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magiccath · 4 months

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Psychic paper

tenth doctor x GN!reader

Summary: In which the psychic paper betrays the Doctor

A/N: The Doctor is fruity, deal with it xx

You’d been traveling with the Doctor for a while now and you loved every minute of it. In that time he had shown you all kinds of things you had priorly deemed impossible; aliens with wiggly tentacles, a spaceship that defies the laws of 3 dimensional space, a buzzing device he calls the Sonic Screwdriver, and homicidal salt shakers with toilet plungers for arms to name just a few.

It seemed that with every adventure he showed you something new and fascinating, constantly topping himself without even trying. There was so much in all of time and space it wasn’t that hard. Anything outside of the 21st century was new to you.

This time, the Doctor had taken you to see a mechanics factory in the 35th century, but as always the adventure didn’t end there. Aside from new experiences, the Doctor could almost always promise some kind of trouble. He claimed he didn’t go searching for it but rather that it tended to follow him. Either way, most adventures with the Doctor involved some kind of mischief and usually a lot of running.

“It’s no good, you can only get in with an ID,” you groaned, popping your head back around the corner. “There’s a security guard checking everyone going in and out is an employee.”

You were hiding in a hallway, hoping to get inside the establishment's headquarters. The Doctor had a hunch that malicious alien forces were behind the operation, but he couldn’t be sure without poking around further. Typical Doctor, he just couldn’t leave well enough alone.

“I can’t think of any legal ways to get in there,” you shrugged, turning to the Doctor for ideas.

“I have identification,” the Doctor smirked, rummaging around in the seemingly endless pockets of his coat.

“You’re not an employee,” you pointed out.

The Doctor made a triumphant sound as he pulled what appeared to be a small black notebook out of the depths of his pocket. He flipped it open and you realized it wasn’t a notepad. The item was more like a police badge, minus the actual badge part.

He turned the paper towards you with a smile, clearly expecting you to be impressed

“Aren’t I?” He grinned brightly, looking at you eagerly. “Psychic paper,” he explained, tapping the stark white paper with his finger.

You grabbed the item from him, squinting at it. You wanted to make sure you were reading it right, maybe your eyes were acting up.

“This just says ‘I love you’?” You asked, handing the Doctor his weird paper back with a frown.

“I think that flirting with the security guard is more of a Jack move,” you winced, not wanting to hurt his feelings. The Doctor was quite the charmer, but strategic flirting wasn’t his strong suit.

The Doctor grabbed his psychic paper from you, frowning at it aggressively. It wasn’t supposed to say that.

“What-?” he asked, glaring at it the same way you did. Once the words registered with him he turned a dark shade of red. He should have been more careful when he handed it over to you.

“It’s not supposed to say that,” he mumbled his thoughts, trying to hide his fluster.

“How does it work? Is it like a reusable notepad?” You asked, genuinely interested. Even if the Doctor’s tools could be finicky, they were interesting. Maybe he had just forgotten to erase the message from the last time he used it.

“No, it’s supposed to show the reader what I want them to see,” he blushed, shaking the paper out like a Polaroid. Usually shaking the item would clear it, but those three words refused to fade from the paper.

“Sometimes it’s a bit slow…” he said, really more to himself than to you. He was still shaking the paper, desperately trying to get the words to disappear.

“So you were going to try and flirt with the security guard?” You frowned, now you were even more confused. The Doctor would much rather blow the whole place up than try and flirt his way through security.

“No!” He said, almost a bit too quickly. He blushed again and averted his gaze, an anxious hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. He hadn’t planned on telling you like this. He hadn’t planned on telling you at all.

“When I handed it over it was supposed to show you an employee ID,” he winced. You nodded, this much you knew. What you didn’t understand was the confession of love.

“But I think the psychic paper picked up on my feelings instead,” he whispered. If you hadn’t been listening intently you might have missed the last few words.

“Are you saying that you love me?” You frowned, looking at the floor with concentration, “or the security guard?” The second option seemed more viable at the moment.

For the first time in a century, the Doctor was speechless. He stared at you, wide-eyed and unblinking as you waited for his answer. If it was possible, his jaw might have fallen to the floor.

“He’s pretty handsome, I can’t blame you,” you added, peeking over the wall to look at the security guard again.

The Doctor shook himself out of it, rambling a string of incoherent words. “I- uh, wha-?” He stumbled, trying to form a sentence.

“I handed the paper to you.” He said definitively.

“It’s a really dramatic way to come out, Doctor.” You continued on, ignoring him. It’s not like you didn’t know already, he wasn’t exactly subtle about it.

“It didn’t say ‘I love men’!” He threw his hands up in distress. “It said ‘I love you’!”

You finally stopped rambling on about the security guard and turned your attention to the Doctor. His words caught up to you and tentatively you pointed at yourself as if there was any other you. The Doctor nodded exasperatedly as if to say “Yes, you!”

“You love me?” you asked, still pointing at yourself.

“I think I’ve said it about four times now.”

“You?” You pointed at the Doctor, “Love me?”

“Blimey! Yes!” He shouted, frustrated now. You widened your eyes and anxiously checked around you, scared he might have given away your location. Thankfully, everyone appeared to be out of earshot.

“Yes, I love you,” he whispered this time, his eyes boring into yours. You blinked slowly, your brain still refusing to process his confession.

You smiled brightly, your grin taking over your entire face. The Doctor loved it when you lit up like this, your happiness radiating off of you. He felt a small smile of his own tugging at his lips just looking at you.

“I hope that’s alright,” he whispered quietly. He would never forgive himself if he lost you over a psychic paper mishap. The embarrassment would be too much - he’d have to run away. Maybe to that planet inhabited by only rubber ducks?

“That’s more than alright,” you grinned, a hand instinctively reaching up to his arm to comfort him. The fabric of his coat was cold against your palm, but you didn’t pull away.

The Doctor really smiled back at you now, the wild lopsided grin that was reserved just for you. The kind of smile that always made you laugh with joy.

He wasted no time wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting your body off the ground in excitement. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your familiar scent. You laughed happily, waving your feet about slightly.

The Doctor pulled back just enough to kiss you, his lips soft and gentle against yours. Neither of you could stop smiling, even as your lips met. You laughed against him, planting kisses across his face sloppily. Your lips brushed the tip of his nose, the arch of his cheekbone, the corner of his mouth, and his jawline.

“The security guard is pretty cute though,” the Doctor teased with a sly smile.

“I knew it!” You burst out laughing, throwing your head back as you did.

#10th doctor x reader #10th doctor/reader #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor/reader #doctor who #tenth doctor #10th doctor #david tennant #fanfic #fanfiction #doctor who fanfiction #the doctor x reader #the doctor/reader #the doctor #psychic paper #doctor who bbc

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 20 days

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Paper Rings - A Joel Miller Drabble

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 750 Summary: Signs of you are all over Joel's bedroom in Jackson. Warnings: Smut, slight somnophilia, drinking.

Thank you to @beskarandblasters for the amazing Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge, I picked Lover because I've been listening to a lot more of it as the weather begins to get warmer. "Paper Rings" is definitely not my favorite Taylor song, but oh my god I LOVED writing this about Joel, it fits perfectly for him.

If you want more Joel. My works are here, here, and here.

***

The story of your romance with Joel Miller could be told with just one look around his bedroom.

The picture frame on his dresser with a picture that you painted of the two of you the night you met.

It was quite a meeting, a quick slip on the ice as you stepped off the curb on your way to the Tipsy Bison to celebrate Tommy’s birthday, Joel jumping towards you to catch you. His hand grabbing your blue jacket’s shoulder before you fell into the large pool of water leftover from the melting snow. You both making your way to the Bison together, his handsome face taking your breath away once you saw him in the light of the high moon. You became fast friends, urged on by Tommy and Maria’s matchmaking. Your friendship accidentally turning into something more after a night of drinking and dancing together in Joel’s kitchen. The two of you sharing your first kiss as you slowly swayed along to a Neil Young record. The kiss turning heated, turning into Joel taking you from behind as you gripped his kitchen countertop.

The books you’ve read stacked up on the table beside your side of the bed. Your favorite chapters marked with the bookmarks you made.

He’d always try to bring you home a book to make up for how early he’d have to leave for patrol on Monday mornings, the day always being more sad and dreary due to his absence. He’d always succeed at not waking you up until he’d kiss you goodbye. He found it hard to control himself when he’d hear you let out a small sleep drunk moan as his lips touched yours. Some mornings he could manage it and walk away, and others he’d be late to the stables, leaving you satiated and smiling after gently fucking you in the light of dawn.

The comforter rumpled on the floor in the corner, left there from when Joel threw it off the bed last night before he made love to you.

Your glass is still sitting on the coffee table half full of wine, the thought of finishing it out of your mind once Joel began kissing your neck. You were teasing each other all day, playing a game of cat and mouse. Biding your time until both of you couldn’t take it, Joel stalking behind you up the steps as he threw his shirt off and started unbuttoning his jeans.

The t-shirt of Joel’s you wear to bed with the large blue paint stain on it from the time you helped him paint Tommy’s house.

He loves to see you in it, your body filling it out in places he loves to touch. He loves how you smell of him whenever you wear it, how it sits against your smooth skin. He loves it when you ride him while wearing it, seeing his clothes on his girl as you grind your hips.

The sheets on the bed always on your side, Joel sleeps warm, he never needs a blanket.

You like to watch him sleep, his face more at peace, his breathing relaxed and slow. A small grunt usually escaping his mouth when he turns away from you, followed by a hum of contentment when you wrap your arm around him. Sometimes you’ll wake up before him just to watch the rise and fall of his chest quicken as you take his cock into your mouth. Joel always waking up thinking he was having a dirty dream until he looks down and meets your eyes staring up at him. A small half smile as he realizes what comes next, his tired eyes growing larger with lust.

The jewelry hung from the hooks surrounding the mirror above his dresser.

The mirror that Joel loves to watch himself kiss you in. Sometimes because you had a long night. Sometimes because it’s the best way he knows to tell you it’s gonna be alright. Sometimes because he waited his whole life for you. He loves to stand behind you and watch his reflection touch you, he loves watching you gasp as he sticks his hand down your pants.

The paper rings on each of your nightstands.

Joel secretly teaching himself how to fold them as a way to surprise you until he could find a ring that would fit you. He just couldn’t wait to make you his wife.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller/reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #taylor swift #paper rings #tlou fanfic #tlou joel

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strawberryspence · 2 years

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OH MY GOOOOOOOOD !!! I LOVE TURMOIL !!!

Eddie calling Steve sweetheart is canon now by the way every fanfic writer uses it. They’re not even dating yet and it’s always, “Steve, sweetheart, please hand me the towel.” or “Sweetheart, did you eat?” or “You’re wrong, sweetheart, it’s this way.”

He only ever calls Steve, Stevie or sweetheart and at first, Steve thinks it’s a joke. Like big boy, you know? Steve’e never had anyone call him pet names, it’s always him calling girls baby or babe. But then it’s three months later, and his hands get clammy and his stomach gets butterflies when Eddie calls him Sweetheart, his voice dipping lower, giving his signature cheeky smile, his dimples dipping with the slope of his smile, brown eyes shining with a glint. Steve realizes he’s in love with Eddie fucking Munson and wants to be his sweetheart.

The longer it goes on, Steve feels more special. The implications of the pet name making his heart grow twice its size. He’s never been anyone’s sweetheart. Yeah, they’re not dating and maybe Eddie doesn’t like him the same way he likes him but Steve is sweetheart to Eddie, no one else and that’s good enough for Steve. Eddie does it so often that by now no one questions it (not even the kids, who was visibly confused the first time Eddie asks them, “Where’s sweetheart?” and even more confused to find out that he was looking for Steve.) and it’s just normal that Eddie calls Steve sweetheart.

Until the whole adult (Jonathan, Nancy, Robin, Argyle) squad goes to The Hide Out to watch Corroded Coffin perform. It’s packed with people, somehow Eddie’s murder allegations brings more people. It’s after the performance and they’re all drinking with Jeff, Gareth and Paul. They’re taking shots, playing drinking games, doing normal teenage stuff in bars.

Eddie’s openly gay with them now, he’s the first to do so in the group to ease Robin in (which makes Steve fall in love with him more). So yeah, it’s normal that after a performance a few boys (even girls) approach Eddie. Steve gets jealous, yes. But he doesn’t begrudge them for it, 1. They’re not dating and 2. Have you fucking seen Eddie? With all that liner, mesh crop top showing lines of scars and tight ass jeans that leaves nothing to the imagination. Don’t even get Steve started with the way his hair is tied up.

But then, one guy is openly flirting with Eddie and Eddie’s smiling and teasing back, and Steve’s heart is suddenly lodged at his throat. Eddie invites the guy to play with them, introducing him as James, and Steve ignores the side glances his friends give him as he excuses himself to get more shots.

They’re all playing having fun, everything was going fine until James takes a shot and it goes through the wrong pipe, he’s coughing loudly and harshly. Steve, because he’s Steve, gets a bottle of water for James, passing it to Eddie, who opens it for James. Everyone’s watching them.

When it finally settles down, “Oh god, that was painful.” James was laughing and Eddie’s laughing with him as he says, “Looks like it, sweetheart.”

It’s not even Steve who reacts first. Not Robin, Not Nancy. It’s Jonathan, he’s halfway through a drink and the glass just slips out his hands, hitting the ground and breaking into pieces as he gasps. Jonathan’s not even looking at the broken glass, just at Eddie. Eddie’s visibly confused, asking him if he’s okay.

When it fully loads to the whole group, Robin’s almost immediately up on her feet, fists first, she’s drunk, but not drunk enough to not think straight, but drunk enough to have the strength of an elephant. It takes Nancy and Argyle to hold her back. She’s screaming incoherent strings of curses. Eddie’s still confused, James looks downright scared.

Steve’s just sitting there. Open mouth, looking at the commotion as it sinks in. Maybe it was him, maybe it was all in his head, maybe he made it all up and maybe he wasn’t that special. Maybe sweetheart was just a name Eddie calls anyone, any guy and Steve was just another guy. Because why would anyone reserve the name sweetheart for Steve fucking Harrington? He's not that special.

He stands up, making Robin pause her rant as Steve holds out his hand to her, “You’re drunk. Let’s go home.” Robin stares at him, their own version of silent conversation before Steve adds, his voice wavering, “Please.” Robin nods, takes his hand, pulling him out of the place without questions.

Eddie’s left there, gobsmacked confused as to what just happened. James excuses himself, maybe because Jonathan’s glaring at the two of them like they’re Vecna.

“What happened?”

Jonathan’s glare intensifies. Nancy’s quietly judging him. Gareth's looking at him like he's the biggest idiot in town. Jeff and Paul are avoiding eye contact.

Argyle's the one who speaks first, "Brochacho, you just called James, sweetheart.”

“So?” Eddie asks. He’s actually confused to what the hell just happened.

“My dude, you only call our beautiful Steve, sweetheart. Sweetheart is Steve. Steve is Sweetheart. Only him. We’re just surprised you called another dude sweetheart. That’s why Buckley’s ready to fight you for Steve’s honor.”

Only then does Eddie realize what he’s done.

Fuck, he’s so screwed.

PART 2

#MWAHHSHAHAHSHSAHHSHA #lemme finish my paper nad ill write a part 2 #steddie #steddie rants #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #daeheadcanons #steddie headcanon #steddie fanfic #steddie fic rec #i love steddie #skittle six #spicy six

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selvyyr · 29 days

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Thank you for making my request☺️🫶 . So what about Miss Circle x Wife!Reader where they both got married? Reader often brings Miss Circle lunch when she forgets to bring lunch, which of course includes Oreos. Reader owns a bakery so she often bakes Oreos for Miss Circle. Hehe I love Miss Circle so much😩🫶❤️

A/N:HII!!OFC AND FEEL FREE TO REQUEST AGAIN!<3

|MASTERLIST!|

୧ ‧₊˚🩸🎞⋅ ☆

↪You and miss circle married for long time and she really does love you just like how you love her

↪You know her job and that she killed students..You were fine with it as long as she doesn't hurt anyone suddenly..

↪You own a really popular bakery and your most deserts are oreo flavored and many others

↪You would often go to the school and give her lunch

↪Miss circle really loves the oreo flavored deserts and stuff you make it's really tasty

↪When she comes home from work,she would be always greeted with the sweet smell of the oreo flavored desert in the kitchen

↪When you two go to bed,she would kiss you and hug you closely..

୧ ‧₊˚🩸🎞⋅ ☆

#fanfic #selvyyr answers #request #fundamental paper education x reader #fundamental paper education #miss circle x reader

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nymphacae · 3 days

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did some digging through files and i found more art i posted on twitter back in like '22 but not on tumblr.....enjoy some old paper trails sketches if you're into that kinda thing + the only doodle i could manage today

#my art #infinity train #infinity train fanfic #paper trails #ryan akagi #min-gi park #rymin #tulip olsen #kez

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finntheehumaneater · 3 months

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These dirt roads are empty, the ones we paved ourselves

part two

Just a short little thing so that I can’t panic and back out of finishing this fic. Based on this post by @eddie4bat-president. And I hope it was okay that I wrote it, it just SPOKE TO ME

title from “A House In Nebraska” by Ethel Cain (as always 🩵)

Steve knew that Nancy wasn’t going to work out. He knew, but he was holding onto what little hope he had left that maybe, just maybe, he was wrong. That maybe this would last and he wouldn’t have to end up alone again—crawling back to Tommy like a fucking obedient dog because even though he was friends with Billy, he was still all Steve had left.

Carol didn’t talk to him anymore. She went off with her friends. Nancy said that was a good thing—that he was away from Carol and Tommy and that he was friends with Jonathan now, even though he and Jonathan only ever hung out when Nancy forced them too. But she didn’t understand. Tommy and Carol may have been assholes, and he had always known that, but he had been one, too, but they knew too much to just drop him like they had.

It hadn’t been easy. There had been yelling and fighting when they all met up at Steve’s house the next time. Tommy had thrown something—a vase, maybe—and Steve had gotten in trouble for that when his mom had gotten home. He had told her that she had broken it. She wouldn’t have believed him if he had said it had been Tommy, but he didn’t want there to be a chance. His mom was bad, but Tommy’s mom was worse.

“Steve?” A voice cut through the fog shrouding him and he turned, his eyes searching Nancy’s face. She had that look in her eyes—like she was mad at him. He didn’t know what for. It was expected and annoyed, and it made his shoulders drop.

He cleared his throat.

“Yeah? Nance?”

“I asked if you brought your things?” She repeated, slowly. Like she thought that Steve wouldn’t be able to hear her if she talked normally. It stabbed through him like a knife—but he wasn’t mad, he knew she was just annoyed and she didn’t mean anything by it. She was just…like this.

“I, uh…” he spun around, looking over his shoulder and nearly bumping into something. Lots of faces. Loud. Lockers….oh. School hallway. Right. He forgot it was Tuesday. “No. No, I left…my backpack in the kitchen.”

Nancy scowled, and Steve wanted to be anywhere but at school. The people here didn’t like him anymore, not since Billy. He didn’t want to be shoved around by people who thought he was worthless now that he wouldn’t make fun of people.

“You left it in the kitchen,” she repeated, her eyes narrowing.

Steve nodded, his face flushed. It wasn’t his fault. She had practically thrown herself at him near the counter, pushing him against it with something desperate in her kisses and her touches, smoothing over his arms and his chest and his shoulders. It hadn’t really seemed like she was into it, but she had started it, and he knew better than to ask—just going along with it and letting her have what she (maybe) wanted from him. Anything if it kept her close and (maybe) happy. “We were…we were kissing, I…”

“You forgot it because we were kissing?” She sounded accusatory now, her fingers twitching from where they were digging into her white cardigan, arms crossed over her chest. It was one of the ones with little pink flowers—that he had gotten her from Christmas—laid over the long green dress that sweeped to her ankles, winched at the waist and sort of pleated, the cotton scratchy. His mom had bought that for her after she found out they were dating. Said she deserved something nice from her since she seemed like such a nice girl. And she was. She was a nice girl.

“I got distracted,” he whispered, stepping forward and cupping his hand around her elbow, knowing that she kind of hated when he got touchy in public now—didn’t get why because she used to love it—because he just needed to touch something or he was going to lose his mind among the kids smoking over by the bathrooms and the girls chatting by his locker. One of them was leaning against it. He was dreading asking her to move in a minute. “I-it’s fine, though, Nance, really. I have all my books in my—in my locker. I’ll be okay.”

He watched careful, cautiously, when the corner of her mouth quirked up and she breathed out a laugh, pressing her hands to his shoulders and pulling herself up onto the toes of her sneakers to press her lips to his cheeks, murmuring, “what am I going to do with you, Steve Harrington?”

Steve smiled, wrapping his hands around her waist and shrugging, feeling her hands press down a bit harder when he did to keep herself steady. “Dunno, Nancy Wheeler.”

She scoffed, leaning back slightly and falling back to flat feet, slipping her hands down to his chest, lightly gripped at the fabric of his t-shirt. An old one that he let her take without asking because that’s what girlfriends and boyfriends were supposed to do, right? She never wore them out in public like Carol wore Tommy’s clothes, though. But Nancy was different. “Don’t call me by my full name.”

“But you can call me by mine?” He teased lightly, pressing a kiss to her hairline, moving down to her eyebrow and only stopping when she laughed and gently grabbed his jaw, pushing him back. His hands slipped from her waist.

“Yours sounds better.”

“Mmm, does it?”

She nodded, crossing her arms again. “Yeah.”

“I mean—Nancy Harrington…kinda sounds nice, don’t you think?” He was only joking—and he didn’t mean to make her upset by it, honest, it was a joke—but he watched as her shoulders rose up to her ears, tense and tight, shrugging and looking away. Towards one of the posters for that weird club her younger brother wanted to join. They didn’t take middle schoolers, though.

“We should get to class. Steve,” She whispered, saying his name as an afterthought, like she forgot who she had been talking to. She reached out to brush her hand down his arm quickly, fixing the sleeve of his t-shirt from where it had hiked up before she turned. He didn’t follow her for a moment.

He didn’t know how he had fucked this up so badly. She had her future all planned out—and apparently she didn’t know if he was a part of it. She was going to go to some fancy college up north and become a journalist. And he fit in there somewhere if he was still around.

He had thought that she was in his future, too. A house, six kids, long drives on the coast to beaches that would leave sand in their shoes for years…he hadn’t told her that, though. She wouldn’t have liked it. Called it what it was. A dream. Because who would want kids with him? Everyone turned into their parents. And six controlling and manipulative people was six too many. Seven too many if you counted himself. It was only a matter of time before he started to enjoy those meetings he was occasionally dragged to. Before he would cut his hair short—buzz it, even—and marry young. Get rich. Get hateful. Get sick. Spend the rest of his life wishing and hoping that things would work out when they wouldn’t.

That’s what was in store for Steve Harrington. Never Steve Wheeler.

He asked the girl leaning on his locker to move and she did. Her hair was cut short, to her shoulders and light brown. She had been talking about band practice. Trumpet, maybe? He grabbed his books and walked to the classroom door. He stood outside and waited. For what? He didn’t even need to finish highschool. He could drop out. Work for his dad. Run away into the woods. Drown in the ocean with sand in his lungs.

Someone pushed past him, arms full and frizzy hair down past her shoulder, twisting and curling in a flash of deep, rich brown. Her leather jacket rubbed against his arm and she muttered something. Maybe a sorry, and then there was a thud, but she didn’t stop to pick up whatever she dropped—maybe she didn’t notice?

Her voice was deep. Pretty.

“Eddie!” Someone called, and he turned to see where she went but she was already gone. The thing was still there, though. A notebook. It looked a bit fancy, like she had spent a lot of money on it.

Eddie The Banished, it read on the first page. There were some notes, half-assed and not at all coherent. But mostly it was covered in drawings. Of things with horns and claws, people with pointed ears and flowing dresses, swords. Lots of swords. So many swords to the point that it was kind of concerning.

He picked it up. He would have given it back, but…the girl was gone. And he needed a notebook anyways…he’d find her after school. Besides, how many Eddie’s could there be? Maybe she belonged to that demon club thing. It seemed…like a place where people who really liked swords would hang out.

He slipped inside the classroom and gave Ms. Click a smile and a wave. She smiled and waved back, didn’t comment on how he was late or tell him to do better. Just watched him until he sat. The trumpet girl was behind him, glaring at him. That didn’t matter because Nancy was next to him, tugging the notebook out of his hands. “What’s this? I thought you left yours?”

He grabbed it back quickly, shrugging it off and setting his books down next to him. “Found a spare in the locker. Don’t use this one all that much. Dad bought it for me.”

Nancy eyed him suspiciously, like she didn’t believe him, but she dropped it. He looked up as the door opened and that red head walked in. Tam….Tammy? Tammy. Yeah. Her. It wasn’t like he hated her or anything, she was nice. But she was too optimistic. A total dud. Wanted to move to Nashville and become a singer. She couldn’t even sing, god, it was like she was tone deaf. And, because she always was, she was humming as she sat at the desk next to his.

And I need you now tonight….

And I need you more than ever…

He opened the notebook after giving her a small wave and a polite smile. He had forgotten lunch in his backpack, too. But it was good that he didn’t have a class before this today, because otherwise he would have been too tired. It was his off day from sports. To relax and hang out with his girlfriend.

He was going to miss his bagel, though. They were the highlight of the school day.

It was hard to find a blank page in the notebook, but when he did…the one next to it looked…great. He would have never been able to draw a hand that good. The lines were smudged, like the person was in a rush, and the page was crinkled slightly. He smoothed over it, careful not to damage the drawing further.

The hand was familiar, but he couldn’t place it. He saw a lot of hands in basketball. A lot of hands everyday. But there was a small dot on the side of the pinky. The hand was curved, like it was throwing something up and out. He looked down at his left hand. There was a dot there, too.

Next to the hand drawing was a shoddy person, just a shoulder and shirt collar with some curved lines for tousled hair at the neck. There were dots on that drawing, too. He felt behind his jaw, over the thin raised line from shaving yesterday morning—when Nancy had told him that his stubble had gotten too bad and it felt weird to kiss—and…shit, there were moles there. Three. Like in the drawing.

He flipped the page before anyone could see the drawing—didn’t need to be made fun of for being a nerd and for being soft—and tried to focus on Ms. Click as best as he could, all while feeling the piercing glare of Trumpet Girl and Tammy’s soft gaze. Nancy’s side-eyes as she made sure he was looking up towards the chalk board when Ms. Click wrote. His hands kept drifting back to his jaw. His mind kept drifting back to the drawing.

It was weird that the person in the drawings were (maybe) him. But it made sense. Girls at this school liked him. Tammy liked him. Trumpet Girl didn’t seem to, but he didn’t care. Nancy liked him. She did. She told him she loved him so she did, she wouldn’t lie about that. Not to him.

Maybe it was the same with that Eddie girl. Maybe Eddie liked him, too. That wouldn’t be surprising. He might be soft, but he still had great hair.

DISCLAIMER: this is not a Nancy hate fic!!! I love Nancy!!! Her and Steve are just not meant for each other :)

also I love fics where Steve seems Eddie briefly and goes “woman :)” and then meets him and goes “wait. No. What. Not a woman?”

Permanent taglist: @anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @here4thetrama @goodolefashionedloverboi

people who might be interested…?: @jadeylovesmarvelxo @precioussteveharrington @himbosandhardwear @steddiewithachance

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lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks · 8 days

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The hospital was shockingly easy to break into, though Dabi supposed it was more due to it being built for keeping mentally ill people with quirk restraints in as opposed to keeping villain terrorists with full access to their quirks out. A distinct oversight considering exactly which top ranking hero's wife was being housed there.

All Dabi had to do was burn open a hole in a metal fence hidden behind an overgrown bush (and if he almost set fire to said bush multiple times in the process that was nobody's business but his) and then climb a particularly perilous tree, shimmy across an extremely narrow and dubiously sturdy ledge, and slide the window open with one hand, all the while clutching a bouquet of blue rindous in the other.

Easy.

No sweat.

He could do it with his eyes closed. Probably. At least he'd say he could if anyone asked, which they wouldn't, because if anyone found out that the A rank cremation villain Dabi was breaking into a hospital to leave Endeavour's wife flowers every few weeks they'd be too concerned about the fact that they were now burning to death to ask any further questions.

Dabi always frowned slightly whenever the window slid open without resistance. The hospital still hadn't fixed the latch, which was great for Dabi since he wouldn't have to break it again, but he couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed by the hospital's incompetence.

Didn't they know just about any unwanted creep could crawl through a fence, climb up a tree, shimmy across a ledge, and climb into this window? If he weren't a highly wanted criminal of secretive origins he'd write a formal complaint.

Maybe he should just murder whoever was in charge of security, they might be replaced with someone who actually cared for the safety of their patients. He tucked that idea away for later.

For now he had to focus on making sure Rei Todoroki was asleep and wouldn't notice him, she was usually out like a light at this time of night, she hadn't even stirred that one time a piece of ledge dislodged beneath Dabi's foot and he let out a rather undignified squeak of terror. Maybe she was being sedated, he hoped it was willingly, he didn't dwell on that thought, it wasn't as though he could do anything about it if it wasn't.

He could see the outline of her body under the covers from the little amount of light provided by a streetlight beyond the boundary fence, no movement, good.

The vase was still on the windowsill, excellent, one time it had been moved to the bedside table and he'd almost had to crawl right inside to reach it.

Dabi pulled out the old wilted rindous and laid them down beside the vase before carefully passing the fresh flowers from one hand to the other, shifting his grip on the windowsill, leaving his body vulnerable to the unforgiving laws of gravity for a brief moment. He cursed his weak stomach as it lurched violently at the minor jolt, it didn't matter how often he did this, it made its displeasure known each and every time.

He tucked the flowers into the vase and gave the still figure on the bed one last glance before getting ready to shimmy back across the ledge. Something about her looked... odd, misshapen almost, maybe she'd gone to bed with her dressing gown still on. Strange since she didn't normally feel the cold.

He didn't have the luxury of dwelling on the thought, the nurses could be around for check in any minute, agonisingly they were never on a regular schedule.

He had just shuffled away from the window when fingers as cold as his own suddenly wrapped around his wrist. He spun his head so fast he nearly lost his balance, but the grip on his wrist kept him steady against the wall.

Steely grey eyes latched onto his as Rei Todoroki leaned halfway out the window, holding onto him tight.

"Touya." she breathed, expression bright and almost smug. "I knew it, I knew it was you. They said I was delusional , that you were dead, that Enji must be leaving the flowers, but he never remembered my favourites, but you knew, you always picked them out of the garden for me."

Dabi froze, mouth slightly ajar as a denial danced on the tip of his tongue, his reason keeping it at bay.

No, I'm just some random villain breaking onto hospital grounds to leave you flowers, Touya who? Like shit she'll buy that.

Instead he tugged half heartedly at his wrist.

"Let go." he growled.

"Don't leave me Touya." Rei almost sobbed, her grip tightening.

"Let go mum." said Dabi, his voice weaker this time.

"Touya please," he could see tears starting to glisten in the corners of her eyes under the pale streetlight. "Don't leave me."

No no don't you cry don't you dare cry, because if you start I'll start and the last thing you need to see right now is the fucked up living corpse of your son bleeding from the eyes.

Rei's grip was bruising, he could almost hear his wrist creak under the pressure. She probably wasn't even gripping that hard, as tough as he acted there was a reason Dabi stuck to long range attacks, his body was barely more than a brittle bag of bones, a stiff breeze could dislocate his joints, especially with how many times he'd popped his own wrists out of place to slip out of handcuffs.

"If I stay I'll be caught." he argued, wriggling his wrist more urgently, maybe if she felt it pop she'd let go. "I have to go."

"He won't let me leave." Rei said, her words coming in a breathless rush, frantic, desperate. "The doctors cleared me months ago but he won't let me leave Touya. Fuyumi tried everything, Natsuo tried everything, and Shouto wants to help but he's just a child."

Her eyes were wide with panic, the more Dabi pulled away the further she leaned dangerously out the window.

"And what the fuck am I supposed to do?" Dabi hissed, almost on the verge of panic himself, "I'm a criminal, a villain, you think anyone's gonna listen to me?"

"You're the only one left who can help me." Rei's voice was as steady as her hand. "I need you Touya."

Dabi very very much did not like how effectively those words punched the air from his lungs. Needed, she needed him, not Fuyumi, not Natsuo, not even perfect precious Shouto, she needed him. The failure, the fuckup.

No fuck you, you are not that pathetic, get it together you idiot.

"What do you want?" Dabi asked, his voice almost pleading as he kept tugging at his wrist, it still hadn't popped out, of all the times for his joints to behave themselves.

Rei leaned so far over the ledge that for a moment he almost thought she had lost balance, she stared at him with a burning intensity.

"Get me the fuck out of here."

edit: there is now a part two!

#lula's mha brainrot #lula's fanfics #whaaaat I'm putting one of the thousand fanfics in my head down on paper?#it's a christmas miracle #mha #my hero academia #mha fanfiction #dabi #touya todoroki #rei todoroki

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badasgirlfriend · 4 months

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paper rings ₊ ⊹ - bada lee social media au edit (soon)

this pretty much explains (somehow) how the smau is gonna be😍

comment if u wanna join the taglist ill be making for it

#talking with eli #bada lee #bada lee edit #bada lee imagine #bada lee fanfic #bada lee x reader #swf #bada lee x oc #gxg #paper rings smau #eli's smaus #bada lee x y/n #bada lee au #bada lee fanfiction #bada lee imagines

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mousy-nona · 1 month

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I truly believe that Alastor is scarier than Lucifer? Like ofc Lucifer is stronger and all that power scaling-wise, considering he's literally the Biggest Bad Of All Time, but this version of Lucifer has expressed how disappointed he is in humans because they're bad. I don't think he's the type to kill or go all Machiavelli on someone unless he really, really needs to. He's shown as an optimistic, kind, generally good-hearted and goofy guy.

But on the other hand you have Alastor, who kinda makes up his own rules as he goes. Like you've seen him be super nice when he wants to, but that's not his default setting. He likes to eat people?? He's LITERALLY a serial killer?? He has no limits other than the ones he puts on himself, and that's an actual villain.

So yeah yeah Lucifer is strong enough to like cause a nuclear winter but it doesn't really matter because he'll never use it!!

Anyway what I'm saying is that if Alastor were ever to get into a radioapple-style thing with Lucifer I'm pretty sure he could play the king of hell like a fiddle and destroy all of hell if he wanted to. And that's terrifying, and that's why he's scarier than Lucifer.

okay rant over!!!

#and that's kinda hot ngl #radioapple #sorry rant over #late(ish) night rambles #just my opinion!! obviously everyone has different ideas!#but putting thoughts down on paper helps sometimes #hazbin hotel #now back to your regularly scheduled fanfic programming

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smallpapers · 11 months

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commission for the lovely @childlikegoblinqueen for their fic Sweet Child O’ Mine!! Can you believe it has over 60 chapters!! That’s such a cool feat go read it rn!!💛💚

#the owl house #huntlow #hunter wittebane #willow park #toh fanart #toh willow #the golden guard #paper coms #paper coms art #childlikegoblinqueen #Toh fanfic art #myart #toh hunter

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paperch3rry · 9 days

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Hello! Could you do Yandere!Mister Demi Headcanons? :D

✮⋆˙ LOVE YOU SO </3 ୨୧

Yandere Mister Demi x Reader

A/N: so, since i think student x teacher relationships are hella wrong, you are a teacher in this, gender neutral for yall sillies, made Mister Demi in the way i see him since i dont know much about him, Edit: I GOT TRICKED!!! I JUST FOUND OUT THAT WIKI WAS LYING, HES NOT A LIBRARIAN!!! HES A FUCKING MUSIC TEACHER FUCK-

TW: Yandere topics, death topics, reader is so done, paranoia, overthinking, remember: this is not healthy, stay way from individuals who act like this and seek help if they act in such way towards you.

type: angst(?), romantic and headcanons.

୨୧ First things first, lets get into how you met eachother, you were another teacher in that godforsaken school, having to fight everyday in that violent place like your life depended on it (and it probably is).

୨୧ Although you would share some kindness here and there with some people in the school, especially the students since they have to study hard if they dont want to... well... die by the cold and brutal hands of the teachers, you felt pity for them, sincerely, you still feel sad about Abbie's brutal death, poor kid met a horrible demise just because of an F.

୨୧ You met Mister Demi in his library of course, he was really scared at first, because you were another teacher and he knows how the teachers there were cruel in that school, but... you were surprisingly nice! he even striked an pleasant conversation with you.

୨୧ And thats how you two started to get acquainted, day after day you would stop by the library to have a chat with your new friend who seemed like a (and only) decent person in such depraved place, nice! (bold of you to assume anyone could be normal in that place.)

୨୧ Demi would grow more and more enloved by you and wouldnt really acknowledge it at first, but after some time when his heart is hurting and thumping like crazy in his chest everytime you arent with him.

୨୧ Demi would start to have obsessive thoughts of you after some time when you two start hanging out even when you guys arent in the library, its like the more intimate you become, the more obsessive he becomes.

୨୧ Demi is obsessive, paranoid, dependent, harmless and anxious, he feels like hes going to die whenever you arent with him or when you have to leave him to do something important, he REALLY enjoys your company, sometimes he just wants to grab you by the hand and hold onto you until he thinks its enough.

୨୧ but he really tries to hide the fact that he likes that much, he doesnt wanna seem noisy or annoying to you, because it can make you avoid him and he would be devastated, Demi really overthinks of how you see him, he tries to be perfect to you so you wont leave him, please dont leave him!

୨୧ But Demi knows that wasnt correct and that wasnt the right thing to do if he wanted to stay with you, so he would just let you go, fighting with his frustration, he loves you very much and doesnt know how to deal with that.

୨୧ Demi often writes in a book everything he feels about you, so he would not take the risk of his losing his cool and doing something that will push you away from him and his grasp, so he would just deposit every little sick obsession he has in his book who probably by now would have 20 pages of his feelings about you. (minimum)

୨୧ Demi would be VERY touch starved, he often would find lots of excuses just to get you to end up touching him, even if its a minimal, the librarian even fakes crying so he could feel your hug for a prolongated time since he asks for that for "comfort". Basically: he isnt crying, hes just creating reasons.

୨୧ The librarian man would try to keep his red flags down so he doesnt risks on you catching on his troubling lovingly passion for you, that would probably push you away and he really doesnt want that

୨୧ But the red flags would start to lift up when Demi starts acting more and more erratic the more you two get intimate, like, he starts to get weirdly dissapointed whenever you have to leave and asks you lots of questions of where you are going and why even if its the room right next to the libraryor how he started to cling up to an extenct where hes almost climbing on ur back.

୨୧ If you found his book, he would be really scared, fuck scared, he'd be terrified, because he knows that everything he wrote in that book was not ethical, you would probably find his book in the library balcony where he forgot to hide it.

୨୧ if you do try to leave him, he would fucking breakdown, that polite and shy facade replaced by a lovesick and obsessive Demi, that was not the Demi you knew, the Demi that was clinging to your knee and begging to you not leave him was a totally different Demi you met.

୨୧ “I was being good!- i-i promise ill behave! please- please just dont leave me!"

#fundamental paper education x reader #fpe #mister demi #fpe yandere #yandere male #x reader #fpe x reader #fundamental paper education #fanfic #fpe fanfiction #୨୧ cherry works

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