#i’m gonna mcfucking lose it i try to shut up about it and ignore it but for fuck sake it makes me want to pull my eyes out

[ultraviolencced]

tumblr has the absolute worst vegan takes just saw “only for people with large amounts of money all the time” girl i have $7 in my bank account i’ve been vegan for 9 years and have been dirt poor the entire time. oh and i’m disabled which is apparently something only non vegans deal with so fuck poor disabled vegans amirite

#i’m gonna mcfucking lose it i try to shut up about it and ignore it but for fuck sake it makes me want to pull my eyes out #people just come on here make the most uneducated takes on things they don’t know anything about and won’t listen to vegans when they try #to educate them about their bad takes and they just block it out #it’s frustrating #shut the fuck up taylor #vegan things

[stoven-harrington]

Where do the time go (during the summer I spent with you)?

Steve Harrington X OC

This story happens a year after season 3, so Steve is now 20.

Steve Harrington AU in which Steve is dragged into 2019. With him here in the new modern world, going back to 1986 just might be possible. Time travel, new friends, old friends, with so much at hand, love shouldn’t be on the table. But life doesn’t always go as planned.

Part I

Chapter 2: Rene saves a Damsel in Distress

“Ahhhh what year is it?!” I jolt up from the bed and looked over at Nico, his face turning to the window next to us and growling. I groan and turn the light on in the room, throwing a pillow at him when I see that it’s 2 am. “You suck bro.” Getting up, I walk over to peek through the window and that’s when I see it. “What the fuck is a dude sleeping in our back yard?” Nico continues to growl and stare at the window. I could let him in, even though I really shouldn’t since he’s a stranger. As I gaze at the guy, the annoying part of my brain that’s a goody two shoes is nagging at me to help him. Despite it being summer, the nights get pretty cold. He could get sick or he could get attacked by an animal. Ugh to be nice or not to be nice? I mean, if I really think about it, if he tries anything, I could just sick Nico on him. Alright, I’m letting him in.

Throwing on some sweats and grabbing my bat, I head downstairs with Nico in tow. I wonder why that dude is even outside though? Eh, whatever. Putting on my shoes and opening the backyard door, I quickly walk over to the guy. Nico comes over and starts to sniff the guy before looking up at me. When I shine the light from my phone I notice some slime on him. One word: Gross. Using my bat as an extendo arm, I nudge the dude on the shoulder.

“Psst. You drunk?” I whisper, loud enough for him to hear me. Nothing. Seriously? I step closer and that’s when I notice the blood. And more of the slime. I quickly wipe it off my hand and notice that his whole body is covered in it. There’s a thin trail of blood coming from his hairline and he’s knocked the fuck out. Damn, he could have a concussion. I turn the dude over and try to lift him up, ignoring the grossness of the slime on my hands and the faint smell of eggs.

“Jesus, how much does this dude freakin weigh?” Checking out the rest of his body, I see a torn pant leg and lift it up, gasping at the wound and blood pouring out. Fuck, just what the hell happened to this dude? As I struggle to pick him up, Nico starts growling towards the forest. “Nico: Тихо*.” He shuts up after that and the only sound around us other than the animals in the forest is something else. It sends shivers down my spine as I feel the hair on my neck stand up.

The voice is unnatural and looking into the trees I spot the thing making that ungodly sound: a creature on two legs and slimy looking about more than 100 feet away from us. I stop moving and watch, hoping, praying that it’ll go away but FUCK man this sucks. I mean, I could leave this dude and save myself but nah. My morals and guilt would eat me alive and getting attacked by this thing doesn’t look like a good time. So: I’ll save this damsel in distress. He certainly seems like a damsel though, what with that full set of hair and nice face. God, what a pretty boy. Nico doesn’t make a sound or even move and I’ve never been more grateful for training him to be such a good boy. If we make it, I sure as hell was gonna give him a shit-ton of treats and tummy rubs.

After waiting maybe a minute or two, the creepy creature snaps its neck towards a deer not to far from it and starts chasing after it. I could feel my heart racing and almost fall down in relief. As long its not us, screw the deer. Oh god-wait, I hope it doesn’t kill Bambi. Who am I kidding? It’s totally gonna kill Bambi.  You’ll always live through the Disney movie. Ahh, I should focus here, I got this pretty boy with me at the moment.

But really, just what in the mcfuck was that? Could this dude be running away from that abomination? It would explain the slime that he’s covered in but ughh the smell SUCKS. Wait. Checking on the dude again, he still hadn’t woken up but was still breathing. Okay, that’s good but how the hell am I getting his ass inside? At this point he’s not gonna wake up and he ain’t gonna feel anything right?  Guess I’ll just drag him inside.

Grabbing his hands, I start dragging him back inside the house, slowly and quietly as to not make a lot of noise. If that creature comes back, oh it is ON but it’s too early to be throwing hands with something that will definitely kill me. Nico follows us in until I reach the stairs. I lose sight of the big doof I call my dog as I groaned. Gazing down at the dude covered in slime, I debated whether or not to wipe the slime off before or after the stair climb. Pro to him being slimed up: he could slide up the stairs with ease and less effort. Con: he’d get slime all over the wooden steps and I’d have to clean it up anyways. Not to mention the possibility of me slipping on my ass down the steps in the morning. Okay, not covered in slime it is.

Sitting him up against the stair railing, I run to grab a towel. It got me thinking: Even after I bring him up, what next? A bath right? I mean, I wouldn’t want to wake up smelling like trash plus I should try to clean his head wound and that wound on his leg. Heading back and kneeling next to him, I start wiping him down, gentle of his head. I briefly lift the torn pant leg, thankful it’s not bleeding again.

The only bedrooms are all upstairs and this guy could really use a nice bed and a serious bath cause oof. Looking at him though, my heart tugged at him. I mean, what kind of shitty luck did you have to have in order to get knocked out, cut his leg and a possible concussion? I couldn’t stop the sigh escaping my lips.

“Oh well, wondering isn’t gonna get me anywhere, up the stairs we go.”

*Тихо= Quiet in Russian. Rene taught Nico command words in different languages so that Nico would listen to certain people like her and her aunt.

Continue reading: Part III

or

Read it here on archive of our own

#stranger things #steve harrington x oc #steve the hair harrington #stranger things kids #boi do i love this man #post season 3 #steve is now 20 #will byers #nancy wheeler #dustin henderson

[alexsunmners]

Shot At the Night VI

Alex Summers x Reader, Chapter 6/6

A/N: It’s finally mcfucking finished holy shit. Thanks for sticking with me through my months of procrastination, and I hope you enjoyed it. Please please please give me some feedback bc it’s my lifeblood and I need it to survive. 

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / ao3

Tags: @kurtwxgners @put-in-writing @shayara @raypclmer @emmcfrxst @karazorelsgf @rax-writes @frostypalmer @vodkaauntwithwings @jubillee  @stovehairington @condorlana @fantasticallycaitlin @a-girl-who-loves-disney @scorletwitch @cheylovesmotox @littlemissvicki @one-secondof-thevamps @brooke-supernatural16 @icepeters-book-trash @bookchic20 @fandomiteen @captain-ducks-swim-in-the-pond @notsofastmaximoff

You try to go back to sleep. You really do try. After the apartment door swings closed, you just sit on the edge of Alex’s bed, frozen in place. The past three months play on repeat in your mind, flitting through as if on fast forward and you’re not seeing the time filtering past as a whole, you’re seeing the individual moments. The ones where you let yourself buy into the façade of dating a little too deeply. You’re holding his hand in a supermarket aisle and calling him babe. Kissing him on the couch and telling yourself that it’s for practice. That you don’t feel anything but platonic affection for him. He’s introducing himself to your friends as your boyfriend with his arm around your waist.

You can feel tears working their way down your cheeks, but you’re barely aware of them, still lost in your memories. Skip forwards another two weeks and you’re sharing a bed. Your mental recap freezes on the moment you woke up beside him, and your heart actually lurches at the remembrance of his drowsy blue eyes and messy hair and the sleepy smile he gave you. The tears are coming faster now, and as you reach up to wipe them from your face, you can’t help but feel fucking ridiculous. How did you ever let yourself think that he wanted you too? How did you ever let this whole absurd charade get this far?

The mental play through of your pseudo relationship is still going. You’re getting drinks with Angel and she’s telling you Alex makes you happy. How whatever is between the two of you is serious. Alex is sitting on the couch with you again, only this time he looks like he might fall apart and all you want to do is hold him. Something stutters in your mind and then you’re kissing him, and for two seconds it’s perfect and then he pulls away and it’s your turn to fall apart. The memories evaporate and you feel like you’re suffocating because the sheets you’re sitting on are still warm and they smell like him and you’re suddenly so aware of just how head over goddamn heels you’ve managed to fall for him.

Somehow you manage to stumble out and back to your room, collapsing on your bed, curled in on yourself as you remember the panicked expression in his eyes as he pushed you away. It’s normal for rejection to sting, but this feels like your heart has been ripped out and you’re so aware of exactly what kind of cliché you’re living right now but you don’t care that this closely resembles a scene from any generic rom com one might care to name because it hurts too fucking much.

Alex still isn’t back when you wake up. Despite your best efforts to the contrary, you must have somehow managed to slip into a fitful sleep because you open your eyes to weak early morning light filtering through your blinds. You listen carefully to the sounds in the apartment, not sure whether you’re hoping to hear someone else there or not. Regardless of what you were hoping for, the apartment is resoundingly empty, and something in your chest crumples a little at the emptiness echoing back at you. Eventually you drag yourself up from your pillows and into the kitchen to make coffee, wishing it were at least past noon so you could indulge in something a little stronger and more likely to make you feel better without feeling like the tragic second choice from a shitty romance novel. The coffee does help, though.

The hours in the day wear on, and Alex still doesn’t come back to the apartment. You make lunch and then don’t do much more than toy with it on your plate. You sit on the couch and turn the tv on but don’t watch it. The clock is ticking faintly in the background and you hate how acutely aware you are of the noise the second hand makes as it works its way around the face. It’s late afternoon when you hear the lock click and the door swing quietly open. The careful footsteps pause behind where you’re sitting on the couch and then move on after a moment, shuffling towards his bedroom. It’s agony, but you’re too proud to bring up the previous night if he isn’t going to do it first.

Afternoon slowly turns to evening and then to night. You’re exhausted but there’s something that’s a uniquely painful mix of adrenaline and indignant, self-righteous fury buzzing in your veins and you know sleep is a long way off, so you flick aimlessly through Netflix and try to find something to distract you. You hear Alex’s door open as he comes out to get himself some dinner, and again, he pauses behind where you’re sitting on the couch, resolutely ignoring his presence. He walks to the kitchen and then pauses again before turning around, walking back to stand behind you. The tension builds and builds between the two of you as he just watches you ignore him, and then he sighs heavily.

“Are we just not gonna talk about last night, then?” His voice is quiet but it sends a shiver down your spine and you still don’t turn around because you don’t know if you can manage looking at him right now.

“What’s there to talk about?” you ask steadily, as unconcerned as you can manage to make it sound. Alex sighs and you hear footsteps again as he makes his way round to the side of the couch, but you resolutely keep your gaze trained on the tv, though nothing is playing. “You had a nightmare, I calmed-tried to calm you down, you needed air so you left.”

You can see Alex’s hands clench into fists in your peripheral vision as he says “You know exactly what I mean. Don’t play dumb. It doesn’t suit you.” There’s a low note of anger in his voice and it’s enough to push you into motion, turning to look at him for the first time since last night. He looks like shit. There are circles under his eyes and it wouldn’t take much convincing to make you believe he hasn’t slept since he woke up at two am. His hair is a mess and his hands are shaking a little and his eyes are intense with an emotion you can’t quite name. “You kissed me.”

“You ran away from me,” you snap at him, your hands balling in the too long sleeves of your sweater as you glare at him furiously, trying to keep the tears pricking at the back of your eyes at bay. “I think that makes your feelings on the matter abundantly clear, thanks Alex. I don’t see what there is to talk about.”

“I didn’t run away,” he starts, but you cut him off, scoffing and swiping angrily at your eyes, having failed to keep the tears from falling.

“Sure fucking felt like running away to me,” you spit bitterly. “It’s okay. I get it. You don’t have feelings for me. It’s fine. I understand. I won’t try and get you taken off as my security or whatever, I’m not that kind of asshole, you won’t-”

“I don’t have feelings for you?” Alex’s gaze has the low intensity of someone losing their control over their emotions and it makes you freeze up, eyes locked on him. “You think that’s why-(Y/N), I have nothing but feelings for you. Shit, every fucking day for the past month has been like-I left because you are entirely too much for me to be able to think straight around you.” Your breath catches in your throat and you feel like your heart might pound out of your chest as he keeps going. “I left last night-yeah, it probably seemed like running away and yeah you’re right to be angry, just-” he takes a small, hesitant step towards you, one hand going to brace on the back of the couch as his eyes burn into yours. “Did you kiss me because you were trying to make me feel better, or was it something more because I have to know.”

It seems fucking miraculous that you manage to make your voice work at all, but somehow you manage to whisper “It was more. I kissed you because I have feelings for you, not-” you break off for a second, momentarily lost for words. “I fucking care about you, Alex. A lot.”

You’re both utterly still for a moment, just staring at one another, both deeply aware of the immense emotional volatility in the room. Then Alex takes an agonizingly slow step around the couch towards you. And then another. You swear you can hear the roaring of your heart as he sinks down onto the couch in front of you, tentatively reaching out to just barely brush his fingertips over the skin of your jaw. Your eyes reflexively slip shut as he hesitantly cradles your cheek in his hand, close enough for you to feel his breath on your face.

“Say it again,” he whispers hoarsely. “Please.”

Your hands are shaking and your eyes are still closed and your voice is scarcely audible as you breathe “I care about you.”

For one long, painful moment, he doesn’t react. And then, slowly and softly and so, so carefully, Alex leans forwards to press his lips to yours. It’s the barest brush of pressure but it sends a wave of relief and affection surging through you so strongly that if you weren’t sitting, it might have buckled your knees. His hand is still cupping your cheek, and you blindly reach one of your hands out to curl round his bicep, feeling his warmth and stability under your touch as he kisses you gently. It’s like flying and freefall and drowning all at once and you don’t think, just lose yourself in the feeling of his lips against yours. This is so monumentally different to the dry, quick kisses you’ve shared in front of friends, and worlds away from the momentary bliss of the night before. Kissing Alex now is something real and tangible and utterly addictive.

He pulls back a moment later, his forehead leaning against yours, his eyes closed and you’re pretty sure you’d be happy to stay in this moment forever. “I care about you,” he murmurs, a small smile tugging at his lips, and you give in to your impulse and just wrap yourself around him, shifting closer till you’re pressed up against him and your arms are around his shoulders as you bury your face against the crook of his neck, breathing him in. A second later he wraps his arms around your waist, one hand stroking idly up and down along your spine as he holds you close, the two of you content to just exist inside your little bubble of this perfect moment for as long as the rest of the world will let you.

“So, where does that put us?” you mumble against his skin, still not relinquishing your grip on him. You can feel him shrug languidly as his palm continues to rub slowly over your back.

“Wherever we want to be, I guess,” he says quietly. “I-what I feel for you is-it’s stronger than anything I’ve had before,” he continues almost reluctantly.

You nod, your face still tucked against the crook of his neck, and you can feel the tension drop from his shoulders as you murmur a soft “me too.”

“Maybe it’s-I dunno, maybe it’s love or whatever, or maybe it’s not. We might get married or this could blow up in a week, but whatever it is we have-it’s special. And I want to figure it out. Together,” Alex finishes, still stroking lightly along the curve of your back. You pull up from his neck to look at him properly, a small, utterly smitten smile tugging at your lips as you study his open, affectionate expression.

“I’d like that,” you whisper, and the answering smile he gives you is brilliant and dizzying and it feels like home.

#Alex Summers #Alex Summers x reader #alex summers imagine #alex summers fanfiction #havok x reader #havok #x men #x men imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #havok imagine #my writing #bodyguard