(this is a sequel to THIS ‘I think there’s someone in the house’ fic!)
The paramedics hammer on the door, and Neil looks up, teary-eyed, from where his face is pressed into Andrew’s damp hair. He’s feeling for his breath with the back of his hand, waiting moment to moment for Andrew to die in his arms, silently like he does everything else. Urgency keeps stunning Neil all over again, hysterical defibrillators. The EMT’s are calling out through the wall, muffled but calm.
It feels unthinkably wrong, their absolute evenness and ease outside his door when his life is an exposed neck and Andrew’s death is the whirring blade of a saw.
He realizes that he has to get up to let them in, and it seems as impossible as it would be for Andrew to spring up and answer the door himself. He feverishly wants them to crumple the door to splinters and be inside already.
It’s a herculean effort to ease Andrew to the ground, like he’s gritting his teeth and cutting off his own leg. He touches Andrew’s clammy face briefly but he can’t bring himself to try and slap him awake. He props Andrew’s bare feet up on the rim of the bath so the blood will flood towards his head, at least.
He feels untethered to his body when he stands, a helium balloon with its usual weight passed out on the bathroom floor. He falls into the wall immediately, adrenaline neck and neck with exhaustion.
He finds his way to the front door without his mind’s help. His head is in the bathroom with Andrew, and he knows that no matter what happens it’ll be there for a long, long time.
The next time he blinks, a man in uniform is holding his biceps and peering down at him seriously.
“—sir? Sir, are you hurt at all?”
“No,” Neil says, lips numb. “Bathroom. He’s in the bathroom. He’s bleeding to death.”
He turns, easily slipping the paramedic’s grip. There’s a procession of them, hefting a gurney and a couple of kits, and they’ve brought all the cold from outside in on their heels. They’re such a foreign object in their warm, messy apartment — uniformed, official, and precise.
It’s deadly, walking in and seeing Andrew spread out in his boxers, blood oozing through his t-shirt from his loose stitches, pale enough to match the porcelain. Neil’s seen enough corpses to recognize what they look like.
He falls heavily to his knees and puts his head directly to his chest, listening, tears slipping hotly over the bridge of his nose.
“Please,” he slurs. His heartbeat is a tentative thud, a knock from an unexpected guest. “Help him. Now, help him now.”
“We’re going to try our best Sir, but you’ve got to get out of the way,” someone says gently.
He topples backwards onto his hands. It’s a cramped space, and he knows it would be easier if he waited outside, but he also knows he’d rather die than leave them alone with him.
The first guy kneels down and takes Andrew’s pulse, and Neil shakes his head. They’re too slow, time is feeding directly into a wide open drain.
“He needs an IV. He’s two litres down, at least. You’ve got to—“ A petite woman puts a hand on his shoulder and he shrugs her off violently. “No! You have to listen to me.”
“We know what we’re doing,” she says. “Are you an MD?” She eyes him doubtfully, gaze flitting from his scars to where her colleagues are taking vitals and cutting through Andrew’s clothes.
“Yes,” Neil says wildly. “And he needs an IV. Possibly two. Large-bore, normal saline. He’s not getting any oxygen, and he’s been like this for as long as it took you to gather your meager response team.”
She purses her lips, but she’s a professional. He can see her repressing her anger and it infuriates him. He feels like he’s crashing, over and over again, and he’s watching someone daintily pump the breaks.
“He’s right,” one of the EMT’s says distractedly. “We’re gonna need to get some fluids started, he’s in hypovolemic shock, sats below 50.”
“You want to tell me what happened?” one of the men asks.
“No,” Neil says as evenly as he can manage, reaching out to graze Andrew’s cold fingers.
“Did you do these stitches?” the woman asks, pulling at Andrew’s skin to get a better look at them. He suddenly sees how they must look to them, sloppy and angry red. Neil bends her arm away without thinking about it.
“Don’t touch him,” he snaps. He could break her arm and it would make him feel better. He drops her, disoriented by his own violence.
“There’s no need to be antagonistic,” the first man says. “We don’t want to have to remove you.”
“You really don’t,” Neil agrees. “You won’t succeed.”
babe I don’t know how accidentally slapping someone works ( i mean you either slap them or you don’t) so I am going to make it a slap out of anger
Also, right now I’m doing only Jin, Rapmon and yoongi, maknae line and jho(p)e will follow soon. I hope that won’t be a problem! Thank you for requesting! 💜
***********PLEASE SEND IN REQUESTS, I”M AN OLDIE WHO IS RUNNING OUT OF IDEAS
You would be arguing about something stupid and Jin would be shouting on the top of his voice, telling you to get your shit together. You could tell he was really angry. You had observed that he had been losing his temper at the drop of a hat, the past few days, but listening to him screaming at you would make you angry as well. “What’s gotten into you, Jin? Why the fuck do you have to be so angry all the fucking time? Stop behaving like a fucking lunatic-”
The crack of skin contacting skin echoed off the walls. He had slapped you.
Immediately, after releasing all of his tension in that act, he would stare at you wide eyed. You would have your hand on your cheek, equally shocked.
“I’m sorry, y/n I just-I didn’t want to-please oh god I am so sorry” He would try to come closer to you in an effort to comfort you but you would flinch and back off, eyes red-angry, tearful and betrayed-, you would look at him, tears now freely falling.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” you would say, taking your bag and leaving the apartment, leaving behind a crying Jin.
Namjoon would barge into your room, picking you up from your bed, violently yanking on your hand. He would drag you out to the dining room-despite your strong protest at the way he was treating you-and there you would see his bratty female friend sitting on one of the chairs, crying her eyes out.
“What the fuck, Kim Namjoon?” You would ask him, yanking your arm out of his grip.
“How dare you, y/n? I knew you could be crazy but this is just crossing all the fucking limits. How could you bully her?”
You stood in shock. YOU…bullying HER?
“What the fuck are you talking about? Why would I do that?”
“She told me, she showed me the marks. You hit her. What the fuck y/n? How could you?”
You looked at his friend, sitting behind him giving you a smirk and all you could see was red.
“Get the fuck out of my house, you lying bitch.” You would start towards her when Namjoon would forcefully turn you towards him and slap you across your cheek.
A sharp pain would hit you, leaving a throbbing sensation in your cheek.
“Did you just fucking slap me?” You would say through the angry tears.
“Yah namjoon-ah, i was just kidding..you went too far.” His friend would stand up out of fear and mild nervousness and just take her leave.
“Save it. I’m leaving.”
“no..no please, no no, I am so sorry. I thought you were going to hit her- and I just lost it- oh god I didn’t know she was lying-yah y/n please don’t leave. Please baby, I’m so sorry.” He would try to stop you from leaving but you had already packed your stuff and walked out of the apartment before he could finish whatever explanation he was giving you.
He would be furious, blaming you for throwing some of his important work away. This would just be a stimulus to an already irritated Yoongi. He would be exhausted and frustrated by the sheer amount of work and even though you will have thrown out nothing, he would take this as an opportunity to release all his anger.
“You threw out my things didn’t you? When the fuck will you grow up?” Yoongi would step into the kitchen, where you were making yourself and him some sandwiches. You would turn around to look at him with your eyebrows raised, giving him an uncomfortable smile, trying to calm him down. You knew how exhausted he was.
“I didn’t throw out anything, love.” you would step towards him.
“Shut the fuck up. You have been really annoying lately, you know that? The stuff you fucking threw out was my production work. I had to submit it tomorrow, do you fucking understand what that means?”
You tried to control your anger, remaining calm and maintaining an indifferent expression towards his hurtful words.
“Honey, I did not throw anything out, okay? Just check around. You’ll find it.”
“I DON’T HAVE THE FUCKING TIME TO CHECK AROUND!” He roared and you took a slight step backwards because you were startled. You had never seen him like this.
“What’s wrong, Yoongi? Are you okay?” You would ask him slightly concerned at his outburst.
He would look at you with red eyes, “Do I look like I’m fucking okay, you bitch?”
You would stand there with your mouth open. “What the fuck did you just call me?”
“A bitch. That’s what you are. Why the fuck are we together? You threw out my stuff and now you’re acting like an innocent fuck who doesn’t know what’s happening.” He would be on a roll, enraged. “You probably don’t have to work this hard because I’m rich and your boss is all over you but I WORKED DAY IN AND DAY OUT TO MAKE THAT SHIT!” Yoongi would shout as he came closer to you.
“MIN YOONGI, THAT’S ENOUGH!” You would shout back, holding your ground as he stood only half a hand away from you. “All this for a fucking music sheet, that I didn’t even throw out? Please stop-”
Rage boiled through Yoongi’s body as he tuned you out. He barely had a chance to think of his actions as he threw his hand forward as hard as he could, whipping it across your face. The sound resonated off the walls of the apartment. You could feel the vibration of his hit and pain spread across the left side of you face. His palm was bright red, the same red mark that matched the one on your face. You stared at him with your eyes wide as your hand slowly made it to your fire red cheek.
Yoongi looked at you with wide eyes, realizing what he had done. He stumbled forwards, his expression blank but eyes leaking tears. He had hit you.
“Y/n..I..oh god what have I done” He would come forward to hug you but you would push him back.
“Don’t you dare touch me, you bastard.”
You would immediately walk past him but he would yank you back and hug you from behind, putting his face in the crook of your neck, holding on to you for dear life. “NO! No..no don’t leave me please-I didn’t mean to do that-i just-i was so angry-baby I am so sorry. Hey-please, y/n don’t leave me please”
You would stand in his desperate embrace for a minute, your own tears now falling rapidly, and then you would forcefully pry his hands off and walk out without saying a word, leaving Yoongi on his knees, crying out for you.
WHOO that was…really angsty. *THIS IS NOT EDITED*
Just a little note: There is no way in which hitting your partner can be justified. Never EVER EVER stand for it. Stay blessed my babies.
Request/Prompt: “Ok so, for the prompt list u posted, can u somehow combine "i’m gonna marry her one day” (this wasn’t on the list but it’s so cute to me for some reason???) “don’t be an ass” and “you’re such a bitch” with 16/17 year old Richie? Like just overall super fluffy ?? Idk I’m just in the mood for sum fluffy richie… Love your writing by the way! ❤❤❤" from @evelxn-cruz on tumblr.
Ship: Richie Tozier x fem!reader
Summary: Richie gets the reader into detention, so she gets revenge by putting him into detention.
Type: fluff…. But not super fluffy, I’m super sorry to the person who requested!
Warning: Only warning would be swearing, I think.
Word count: 2971 (including A/Ns)
Hope you enjoy it. Let me know!
This isn’t great, and it’s quite different to what I usually do, and it’s not very fluffy I don’t think sorry!!! Let me know if you want another, more fluffy, one! Seriously just tell me to get my shit together lol.
Also, I know the teachers I’m using are from the elementary school in Derry, but let’s pretend they’re high school teachers as well lol. And idk the janitors name (I couldn’t find it on the wiki) so I called him Jimmy and I didn’t know of the shopkeepers name so I called him Mr. Davidson (no reason, just two random names I picked).
His vision switched between normal and disoriented, he walked with a slight wobble in his step and he could not keep the drunken smile off his face.
Alex had just left with a redhead he had met that night. He said goodbye to Bill and checked to make sure his brother would be able to get home safely, to which the younger Skarsgård assured him was no issue; his shared apartment was only three blocks away.
“Double whiskey.” He said to the bartender.
The bald man nodded and began to fix his drink.
It was then that a woman around his age slid into the seat beside him. She was tall for a female, had sterling grey eyes, champagne blonde hair and wore a dark smokey eye.
Bill looked at the woman and gave her a small smile, causing her to smirk in response.
“You’re here alone?” She wondered.
He nodded, “My brother just left.”
The barman set the glass of whiskey in front of Bill before turning to fix someone else’s drinks.
She twirled the ends of her wavy, long locks and stared into his eyes, giving him the sexy smolder she had perfected over the years. “What do you say to heading somewhere too?” She pressed.
“Like?” He asked stupidly; completely wasted.
His ignorance only made her smile grow wider, “Let’s start with the bathroom.”
She stood and took his large hand in hers, pulled him off his chair and led him to the single stall restroom. He stumbled along behind her, long legs unable to function like usual.
The blonde took him into the nearest bathroom and quickly shut the door behind them. She pushed him against the wall and captured his lips roughly. He kissed her back with the same amount of passion.
Then he straightened, becoming taller than her, and lost her lips. She gave him an annoyed look, one he could not fully comprehend due to his intoxicated state.
“I have a girlfriend.” He slurred.
She quirked a brow before putting a hand on him, rubbing her smooth fingers over fabric of his black trousers. “She can’t fuck you like I can.” She promised.
The image of his lover slowly disappeared from his mind, it took too much effort to even see it in the first place. He caved.
“And how would you?” He countered, breathing beginning to rise by her actions.
She pretended to think, he was just really too easy to play with.
“I’m going to give you a blow job. Then, I’ll let you fuck me from behind against this wall.” She slapped her hand against the cold tile near his face, holding it there and leaning closer to him. “I want you to be as rough as you can be. Does she let you fuck her roughly? Would she let you take her mercilessly?” She wondered, gaze fixed nowhere but his pale eyes which darkened by the second.
“No, not always anyways. She’s not like that.” He answered, almost groaning at the way she was touching him.
She smirked, “Then let me help you.”
His gaze did not leave hers as she unzipped his pants and knelt down in front of him. Her eyes were gleaming as she took him in her mouth, causing his head to loll back against the subway tiled wall.
“Fuck.” He swore, taking a hold of her hair and guiding her deeper.
It felt good; he was enjoying her pleasuring him.
He shut his eyes and gave himself to her.
She did not want to tell her friend about what had happened, she would only begin to cry if she did.
She did not want to cry, especially not over him.
So after greeting and thanking her friend for letting her stay for however long she needed, she let herself into the guest bedroom.
She was tired, so very tired. Exhaustion took over her whole body, causing her to flop down on the bed the second she peeled off all of her clothes. Today, she was going to have a nice, deep sleep; one that was not disturbed by wondering where her boyfriend was, if he was safe and when he would be coming home.
No, she was not going to deal with that.
The moment she let her lids fall shut, sleep overcame her welcomingly.
The hot water fell from the rainfall shower head, fogging up the usually transparent glass. The air was thick with humidity, which did not relieve her breathing one bit as her boyfriend went down on her.
Her back was pressed up against the once cool glass, now coated in a sheen of mist, and her free hand desperately attempted to grasp the wall.
She glanced down at him, eyes hazy yet lustful, and found that his eyes met hers, dark and passionate as he pleasured her. He wanted to watch her as she writhed under his touch, moaned his name and fought to keep standing even though her legs were on their way to shaking violently.
He slung her left leg over his shoulder, giving himself better access to her heat as he knelt in front of her. She clutched onto his shoulder for dear life, waiting a few moments to get used to the new and far more compromising position she stood in, then finally let go; leaning her head back against the warm glass and closing her eyes.
“Bill…” She moaned, melting in his touch.
He pleasured her for a few moments longer before pulling out, placing a kiss on her and then standing; hands running up her body as he did. Those large hands stopped at her breasts, cupping them, and her eyes dazed open. They were still cloudy with desire and exhaustion, which turned him on even more. Her eyes met is and they stood like that for a second, staring at each other, neither saying a single word. Her heart pounded at his closeness, breasts heaving more quickly, which he felt and smiled at; he could make her feel this way.
“I- I love you.” She said breathlessly, looking up at his towering figure.
He slid his hands from her breasts to her neck, up until he cradled her jaw with both hands. Her eyes watched him as he went, landing on his lips before he pressed them against hers.
“I love you.” He echoed back.
Suddenly, he bent down slightly, picked her up by her thighs, and moved to the other end of the large shower; water cascaded over their bodies.
The two lovers kissed feverishly under the hot water, hair slicked back and her hands holding onto his upper back tightly for support. They were in their own world entirely, nothing mattered but them, and they kissed as if it was their last night alive.
“I want you. All of you.” She moaned in between kisses.
“Mm. You’re all I need.” He responded, entering her immediately.
Her cries were muffled by his lips.
“All I need.” He swore to her, hips rolling against hers rapidly.
A particularly hard trust had her leaning into his chest, forehead resting against his and he took a hold of her hair, pulling her back. They looked into each other’s eyes while he took her deeply.
She woke with a start.
The memory filled her with bitterness. Clearly, she did notknow.
The ring of his mobile swept him from his thoughts.
It was ‘Dad’ as the screen indicated. Shit.
He reached for his phone and pressed ACCEPT. "Hey.” He answered quietly.
“Bill! Where are you both? Is the traffic bad?” Stellan asked enthusiastically, excited to see his son and his son’s partner at the party.
It was painful to hear someone sound so delighted to hear his voice. He felt like he deserved no love, no one to care for him. He surely did not care about her whilst the blonde was on the verge of making him come.
“No, Dad we uh- won’t be making it.” He said dejectedly.
His father caught onto his son’s depressed tone.
“What happened? Are things not well between you two?” He pressed lightly.
Bill’s breath hitched in his throat, emitting a strangled sound. No, things are very unwell, and it’s all my fault.
“I messed up, Dad. I really messed up.” He cried, tears welling in his pale eyes.
“Bill… what happened?” Stellan asked, heart breaking listening to his son’s voice. No father ever wanted their child to sound so upset and troubled.
It became clear to Bill that not only was he devastated that he had lost her, he was embarrassed; embarrassed that he could not treat her in the way she deserved to be treated. He had promised to love her forever.
He hiccuped before speaking: "I cheated on her last night.“
He looked at the ashtray on the table to his right as he waited for his father to say something and saw the cigarette remains, another reminder of how he had failed her. It was all too much for him to handle.
“She started smoking again, Dad! She stopped a year ago and she was so goddamn happy about it. I drove her to do this again. I fucking did this to her!” He grieved.
It was in that moment he realized he could not stand to look at the cigarettes beside him. It was almost as if he could picture her: alone in the dark, rain pounding against the window, the cloud of grey smoke drifting through the room. He saw her eyes, hollow and lifeless, and her fingers, loosely holding the cigarette as she lifted it to her lips, devoid of all emotion. She did this over and over again until she grew too tired to even stand.
He grabbed the ashtray and strode to the kitchen, opened the cabinet under the sink and threw the tray into the garbage bin.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Bill. I am disappointed in you.” His father scolded, yet he sounded softer than he could have been.
He sunk to the floor, hand gripping his cellphone fiercely, and sniffed.
“Let her be for some while… I know this will be hard on you both. Give it time.” The older and much wiser Skarsgård told him.
Bill nodded, even though his father could not see him.
After ending the call, he ambled to their bedroom- her bedroom as it had just become again, and started to pack some clothes. He decided he would listen to his father and give her the space she needed, the space she deserved.
a/n: WOW I can’t believe this little series is finally done! Hope you guys have enjoyed and continue to enjoy these drabbles and I’m excited for my next projects so please anticipate them! As always, other members chapters can be found above^! <3
Dragging yourself from the couch with a yawn you made your way through your apartment and into your bedroom, picking out clothes for bed and slipping into your bathroom. The TV filled the empty living space with background noise, helping distract you from the idea that you were still by yourself, Jungkook having not yet returned from dance practice tonight.
You’d waited as long as you could for him, but when your eyes started to droop and your head starting to rock to the side as you struggled to stay awake, you knew it was time to get ready for bed.
Jungkook walked into his apartment, exhaustion written in
his features after the long night of being dragged into partying. Flipping the
light switch on, the house lighted up in a dim light as Jungkook kicked his
shoes off and dropped his keys on the table. He collapsed onto the couch with a
sigh, letting his head lean back over the edge and let his tired eyes slip
It was his birthday which called for a ‘celebration’ his
friends insisted but all it meant to him was another year close to dying. The
events of tonight flashed through Jungkook’s mind as he chuckled to himself. He
remembered how Hoseok and Seokjin dragged him out of work even though he wanted
to stay late and do overtime. They took him out to eat at one of his favorite
restaurants to get hotpot, grateful that they did but they were loud like
always. Afterwards, they took him to bar after bar in hopes of getting him
drunk but they ended up being the ones falling over themselves in fits of
laughter. Even if he was the youngest out of his group of friends who had to
clean up their messes, he watched over them with a grateful smile that they
were there for him.
A propos of absolutely nothing, here are all the things I love about the ‘get Erik out of prison’ sequence in XMDoFP …possibly more than the ‘get everyone out of the mansion’ scene in XMA because I’m a sucker for even the slightest hint of dadneto.
Why exactly do Charles and Hank have a blueprint of the Pentagon???
And how much of the overall plan were they able to come up with just by looking at that? Did they know how many guards would be between the elevator and Erik’s cell?? Or did they have to wait for Peter to ask him if he could do this?
Charles was driving and Logan hated it.
Charles, Logan and Hank were all crammed into the front bench of that car.
Peter’s mother’s car is turquoise.
She keeps the chain lock on the door like that’s going to stop Peter doing shit.
There was a car ride with Charles, Logan, Hank, and Peter. Did they stuff Peter in the back by himself? Or did someone have to sit next to him? Was it Charles, please tell me it was Charles “he’s a pain in the arse” Xavier.
There had to be a moment where they explained their idea to Peter but how much did that cover? Did Peter know he’d have to break the glass like that or did he just come up with that on the fly?
Also there’s a truncheon on the guard’s uniform that he steals - he could have just used that but since when did anyone related to Erik ever pass up the chance to be all Extra with their powers?
How was Erik not covered in tiny cuts and pieces of glass.
MIND THE GLASS means ‘get out of the fucking way,’ Erik.
Do you think Fassbender did that pull up all by himself or did he have help
Peter had his hair tucked under at the back to make it look short, since guards probably wouldn’t be allowed chin-length hair.
Then while Erik is climbing up out of the cell, Peter undoes his hair.
Erik is totally up for being rescued, even though it’s by this crazy kid who showered him in glass. “Lol don’t care who this is or what he wants, let’s blow this popsicle stand.”
How did those slidey doors work without any metal anyway?
How long did it take Peter to work out that anybody he takes on a superspeed run is in danger of whiplash? Or did Charles or Hank casually mention that maybe Peter should try not to break this dude’s neck while escaping?
I LOVE Erik’s little quirk of a smile when they stop in the elevator like “holy shit that’s a cool power” before the nausea catches up with him.
Peter changing his clothes back - were they just lying in a heap in the corner of the elevator? Because I can imagine him making a little duct tape bag with those wide gaping moments and hiding them there, taped up against the wall like the guard.
That guard was not paid enough for that shit
Charles, Hank and Logan did not tell Peter who they were breaking out. They probably told him “his name is Erik and he controls metal and we need him” but never mentioned the ‘maybe shot JFK’ thing.
“I don’t know karate, but I know crazy” like Erik you really like this kid, don’t you? I see you. You think his powers are cool and you’re joshing with him, even while you struggle not to puke.
Evan Peters’ smile is very cute <3
“My mom once knew a guy who could do that” Twin faces of “… wait” because both of you are smart little beans.
What kind of conversation did Peter have with his mother like “no you’re not alone, there other people out there who can do things like you, I knew a guy one time - well, a few times - who could control metal” but like leaving out the fact that that mutant is his father????
Erik robbed of the chance to go down the “and who is your mother, exactly?” road because Charles punches him in the jaw so hard he spins.
Peter’s face when the door opens like “hey, see I got him”
Peter continuing to make conversational faces at the guard while Charles and Erik bicker.
But also nobody else ever bats an eyelid at the guy being strapped to the wall.
Erik’s little nod to Charles, like was that actually agreeing “okay we won’t kill anybody” just moments before flinging a bunch of kitchen knives up into the air or???
Peter waiting until the very last second, when all the guns have been fired, to say “hey yeah I don’t think this was in their plan, I should probably do something. But let’s make it fun.”
He’s going so fast that every step he takes along the wall smashes the tiles
He slaps that guy and pokes the other one in the face. The speed he’s going at, that’s two very concussed humans. Maybe a broken jaw.
That other guy is getting a plate frisbee-d into his face
The bullets have barely left the barrels at this stage and Charles, Erik and Logan are still exactly as they were when Peter started.
How do plastic guns work anyway. Don’t guns get hot when you fire them?
Haha these hot plastic guns are going to smack these guys right in their faces it’s gonna be great gimme that hat
Oh fuck right bullets
He zips back to the guys EVEN FASTER than he was going before
He moves the bullets and this is where i get emotional because to me at least it echoes a page in the comic Magneto: Testament* where Erik and his parents are lined up by soldiers and shot, falling back into a mass grave. You see the bullets coming towards them and you infer that Erik’s powers instinctively protect him but he doesn’t really even know he has them never mind controls them so everybody else dies. My sappy, over-analytical brain loves that this time it’s his son moving the bullets. And although Peter moves the bullets heading for Charles first, he’s standing directly in front of Erik and smiles at him
before zipping away to stand at the opposite side of the room, just in case the guys were in any doubt who just saved their collective bacon.
Erik’s face going from “wtf was that” to “holy shit it was him” then looking to Charles like “who tf is this guy because really you could have just waited in the car”
And then secondarily looking at Logan like “I don’t know you either, who the fu- ew”
Ok let’s get the fuck outta here
Did they just casually stroll back to the parking lot, all soaking wet and with Erik in his prison PJs??
What was going on upstairs - did they evacuate the Pentagon when the fire alarms went off or when the alarms for Erik’s cell went off? Or is everyone else still getting on with their day? Like Hank is still on the tour or waiting in the car?
Holy shit there was a car ride to their airport with Charles, Logan, Hank, Erik and Peter.
Did they stop to get Erik some clothes? Or did they bring spares? Like it’s been ten years but Charles still has Erik’s shit lying around the house.
The plane has an Xavier coat of arms on the tail holy shit
Peter kept the hat
“I saw your flight plan in the cockpit, why are you going to Paris?” like they literally told him nothing about the plan just “break into the Pentagon and get Erik” and Peter’s just like “haha yeah ok sounds fun”
Logan, just let Erik have the newspaper, he’s been in jail for a decade he has no idea what’s going on.
“Take it slow” hahahahahahahahahahaha I wonder what ever happened to that poor car. Can Peter even drive? Like it wouldn’t take him long to learn, and he’d have killer reflexes but like why would he need to drive anywhere???
“You’re going to find this hard to believe but you and Charles send me here from the future.” Erik’s face like What The Actual Fuck, it’s been a really weird day today and that’s still the biggest crock of shit I ever heard.
The end, mostly. I could go on like, did Peter ever admit to his mother he helped break Magneto out of jail and what kind of chewing out did he get? That guard who was taped to the elevator wall, like, did he get shot by the plastic bullets? Or was he just totally shellshocked by the whole experience and when people question him afterwards he’s just like “nuh-uh, that guy could be anywhere, listening, and I wouldn’t even know he was there until after he got me so no I ain’t talking.” “you mean Lehnsherr?” “what? No, Lehnsherr’s the least of your worries. It’s his friends you have to look out for.”
*Magneto: Testament is a really good comic. And by good I mean harrowing and intense.
“It got warm,” Minseok cringed as he took a drink from the bottle of water you gave him. “Did it?” you frowned, wiping the sweat from his head that collected while he was dancing. He gave you a pout and gave it another swig, this time, his face screwed up in disgust.
“You’re a child,” you shook your head, playing a finger on the bottle, freezing half of it’s contents. “I wasn’t expecting that…” he managed to take a satisfying gulp from it now. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of doing that,” he chuckled. “Because you’re not amazing like me?” you teased. “I’m alot more like you thank you think,” he winked before freezing the bottle of water in your hand.
Junmyeon held your hand as he walked you back to your home. “Not the kiss in the rain you wanted, but I hope you enjoy it,” his eyes moved from you when he felt wet spots on his skin. When he saw that the rain was just over the two of you, he narrowed his eyes at you.
“What are you not telling me?” he asked, forming a ball with the water he’d collected in his palm. “That I’m just like you?” you interfered with the ball, turning it into a heart. “We’ve known each other all of this time and we had no idea,” he chuckled, moving closer to you, hand cupping your face. “May I?”
Yixing was sat on the counter, talking happily about his day while you cooked. You drifted off into his story, making your chops clumsy. Your finger was cut by the knife, making you yelp and jump back. “Honey, hold still!” he jumped off the counter, hand glowing to heal you, but he stopped when he saw the same glow come from your hand, closing the wound.
“Why did you never tell me this before?” he grinned, bringing his finger up to his lips to kiss. “Why did you never tell me?” you giggled.
You tried to contain your giggles as you pushed your way into your apartment, Baekhyun following closely behind. You slapped the wall several times to find the light switch, but the attempts were fruitless.
You whined and threw a ball of light from your palm to spread around the room, enabling you both to see. His drunken giggles and slurs had now silenced, making you turn to him to see him playing with his own ball of light. “Marry me.”
The thing you and Jongdae loves to do the most was watch storms. The two of you were wrapped in a blanket, you resting against his chest as you watched the smalls flashes of light illuminated the sky.
“The news said it would be a big storm,” you grumbled, leaning you head back against his shoulder. “It’s still nice,” his lips pressed to your temple. “It’s not big though, is it?” you huffed, moving your hand from under the blanket to create a large bolt that lit up the city below. “You just did that?” he whispered in awe. “If Mother Nature won’t keep her promise, I’ll do it,” you shrugged.
Moments later, your lightening was joined by smaller bolts. “Who do you think could make the biggest one?” he asked, connecting the next two bolts. “Me,” you smirked, lighting up the sky once more. “That was a good one, Y/N!”
“What do you mean you forgot to pack matches?” you had poured the contents of the bag onto the floor of the tent. “It slipped my mind! I was too excited!” you saw him pout, but continued to find the matches that weren’t there. “At least you brought the beer,” you muttered, crawling out of the tent. Chanyeol followed behind you, his body going stuff when he saw you light the fire with a small flame that came from your palm.
“If I weren’t so incredibly aroused right now, I’d start an argument,” he said once you turned to face him. “We’re not having sex in the forest, Chanyeol,” you muttered, pushing past him to get a beer.
“It’s our anniversary!”
“You forgot the matches!”
“We are the matches!”
Your boyfriend’s new love for hiking was starting to drive you insane. Every morning he’d pull you from your glorious sleep to be his companion on the trek.
He took the lead, often checking on you over his shoulder to see you were still okay. As you reached the top of the first small hill, he declared water break, making you sigh in relief.
You flopped to the floor, the concrete cracked beneath you to for a creator. Your boyfriend’s wide eyes inspected each crack before he looked to you, snugly sat in the newly formed crevice. “Is there anything you want to tell me?” he asked, raising a brow. “Should there be?”
“Well, I’d like to hear that my partner has the same power as me from their mouth,” he smirked, creating a matching hole with his foot next to yours. “I share the same power as you,” you nodded, grinning as you watched him settle down to drink.
Jongin had struggled to get you bundled up for your day, trying to prepare you for the snow that would be coming later on. The layers you’d been dressed in became your worst enemy when you entered the heated building of work. To add to your frustration, the elevator was being worked on, meaning the stairs were the only way up.
Halfway up the stairs, you let out a whine and kicked at the step, thinking it would help, but it caused pain in your foot. “I hate Mondays!” you exclaimed. When you unscrewed your face, you saw you were in a completely different room.
"Baby?” you heard your boyfriend’s voice before he stepped in front of you to make sure it was you that had fabricated from nowhere. “How did you get here?” he smiled as your cheeks turned red. “Sometimes I teleport when I get angry,” you mumbled. “I teleport when I laugh too hard,” you finally met his eyes. “Don’t mock me,” you pouted, his hands taking yours then teleporting you home. “See?”
Sehun’s body flopped to the floor at the music stopped, his burning skin pressing against the cool floor. “I’m surprised you can keep up,” he laughed as you joined him on the floor. “Stop underestimating me,” you chuckled breathlessly. “You should’ve turned the fans on before sitting down,” he wiped the sweat onto his sleeve.
You glanced over his face before you created a gush of wind in the room, cooling the two if you down. “That wasn’t me…” he mumbled, looking over your face. “Why would it be you?” you raised a brow. “Because I can do it too,” a second gust filled the room. “I think we’re soul mates.”
Abuse your dog and threaten my girlfriend? Enjoy never sleeping again.
About 2 years ago my girlfriend and I lived in a corner townhome next
to some particularly trashy neighbors. Lets call them “Joey” and
“Jamie” since I hate them and don’t care about using their real names.
At first we all got along but over time our relationship with them
deteriorated. He was an obvious drug dealer, ex-con piece of garbage and
she was just as bad if not worse. We would always hear their fights
through the walls and it wasn’t uncommon to see him leaving the house
with a black eye every couple of weeks.
The worst part was their dog. He was a huge 150+ lb bulldog that was
mean as hell. I never once saw that dog leave the house and any time I
was in there they had to tie him up or restrain him from jumping at
people and tearing them up. He never went on a walk in 3 yrs that we
lived there. He had to shit in a tiny 8x8 square of concrete that never
got cleaned, so it was basically a tiny rectangle of piss and feces that
stunk up the whole area. No wonder he was nasty and aggressive.
And he cried. As soon as they left until the second they got home
which was normally 12 hrs a day. Long drawn out baying howls that you
could hear across the whole complex. At the time I was working night
shifts and it became unbearable because even with ear plugs and white
noise it was all I could hear.
I had talked to him about it a few times and every time it went nowhere, with just a “well thats the way he is” resolution.
One day I snapped. I ran downstairs and slapped the wall next to
where his kennel was as hard as I could to shut him up and get some
sleep. Little did I know Jamie had been home the whole time letting him
She flew into a fury and started screaming through the walls and
slapping back. I knew there was going to be trouble. Later that night
Joey came home high as hell with his eyes bugged out and we had a
regrettable screaming match on the front stoop where they screamed at
us, insulted us, and threatened my girlfriend when she said she was
going to call the cops.
7 days later we moved out. Now, we always had a big jar of dead
batteries that we collected for no real reason at all in the basement.
And once the last box was packed I went and put one dead AA battery in
each of the smoke alarms in every room of the house.
Our landlords were close friends who had told us that we would be
their last tenants before they sold, so the house sat vacant for 7
months. And for 6 of those long months, our house beeped from every
We ran into our old landlord last year at the grocery store. She told
us when they finally went back to tear up the carpets and fix up the
place Joey and Jamie had pounded on the door begging for them to change
the smoke alarms, the HOA wouldn’t respond to their complaints and they
were going absolutely crazy.
“Y/N,” He breathes your name. You pause leaving the half
filled bag resting on the open drawer, your hands on the edge of the dress as
you breath in, a sob shaking your frame. “Don’t.” His voice was a plea all in
“Why?” You shake your head, your hands covering your face as
you attempt to control the sobs rushing from your body.
Dark eyes swept the faces in the sea of people below. Bodies moving in sync to the hypnotic beat that blasted through the speakers. The smell of sweat and booze was almost too overwhelming for the man, but he stayed. He stayed because this was his hunting ground. He ignored the world around him as his sharp eyes scanned the crowd to find his next victim.
And in the moment his eyes locked on another, he knew he had found his next meal.
Author’s note: I put two prompts together for this one, really enjoyed writing it.
Warning: Violence, assault, swearing, suggestion of smut
“Ok (Y/N) your first family meeting, welcome officially to the blinders.” Tommy said staring at you as you sat shyly across the table.
“John said I was only going to be needed this one time, I don’t want to be involved anymore than that.”
“So you’ll listen to Johnny boy but not the big man,” Arthur winked at you whilst chuckling to himself.
“Shut up Arthur.” John scalded. Everyone knew something was going on between you two but no one exactly sure what. To be honest the two of you didn’t even know what.
“So what do you need me to do?” You asked getting the conversation away from the topic of you and John. John looked extremely uncomfortable when you asked this, he was avoiding eye contact with you and squirming in his chair.
“John will discuss that nearer the time. Anyway to the rest of the plan..”