grin on his lips.  “You’re such a cutie, Eds.”

“No, No I’m fucking-”

“Both of you, shut up.” Stanley grumbles after rolling his eyes several times at the two.

Richie snapped his eyes at Stan, glaring through his coke bottle glasses, which only enhanced his eye size even more. He held Eddie closer, even with Eddie’s flushed cheeks he still squirmed lightly.

Stan sighs in relief and folds his arms as the group goes back to its usual discussion about the new random comic book of the week. Eddie couldn’t help but allow his heart to beat faster at Richie’s touch against his form, making him feel protected in his stronger grip. He couldn’t help but zone out as Richie begun to bicker that his comic book that he found was better than Stan’s.

Bill tilted his head, analysing Eddie as his eyes would flicker all over the place with his mouth gaping before closing every now and then and gulping. He knew that how he was acting wasn’t the norm for Eddie whenever Richie was like this, something was different. Not to mention that he had stopped struggling against Richie who wasn’t even holding Eddie tightly or forcing him in place.

Bill smiled a bit, as something clicked inside of his head- a plan. But he was going to need Stanley to help out.


That night, on the way home from their adventurous summer day- Bill was walking Eddie home as Stanley had taken Richie to a different route. Bill hummed a tune as he walked alongside his friend, grinning as he turned to look at him.

“So…”

Eddie looked at Bill, tilting his head, “So?”

“So, y-..you and Richie?”

“Yeah?” Eddie was confused, almost disgust in his voice- but Bill could see past the faux disgust.

“I saw how you were t-today, Eddie. Y-you were blushing.”

This again, only caused Eddie to heat up as his form became a flustered mess and he glared at Bill. “You would blush too if someone touched your arm!”

“N-no, I’d only b-blush if Bev touched my arm there.” Bill pointed out, “but in this instance, you blushed when Richie had his arm around you- as well when he pinched your cheek and called you a ‘cutie’, it’s quite obvious.”

Eddie snapped his head away, patting his fanny pack for reassurance for himself. “Whats your point?”

“My point? M=my point is that he’s flirting with you; y-you like him.”

“I don’t like him! And he isn’t flirting with me! He acts like that with everyone-”

Bill cuts Eddie off quickly, “E-Eddie, do you see him pinching any of our cheeks and calling us a ‘cutie’? He doesn’t put his arms a-around us or any of the shit he does for you, not to mention he calls you E-Eds and doesn’t have a nickname for any of us.”

“Okay Bill-”

“N-n..not to mention, he carries an extra i-inhaler around just incase you lose yours.”

Thats when Eddie’s breath hitches, feeling butterflies go crazy in his abdomen, adoration swirling and tugging at his heart strings. He could practically hear his heart in his ears loud and clear.

“He… he does?” Eddie whispers, his voice quivering a bit.

“Yeah, even though he knows that you don’t even need it anymore, because you know, gazebos and your Mom making your illness up and shit but- yeah.” Bill smiles, watching how the young boy was falling more and more in love.

Eddie then quickly holds his wrist, feeling his pulse; resulting his fingertips quivering from feelings how his heart was beating with happiness.

“Oh… I-I never knew that. He’s never told me…”

“That’s b-because you’ve never needed it, but he always has.”

Eddie bites his lip, “What a fucking, what- he’s a fucking dick.” Eddie protests, blushing bright as ever.

“Sure he is,” Bill chuckled, “But l-look, I wanna help you. I know when someone is in love when I see it.”

“How?” Eddie asked, neither denying his feelings or admitting.

“Well.. It i-involves music.”


Meanwhile, Stanley was grumbling to himself in annoyance and cursing Bill’s name for getting him into this situation with Richie Tozier. He didn’t want to do this, but Bill had promised to give him some candy as a reward if it goes well.

“So, Richie. I’m gonna make this quick as possible so I can just go home.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Richie asked with pure confusion, a single eyebrow furrowing and one raising.

“You like Eddie, Eddie likes you.” Stan started, his face full of boredom, “Can you just hurry up and tell him?”

Richie was shocked by his friend’s words at first, before smirking. “Hell yeah I like him, I tell him all the time.”

“I mean genuinely, you asshole.” Stan sighed, “Not as a joke or some shit, literally confess your fucking feelings to him or something.”

Richie rolls his eyes, not being fazed by the situation, “What makes you think I like him seriously? I’m not fucking gay-”

“It’s pretty fucking clear you like girls, after you telling us for the full day about the first time you ‘tickled your pickle’ to a random magazine that had huge boobs all over it. But you like guys too, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Stan spoke with a monotone voice, managing to not let any voice cracks slip.

Richie scoffed, “I don’t like him, he’s a friend and I like to tease him.”

“You tease him by calling him ‘cute’ and you give him a nickname, you don’t do it to anyone else. You like him, just admit it- no one is judging you.” 

Richie frowned, huffing a bit and rolling his eyes. “Well, what if I did? Whats your point and where are you going with this?”

Stan smirked, patting Richie’s back forcefully, causing him to stumble forward.

“What’s your taste in music like?”


The next day, both Richie and Eddie were walking to school together in perfect unison, both of them holding a tape in their pocket that held a variety of songs that the one had imagined for the other.

Richie gulped, for once actually nervous around Eddie. What would Eddie think of him? It was a fucking mixtape, it was Richie’s music taste. Would he even like it? Would he-

“Richie, here. I want you to have this.” Eddie cut off Richie’s thoughts, holding up a tape alike to Richie’s.

Richie blinked twice, stopping in his steps. The tape was all black and what seemed to be painted on with nail polish ‘Sucks to Suck’ on top of the tape. 

“I-it’s a mixtape.” Eddie mumbled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he felt flustered.

Richie stayed silent, slowly taking the tape, analysing it with soft eyes before looking up with confusion. He turned over the  mix tape to see ‘to Richie’ painted with the same shade of white but in smaller writing.

“You made one too?” He spoke quietly, his head tilted to the side which caused his dark brown hair to tilt too.

“What?”

“Look…” Richie dug into his pocket and pulled out his own black tape which had a sticker on it, saying ‘Gimmie head til’ I’m dead!’ on it, with writing scribbled onto the back saying ‘to Eds’ with a cheeky smiley face, “I made one too, here.” He handed it over.

Eddie’s eyes widened, blushing a bit as he took it from the glasses wearing boy and read over it- mentally scoffing at the sticker but he was in awe of the idea that both of them had somehow made a mixtape for the other.

“You too?” Eddie whispered in shock.

“Well, yeah- but it wasn’t my idea.”

“It wasn’t mine either.” 

Richie quickly smirked, rolling his eyes, “They fucking set us up.”

“Who? Bill? Because it was Bill’s idea for me-” Eddie began to ramble on.

“It was Stan’s idea for me.”

Eddie then stopped, sighing with a grin- poking his tongue in his cheek. “Fuck, that makes sense.”

Both look at each other with grins slowly spreading over their chapped lips, soon the two boys were in a fit of giggles due to the realisation of the sweet situation. Both never taking eyes off one another, blushes spreading to their ears and down their necks.

“I, I guess I’ll listen to this tonight?” Richie’s voice broke, still calming down from his fit of giggles.

“Yeah, me too… I-i uh, I picked out the songs carefully and put them in order a certain way, so..” Eddie trailed off, becoming a little ashamed incase Richie would tease him for his effort.

But Richie only felt love swell inside of him at those words, he grabbed Eddie’s hand with his free one and leant forward, bending down slightly, whilst pressing their lips together for the first time. Eddie’s eyes widened in shock, before melting and wrapping his free arm around Richie’s neck with the mixtape in his firm grip. Both merged together in sync and harmony, with their lips swelling and becoming saturated in colour. Richie wrapped his other arm around Eddie’s waist and too held his mix tape tightly as they both kissed in the middle of the street, hand in hand, with no shame at all.


Eddie sat down at his desk, placing his headphones over his head, pressing play as quickly the flood of Richie vibes swirled into his eardrums. Finally, after many aching hours at school he had time to listen to this mixtape.

I don’t want to know your name

Cause’ you don’t look the same

The way you did before

Okay, you think you got a pretty face

But the rest of you is out of place

You looked alright before…

Eddie chuckled at the familiar song, it often played in arcades that the Losers club all went too. It went under the title ‘Fox on the Run’ and it was by ‘The Sweets’.

Fox on the run!

You scream and everybody comes a running!

Take a run and hide yourself away…

Foxy on the run!

F-foxy!

Fox on the run…

And hide away!

Eddie listened to every song intensely, capturing the vibe of Richie Tozier perfectly. He had even picked out songs that they both loved and favoured. Eddie really adored Richie’s music taste and everything about it, it perfectly described him as a person and he loved that.

Soon, the last song came on. By the instrumental, Eddie recognised it to be ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love With You’ by Elvis Presley. HIs heart hammered quickly.

Wise men say,

Only fools rush in

But I, cant help, falling in love with you…

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin?

If I can’t help, falling in love with you…

Eddie’s breath hitched in his throat, feeling his pulse echo throughout his system. This was not part of Richie’s vibe at all, but part of Eddie’s. Eddie loved Elvis Presley whilst Richie wasn’t a big fan of him. 

But this song was magical and made for someone special, so Eddie was shocked and swooned. Very much so captivated.

Eddie Kaspbrak was falling in love with Richie Tozier.


Later that night, Richie laid down in bed with his cheap headphones, before plugging them into the mixtape and pressing the button to get the songs going.

The first song started; it was of course one of Richie’s favoured artists as well as Eddie’s. From what he knew, this was one of Eddie’s favourite songs from David Bowie, it was called Heroes and it was a truly beautiful song.

I, I will be king.

And you, you will be queen.

Though nothing, will drive them away

We can beat them, just for one day.

Oh we can be heroes!

Just for one day.

And you, you can be mean.

And I, I drink all the time.

Because we’re lovers, and that is a fact.

Yes we’re lovers, and that is that.

Though nothing, will keep us together

We could steal time, just for one day.

We could be heroes, forever and ever.

What’d you say?

Richie felt his heart pump faster and swell as the mixtape carried on, each song having Eddie’s vibe to it. But Richie could tell that they matched him in a way that made Eddie pick it for him to listen to. Everything was intentional.

After a good 50 minutes, the final song was starting to play. Yet Richie wasn’t prepared for what he was about to hear.

Hey Jude…

Don’t make it bad,

Take a sad song, then make it better.

Remember, to let her into your heart.

Then you can start to make it better.

Richie’s eyes widened as his thoughts wandered back to Eddie’s simple words. ‘I picked out the songs carefully and put them in order a certain way.’ This meant that Eddie had intentionally wanted Richie to hear this song last.

Hey Jude…

Don’t be afraid.

You were made to go out and get her.

The minute you let her under your skin

Then you begin to make it better.

Richie felt the tears prick at his waterline as this was the first time of him being emotional at a song. Eddie was the only person that knew about Richie’s home life, how he was neglected by his parents constantly and was alone. He knew that the reason why Richie was so loud and out there was because he didn’t receive the attention he deserved at home, so he wanted it from friends. He wanted to make people laugh, Eddie knew this.

Eddie’s key words lingered in his brain, as it stuck out to him that this single song revealed that Eddie’s whole mixtape was set up in a way to help Richie throughout dark times or whenever he felt alone, so he could remember that Eddie had cared enough to set up this mixtape in perfect order to make Richie stronger in that given moment.

And anytime you feel the pain,

Hey Jude, refrain

Don’t carry the world upon your shoulders.

For well you know that it’s a fool,

Who plays it cool

By making his world a little colder.

Richie’s tears finally fell, making him take his glasses off to refrain any of the tears staining the lenses. Eddie had purposely picked this song as if to say that Richie was in fact his Jude, he wanted Richie to get better and hopefully have a better mindset besides his life at home.

Nah, nah nah, nah nah, nah nah, nah nah…

His breaths shook, as he held the mixtape to his chest with the headphones still placed perfectly on his head. He was thankful to have someone like Eddie who would even bother to do this, as something as simple as this with so much thought put into it only made him fall in love with the small boy even more.

I really, really want Class 1-A to do a blanket fort.

Perhaps it starts just because someone dragged too many cozy blankets into the living room. Perhaps it starts because two or more of the children couldn’t sleep and huddled together for comfort. Or perhaps none of them could sleep because of nightmares, a thunderstorm, or after watching a horror movie.

One way or the other, they end up in the living room, tons of blankets, pillows and stuffed animals strewn out between them, and it doesn’t take too long for someone to come up with the idea of a blanket fort.

The more enthusiastic kids like Mina, Kirishima; Kaminari and Tooru are the ones to start building and hiding. Bakugou joins in because, heck, those idiots don’t even know how to build a fort, he can do that so much better. Uraraka is all for it and drags Izuku and Iida with her. Shouto joins, liking the thought of a warm, cozy nest to sleep in. Tokoyami wouldn’t confess it, but it’s exactly the same train of thought that bring him under the blankets, too.

Kouda is completely content with sitting in the middle of the fort, his rabbit securely on his lap and a stuffed animal next to him while the others build a rather impressive fort around him.

When Toshinori walks into the living room, on his way to the kitchen, he almost stumbles into the fort that takes up most of the living room space. He freezes mid-motion as everyone calls out Watch out!

“Now, what’s all of this?” He asks, baffled as he takes in the walls of blankets and pillows, covered with a big blanket for a ceiling.

“It’s our fort!” Mina’s head pops up between a few pillows, expression shining with excitement.

“Ah, yes. Of course. It’s rather impressive,” the fort shields everyone rather well from his gaze, and Toshinori has to bite back a laugh as he asks, “Is… everyone in there?”

“Uh, yes,” that’s Izuku’s voice that comes from somewhere in the middle of the room.

“I think we lost Mineta somewhere between a few pillows,” Sero comments good naturedly.

“Actually, we buried him,” Jirou mutters.

Iida’s gesturing almost topples a wall over as he exclaims, “Everyone! Go look for him! Really now…”

“Sensei, come join us!” Kirishima pops up next to Mina’ waving so much that Bakugou emerges, too, swatting him over the head to stop him. “Ow!”

“Is there enough space for me in there?”

“Sure!”

“Pleeeease, Sensei!”

Toshinori relents, crawling under and into the fort carefully. He’s too tall and lanky for this, has to basically lie on his stomach in order to fit, but since the ground is also covered in pillows, that’s not even that uncomfortable.

And honestly, uncomfortable or not, it’s so worth it just because his students greet him loudly and happily, basically snuggling up to him once he has settled down.

Once Aizawa walks into the dorms, back from his job as an underground hero, there is nothing to be seen from his students or his colleague. Only the blanket meets his eye once he turns the corner.

Aizawa stops, blinks, let’s that sink in for a moment, before, “How many hours did you all spend on this?”

There is some shuffling, before one edge of the “ceiling” gets lifted and a pair of eyes blinks at him.

“Welcome back, Sensei,” Tsuyu greets him kindly. “We did our homework first, promise.”

“Hm,” Aizawa frowns, not sure if that is enough of a reassurance.  

“It’s just that we couldn’t sleep afterwards.”

If he wanted or not, Aizawa’s reservation towards this child’s work vanishes at that, and he sighs. “Toshinori?”

“Ah, yes?” Tsuyu scoots over as the retired hero appears next to her.

“You better tell me that my sleeping bag is somewhere in there with you.”

“I actually saw it somewhere around here…,” more shuffling, and the blond grunts triumphantly, “Ha! Thank you, Tooru. You’re sleeping bag is here, Aizawa-kun.”

“Well, nothing for it then,” Aizawa crouches, carefully examining the thick walls of blankets. “Is there a door to this thing?”

“Oooh, is Aizawa-sensei joining us, too?!” Kirishima exclaims. “Sweet!”

“It’s getting fucking cramped in here, guys,” Bakugou grumbles.

“Just make yourself a bit smaller, man.”

“Yeah, you could deflate your ego a bit,” Kaminari suggests. “Lots of space would come from that.”

“You fucking little…!”

“Yikes! Help! Get him off me!”

“Guys! You will topple the whole fort, stop that!”

By the time Aizawa has been granted entrance to the fort, he is already regretting his decision to join in on this – there won’t be any escape if people start exploding stuff or electrocuting each other, and he is tired to use his quirk.

“Don’t worry,” Toshinori seems to read his mind. The blond looks utterly too childlike for a grown man, lying on his stomach and making himself comfortable amidst stuffed animals. “They will calm down soon enough.”

“If you say so,” Aizawa huffs, but relaxes enough to climb into his sleeping bag and try to get some sleep.

And really, it doesn’t take too long for the bickering to calm down, yawns to be heard and really, and shortly after Aizawa feels someone flop down next to him, half snuggling up to him.

Cracking one eye open, he regards his students – especially Mina, who is basically falling asleep on his arm – with a calculating look before he huffs and goes back to sleep.

He has to confess – this fort is really good work from these kids.

TFC HC

Okay so remember that one scene, I think it was in TKM, where Neil can’t open a wrapper (probably a healthy energy bar or something idk) and Andrew just takes it out of his hands and opens it for him.

Right, so I was thinking about that and then my mind wandered way off track but here goes:

-       Matt and Dan have a bunch of kids in the future right

-       In this hc Andreil don’t have any kids because reasons

-       And Matt and Dan decide to adopt a kid because they are awesome and would totally do that

-       And Andrew knows that they’re nice people and they wouldn’t be shitty parents but he’s been in foster care, he knows that people treat their own kids better than their foster/adopted children

-       So every time there’s a group thing or whatever and they bring all their kids he watches out for the adopted kid, just to make sure

-       And maybe one time he sees the kid struggling to open something and Matt and Dan aren’t in eyesight

-       And he’s become sort of protective of this small human

-       Not that he would ever admit that

-       So he snatches the thing off the kid and opens it for them without really thinking about it

-       The next time the kid needs help they go straight to Andrew and he helps them because as much as he hates people and the world he’s not going to be a total dick to children because he gets it

-       Andrew is the closest to the children’s height and he doesn’t come off as threatening because kids are wild okay

-       So eventually the kid starts bringing the other kids to Andrew for help

-       And it just becomes A Thing TM

-       Just imagine Andrew standing there (probably threatening some guy) and this tiny child comes over and holds up a juice box or something and without even blinking (or stopping his threat) Andrew reaches over and opens it and gives it back and this kid just smiles and wanders off

-       And of course everyone is like, WTF?

-       Neil’s standing there smiling because he isn’t surprised in the least

Helplessness is watching a person you care deeply for deteriorate right before your eyes without having the means to help them.

Desperation is shouting for hours and hours at the top of your lungs for help until your voice is raw and throbbing.

Defeat is knowing that there’s nothing you can do. You’re stuck and forced to live day after day in a small, cold cell. Whatever hope of help coming is replaced with a numbness, a slow realization that this is how your life will end.

“Stop…. Pouting….”

Keith blinks back into reality at Lance’s weak, raspy voice. The latter is using his lap as a pillow, and Keith glances down to meet the brunet’s eyes.

“I’m not.” Keith answers, and despite Lance’s ashen face colored only with a deep flush across his cheeks, the brunet’s face lights up as a breathy laugh escapes.

“You literally… pouted when you… said that.”

On instinct, Keith moves to purse his lips out into a pout, but he catches himself and breathes out a low sigh instead.

He tilts his head back up to stare at the stone ceiling. How many days has it been now? Twelve, maybe? He lost track after Lance stopped eating, too worried to care about anything else but the brunet.

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Something’s Gotta Give

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Style: One-Shot

Warnings: Angst, language, smut!!!!! (NSFW, 18+!)

Word Count: 3K

Summary: You’ve been filming Infinity War over the past 8+ months and for whatever reason, you cannot stand the sight of Christopher Robert Evans. But on a cold winter’s night, stuck in a cabin for “mandatory bonding”, you and Chris work out your issues…physically. Includes cameos of our favorite super-dorks Seb, Tom, Scar & Mackie!

A/N: OK, so Chris is a bit of an ass here. But there’s always been this small little part of me that thinks he has a dark side… he can’t be fluffy and loving all the time, right? ;) I also haven’t written smut in like YEARS so please don’t come @ me just enjoy, OK? Also, dedicated to the love of my life @dolangram because she inspires me daily to be a better writer and also just a better person. ILY forever <3 Enjoy! (Gif not mine)

Originally posted by lovelynemesis

You couldn’t stand him. Literally, every single thing he did put you on edge. Every time he breathed. Every time he spoke. Every time he laughed so fucking hard he clutched his chest and threw his beautiful blonde head back, unable to breathe. And now, here you were. Stuck with him for a full 24 hours in a snowed-in cabin. What. The. Hell.

“Oh this is going to be such fun.” You hear Tom say from the corner of the room, rubbing his hands together after setting his bags down on the floor. 

“Whose idea was it to do this again?” You mumbled, more to yourself than to anyone in particular.

“Cheer up, doll, it’s the last time we’ll all be together like this for a while. It’s supposed to be fun.” Your best friend grinned at you, slinging his bulky arm across your shoulders and ruffling your hair.

“Seb!” You grunt at the weight of him, shoving him off you. “Knock it off.”

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anonymous asked:

Some human bodily functions weird/creep Black Hat the fuck out. Sure he's a monster beyond human comprehension, but fuck humans are weird man.

  • “so let me get this straight. You pay a person to drill holes into your teeth once a year, so he can say you’re healthy?” “Boss, most employers offer dental insurance–” “I KNOW! I just don’t see why it’s necessary?? Your teeth would be stronger without holes, right?”
  • “You soak in dirt water every day?” “It’s called a bath, boss. It’s really relaxing, you should try–” “GROSS NO.”
  • “Wow this candy tastes disgusting.” “That’s Dementia’s lipstick.” “So?” “You don’t. You don’t eat it, sir….”
  • “You mean your body just, shuts down?? Every night??” “And eventually, we shut down forever!” “So sleep is just… practice death?” “I, I guess?”
  • “Why are you always flirting with me.” “Flirting??” “THAT! That whole eye-closey thing! Stop it!” “….that’s blinking, sir.”
  • “Okay, no, you said crying meant sadness!” “It can be anger too. Or fear. Or happiness.” “….what the fuck
  • “Stop making so many noises!!” “…You mean, breathing?” “Ugh. So obnoxious.”
  • “WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT’S WHAT A BATHROOM IS FOR”
Baby Drama

Originally posted by spdrparker

Pairing: dad!Bucky Barnes x female!Reader x some Steve Rogers

Prompt: “I’m gonna show you who’s your real daddy.” (#18)

Warnings: none, really !! i mean, bucky gets kinda jealous, but there’s nothing too intense in this (which is surprising) - the use of ‘Daddy’, but in an innocent way, i promise - some sexual reference

Word Count: 1.8K

A/N: this is for @bucky-plums-barnes ‘s writing challenge - congrats on 8K, darlin’!!


“Are you sure that you can handle this, Stevie?” Bucky hurriedly questions as he finishes-up tying his tie and stuffs his toothbrush into his duffel bag. He taps the button on the back of his hand and a sort-of covering disguises his metal arm. The device was a gift from Tony Stark, and he only uses it whenever he feels the need to, which is rarely ever. “Because we could always just stay home.”

“Don’t worry, Buck,” Steve chuckles at his nervous friend. “You and Y/N deserve a break. It’s your anniversary, go out, have some fun - live a little,” Steve grins as he sits on the couch near where a very content toddler was fiddling with some crayons. “Emma and I will be just fine. Won’t we, Em?” Steve leans forward and tickles her cheek with his finger, earning a bubbly giggle from the child.

“Bucky, she’ll be fine with Steve,” you say as you slide off one of the stools at the kitchen island, swinging your purse over your shoulder. “C’mere, Emmy,” you coo goofily, crouching down and reaching for the toddler. She plops forward onto her hands and crawls over to you, reaching out with her chubby hand towards you. You pick her up, holding her comfortably in your arms.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for Uncle Stevie?” You giggle at her, bopping her nose.

“M-Mama,” Emma babbles, grabbing at your hair.

“No, no, no,” you wince, dragging her hand away from being able to pull at your hair. “Here, say bye to Daddy,” you give her a big, exaggerated kiss on the cheek before handing her off to Bucky and grabbing your suitcase, heading for the door.

“I’ll miss ya, Emmy,” Bucky gives her an Eskimo kiss, Emma’s childish laughter bouncing through the room. “We’ll be back tomorrow,” he promises, setting her back down on the ground. Bucky walks over to the island and grabs his bag, then meets your at the doorway.

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It didn’t happen often, but even once would probably be more than Aaron would be willing to admit. The first time it happened was shortly after their game against the Ravens that ended in Riko’s death.

Thanks to Katelyn, Neil knew about Aaron’s occasional nightmares, which was why he was only mildly surprised when one night the door to their bedroom opened and the second Minyard brother stood in their doorway. A quick glance to the digital clock on Kevin’s nightstand told Neil it was half past two in the morning.

He watched from his bed as Aaron quietly, probably hoping not to wake anyone, made his way over to Andrew’s bed.

As he stepped into the little bit of moonlight that found its way through their blinds, the pale light illuminated his tired features and Neil was pretty sure Aaron had gotten little to no sleep yet. He almost felt sorry for him.

“Andrew,” he heard Aaron whisper, a safe distance between him and his twin, “Andrew, wake up.”

Rustling sheets and a sudden, dull thud told Neil Andrew had woken up - as violently as always - in the bed beneath his.

“What.” It didn’t even sound like a question, just a very tired and annoyed remark.

“I-…” Aaron cleared his throat and looked at the ground beneath his naked feet. He looked uncomfortable. Embarrassed. Scared.

“…..can I stay?”

There was a long silence, and Neil began to think Andrew would do his usual spiel of staring someone down until they got the message and left him alone.

He didn’t know what it was that made Andrew decide against this. Whether it was some sort of brotherly affection Andrew had towards Aaron, but didn’t quite know what to do with yet. Or maybe it was his excessive sense of duty towards those he called family. Whatever it was, it made Andrew scoot over in his bed. An almost unnoticeable sigh of relief left Aaron, and he climbed into his brother’s bed.

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Necessary

“I can already tell, that it won’t taste as deliciously as you would.”

Originally posted by jeonggukk

Précis: In which you go on a date with your supposed boyfriend who loves to flirt, and not just with you.

Note: *starts snickering* does anyone remember this? One of my first bts fics ever, and it’s back and revamped. You’ll thank me later. | Words ➳ 7.4k

Genre & Warning: Angsty with a side of fluff, or am I lying? No warning, goodbye.


It was on a frosty evening when you found yourself sitting alone on a metallic bench, your eyes filled with such awe and longing as you watched the snow fall softly. You didn’t know what it was, but as your hand slowly reached out to grab a few snowflakes onto your glove, you inspected them carefully and smiled at how delicately they were made, as if the angels residing in the clouds took their time to construct and sculpt each one as they flew freely into the sky; only to be smothered and perished into the ground.

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Shock Horror

(Gif source: x)

Characters- Dean x Reader, Sam
Summary- Dean comes back from a witch hunt not quite himself. You do your best to help, and hope that it’s enough.
Word Count- 1,889
Warnings- Angst, Fluff, Language.
Beta- @jpadjackles  **re-edited**
A/N- Prompt: ‘Caught Up In You’ by 38 Special Requested by @anon. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! Also, thank you all so much for 2.5k followers! I love y’all so much <3


As you crouch in front of the open passenger door, you look over the man in the bench seat. The man you see is far removed from the usual Dean Winchester you knew. He’s eerily quiet, sitting stiffly as he stares, unseeing, out of the windshield. The impala is parked in the bunker’s garage, but he just sits there, motionless, except for the occasional lethargic blink.

When Sam and Dean came back from their hunt, you expected them to be in one of two moods. The first and most preferred was the giddy excitement of a job well done, beers and pie all around. The second was less desired, the quiet thoughtfulness of a rough hunt.

Right now you would take the quiet over this.

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Shakespeare (Part X)

(Banner made by the incredibly talented @tiostyles)

Harry X Reader (AU)

In which Harry is a poetic frat boy who just so happens to be the TA for your new English class.

Read previous parts here.

Author’s note: This is it. This is the final part. Thank you all so much for sticking around and supporting me and giving me your honest thoughts. I wouldn’t have come this far without you. All the love. Xx


It’s four-thirty in the morning.

You notice the time passively. It’s the least of your worries. You’ve been tossing and turning, in and out of sleep for the past couple hours. Harry is sprawled out across the mattress on his stomach. His legs are spread, arms outstretched. One hangs limply over your waist. He’s facing you and his cheek is pressed against his pillow, lips parted, hair disheveled. You’ve been staring at him for twenty minutes, thankful that he hasn’t woken up to your probing eyes.

He smells just as he always has when you finally shift into his body, settling your forehead against his shoulder and letting your eyes rest closed. His arm curls around you and you bask in the essence of him—the soft snores and rolling heat. You’re not sure when you’ll get to be this close again.

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