#gone but if i’m fucking stuck on an airplane i will die

[bibleofficial]

i love having hong kongers & mainlanders in close contact like literally i’ve these 2 hongkongers in my group project for a class & then i live w 2 mainlanders so ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) i’m learning so much

#stream #like the genuine differences between even north & south china & further mainland vs taiwan & hong kong 😭😭😭 #like yen je ? TOTAL ONE CHINA STAN & honestly ? king #arthur is literally like ‘bro idk i literally don’t give a fuck abt anything outside of beijing’ it’s so funny like he HATES traveling but #routinely. flys back to chine like he’s flown 15+hrs so many times like he spent 5 years in canada even ? 😭😭😭 ALSKALSKALKSALKSLAKS #BUT HE HATES TRAVEL #ITS SO FUNNY TO ME #like he doesn’t mind the commute but i’m the total opposite i HATE being in a fucking plane or hotel room or whatever like i just need to be #gone but if i’m fucking stuck on an airplane i will die #BUT ALSO I AINT DO NO 15HRS ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT #LIKE IDK I THINK MAYBE 11 WAS THE LONGEST BUT IM SURE IT WASNT EVEN #MAYBE 10 BUT 😭😭😭 anyway then the hongkongers are totally like ‘we don’t know mandarin & we want to break from china’ 😭😭😭 #they’re so fun #the mainlanders: don’t smoke weed the hongkongers: do u have a number ? #ALSJAKSKAKJSAKJSLAJSLAKA GIRL AS SOON AS I HESRD HIS GUY JEPT FLAKING ON HIM I WAS LIEK LISTEN NOW … #I GOT U ONE #so fucking funny i love them #also i told my flat mates then when i see Li again i’m bringing his ass up like YALL ABT TO KNOW HIM TOO #it’s so funny to me like i know they don’t know eachother like i ask them all if they know eachother like not bc they met before but solely #BC I KNOW YALL ALL ON WECHAT it makes me laugh it’s like playing matchmaker but also Li literally told me he doesn’t know many chinese here #so i’m like well baby girl … i’ll have my 2 boys play w u xx #ALSKALSKALLSLAKSLAKSLA love him he’s so funny i met his flatmate & he’s ethiopian & a QAT FIEND ❤️😭 SCREAM we were bonding over withdrawl #symptoms upon getting to the uk ALSKALALALSLAKLSKALSLA SCREAMMMMM poor Li i was holding him hostage to me & this man’s’s tomfoolerys theyre #precious so his name is ra & he’s going back to pick up more from london or whatever like 😭😭 he even said he was going through so bad #withdrawls he just got up at 2am 1 day & got on a train to london & slept on his man’s floor to get the fix ALSLLAJALALLSKSLSJSLAJLAJLD #KINGGGGGGG GIRL I TURNED TO LI & WAS LIKE ‘& U JUST LET HIM ?’ 😭😭😭😭 i was DYINGGGG he’s so fucking FUNNY anyway he’s going to let me try qat #from his next pick up like mf u better not chew all that shit before u get back here 😭😭😭 #it was so funny he was like ‘how do U know abt KHAT’ 😭😭😭 #like literally my response from everyone but shoutout to my professor bc i truly don’t think she realizes how deep i’ve gotten into this now

[thran-duils]

Doll Me Up (P.1)

Title: Doll Me Up (Part One) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark. On good days, you and Tony were a power couple. You, a perfect trophy wife with your hands in local charities to promote a wholesome image. Tony, business man but sullied with organized crime. He indulged in his illegal gambling, extortion, and political corruption. And he indulged in his escort business. Hell, that is where he had found you. You were a brat, and he loved a challenge. Words: 2,322 Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, smut, daddy kink, dom/sub, manipulation, death, violence, possessive behavior

Introduction || Part Two ||  Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

There were three voicemails when you turned your phone back on in the airport terminal.

Voicemail, 12:22am

“Y/N, I swear to GOD if you don’t answer your fucking phone the second you land, I’m going to make sure you don’t walk right for a fucking week when I get you back in my hands!”

Voicemail, 12:57am

“I am tempted to leave you stranded without any fucking money! How the fuck would you like that? Having to call me to come bail you the fuck out? I’ll make you get on your goddamn knees and beg. Call. Me.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you snickered.

Tony would never though; you found it impossible. He could not stand the thought of you not having money to shield yourself from the world if he was not there. You needed to be inside, pampered.

You snorted before listening to the next message.

Voicemail, 1:27am

“When I find out where you’ve gone, you bet your ass I’m going to be right on the plane there and you’re not going to like it when I find you! Do you understand me! So, make this easier on yourself and call me back!”

You took the opportunity to text him back.

Y/N, 3:29am

Don’t waste your time or jet fuel. Just leave me alone for a bit. God.

You dialed your friend Xavier, it going to voicemail the first time. Annoyed, you called him again, taking note it was after 3:30am. On the fourth attempt, he answered.

“What the hell do you want, Y/N? If you’re drunk and woke me up—”

Brightly, you told him, “Come get me.”

There was a moment’s pause, before he asked perplexed, “What?”

“I’m at SeaTac.”

“The hell do you mean you’re at SeaTac?”

“I flew here,” you told him nonchalantly as you could. “On a whim. And I don’t want to take an Uber alone. I’ll give you gas money! Promise.”

“Where… what?” He was groggy still.

“I’ll stay at your place for a couple nights?”

He was quiet again for a few moments before asking, “You don’t wanna get a hotel room…?”

“Of course you want to do that.”

“Bitch, I live in a studio. Why would I not want to take advantage of some more space?”

“Point taken. But ugh, hurry!” You whined, leaning against the wall. “I’m in really tall heels and I don’t have a coat. I’m cold.”

“Are you outside?”

“No, in the aiport. The dress is just really short.”

Xavier snorted at this. “Of course it is. Where’s Tony?”

“At home. We got into a fight,” you told him shortly.

“So, you flew here…?”

“Yeah, I didn’t wanna go home and see his stupid face. So, I came here. Straight from the party really. Hold on, let me check hotels in the area.” You pulled your phone down to google and scroll through options. “Ugh, I don’t wanna be downtown though. But that’s where all the nice hotels are at… Oh, this place has a renaissance Brad Pitt photo on a pillow.”

“Please. Get that. Just on principal.”

“Okay but this other place has a better bathroom set up.”

“Is that really important?”

“Yes, I want a relaxing bath. And it has a great view of the sound. There’s two-bedroom suites that don’t require extended stays. But, love, I don’t want to sleep alone… and I trust you for that.”

Xavier chortled, “Scout’s honor. Your pussy does not interest me in the slightest. What’s the name then?”

“Thompson. Get here!”

“I’m moving, I’m moving,” Xavier told you and you heard shuffling in the background of the call.

You added before he could hang up, “And bring your phone charger. And some sweats and a shirt. I meant it when I said I left directly from the party. All I’ve got is my purse.”

“You are ridiculous,” Xavier laughed. “It’s going to take me at least a half hour. Don’t let your phone die!”

Tony was calling again, and you sighed annoyed, sending him to voicemail. By now he would know your phone as at least back on and know you sent him to voicemail yet again.

Y/N, 3:41am

My phone is getting low and I need it to contact a hotel so I’m not going to answer.

Your anger was beginning to subside, but you were not ready to give in just yet.

Dialing the hotel, you waited for the front desk to answer. “Yes, I would like to set up a two-bedroom suite if there are any available? There are? Perfect. Oh, right now, please. I’ve just landed at the airport. Yes, yes of course. My card number is….”

Tony would not even have to call the credit card company at this rate with this new charge showing up.

<><><>

Two years ago…

“Are you sure that’s what you want me to do, Y/N? I could really mark you up that way,” Tony purred.

You peered over your shoulder, giving him a pleading look. You had just asked him to hit you again, wanting him to get your ass good and red before he fucked you unbridled. The clincher was that he had a nine tails he was spanking you with. He had dipped into spanking the first time he had taken you and you would be lying if you said you did not like it. You had been interested in the powerful man and had seen him take girls from the service before. When he had shown up last time, you had made sure to be in his sights and he had taken the bite. Figuratively and literally. He had left some nice little marks along your shoulder and atop your breasts that had eventually faded. You wanted more and it seemed he did too.

“Yes, please,” you said coyly.

“If you keep sounding that cute, I am not going to be able to help myself.”

You stuck out your bottom lip and he gave a throat chuckle before swinging his arm back and landing another blow across your cheeks. You made a strangled noise, jolting forward with the hit. Tony’s fingers came to your ass, dipping between your thighs.

“You like me marking you up?” he asked, his fingers playing. You nodded again. “Bite marks and all?” Another nod and he had had enough foreplay.

Tony groaned salaciously, his fingers leaving your sex and coming to tear your dress down off your breasts. The bra was gone next, your breasts bouncing free. Your dress was stuck around your middle, leaving your bottom and top half exposed.

You whimpered, feeling empty.

“Aww, princess,” Tony mockingly cooed. “Do you want me to fix it?”

You breathed, “Yes, sir.”

His cock pressed against your entrance. “I have such a desire for you… to inhale every part of you.”

“I want you to, sir.”

Tony chuckled against your neck before nipping, causing you to whimper at the pinch. “I know, princess. And that’s what I crave. I’m just simply obsessed with you, kitten.”

<><><>

You woke up to tapping on your face.

Xavier chortled when you startled awake. “Hello, darling,” he crooned.

You slapped his hand away, “Jesus, you creep. Couldn’t you have just gotten out of bed quietly and ordered breakfast?”

“Oh, I did that,” Xavier told you and you scowled, grabbing the blanket to try to yank it over your head. “But I also ordered you some blueberry pancakes!”

At the mention of them, you stilled. Muttering angrily, you threw the blanket back and grabbed your phone, checking the time. It was only 9:30am. You had only been asleep for a few hours at best. When Xavier had picked you up, you had turned your phone back on airplane mode to prevent seeing whatever texts Tony was going to be sending and any calls. You switched it off and surprisingly saw there was only one text from him. He had tried to call a couple of times but he had not left any more voicemails. He was probably testing to see if your phone was back on or not.

Tony, 4:42am

I don’t know what you’re hoping to accomplish from this other than pissing me off.

You sighed as you got out of bed, padding to the bathroom, taking your phone with you.

Xavier called from the bed, “They said less than a half hour!”

“Noted,” you returned coming to the tub and turning it on. You placed your phone on the counter and began getting undressed.

Kicking your feet up, you relaxed back into the tub. It was so warm, and you settled back in further, a smile coming across your face. There was nothing a hot bath could not soothe. You had been bruised up on your ass too many times to not know that.

Your phone rang and you groaned, knowing who it was. You sunk beneath the water, holding your breath. You could not even have one damn bath…

Footsteps echoed into the bathroom and you opened your eyes seeing Xavier peering at your phone on the counter.

You were out of the water in a second, telling him before your ears had even cleared, “Xavier, don’t—”

He had already pressed answer and held the phone up to his ear much to your horror. You could only hear his side of the conversation.

“Hello? Who’s this? Oh, you must be Tony. A friend.”

“Xavier!” you hissed. “Hang the fuck up!”

“Hmm, no. I don’t think you can talk to her. She’s busy.” Xavier paused and then shrugged as if Tony could see him. “I don’t know. She handed me the phone and she left when she saw it was you calling.”

You mouthed, “Too much!”

Xavier ignored you. “I told you she left. She doesn’t want to talk to you. Are you deaf? I already told you that.”

You were leaning halfway out of the tub damn near at this point, your hands gripping the side of the tub. “Too. Much!” you hissed at him.

“Again, I told you. She left. Don’t know where. She was wearing something pretty skimpy though.”

You were crawling out of the bath by this point and Xavier took a few steps back, a playful smile on his face. He had no idea what he was doing. And it was your damn fault by not explaining anything about who Tony was to him before this. All he knew of Tony was that he was a billionaire and your husband. He did not know his mafia ties or the nature of your relationship with him.

“Hmm, apparently I’ve overstayed my welcome. Anyways, if you want to have this convo again, let me know!” Xavier said into the phone, speaking louder with every word practically. As if Tony was trying to yell over him and Xavier was ignoring him. “Bye now!”

A pet peeve of Tony’s was being spoken over. Another was having someone else play with his toy, which was no doubt the thought going through his mind right now because he had no idea who Xavier was. Great.

“Xavier!” you exploded, standing in front of him naked, water dripping onto the floor.

“Yes? And can you put a towel on?” he asked as he placed your phone down on the counter.

You exclaimed, “That was too much! Why didn’t you listen to me and hang up the phone?” You really were worried.

He was unperturbed by your outburst though, shrugging as you snatched a towel and wrapped it around yourself. “As you told me multiple times! And cause it was funny.”

“Do you know what he would do to you if he knew who you were? No one talks to him like that!” You added for good measure. “Especially when it comes to me.”

“Well, he hasn’t let you see me in over a year!” Xavier pouted. You exhaled sharply. It was true… you only traveled when Tony permitted it. You had not been back home in such a long time. “He deprived me of you. He deserved being left behind. Didn’t you say so?”

“That I did. But next time, let me answer,” you poked him roughly on the nose. To give some insight into your relationship, you told him, “Daddy likes hearing my voice, especially when he’s in the state he’s in. Do you understand me?”

“’Daddy’?” Xavier asked, looking put off.

“Yes, he’s quite good at keeping me in line.” Xavier cocked an eyebrow and then burst out laughing. You shrugged, “Most of the time. I’m usually well behaved for him. He just made me mad.”

“I’m getting some very… dom/sub vibes here.”

“Correct.”

“Hmm, that does shed some light on why you’re so mad about that call then.”

“Yeah, you fuck!” you told him, slapping his arm.

“Well, you’ll just get some spankings.”

“I hope that’s the only thing that happens, you dick,” you snapped, seriously.

“Maybe some orgasm denial for his little… babygirl? Princess?” Xavier grinned broadly when he saw your eyes widen at the name. You slapped his arm again, harder this time, and he laughed, pulling away from you. “Is that what he calls you?”

You huffed as you got back into the tub and admitted, “Maybe.” You leveled him with a glare and said, “I’m serious though. Don’t answer the phone again. He’s already mad at me.”

<><><>

Tony had cracked his phone protector with how hard he had slammed it down on the counter after that little prick – whoever he was – had hung up on him. A million, jealous thoughts were running through his mind. Y/N was off with some other man up in Seattle – he had seen the hotel pending charge this morning when he had woken up from his short sleeping stint. She was pregnant with his goddamn kid for fucks sake, and she had the audacity to sleep with someone else.

That was something he could not abide. This was too far.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21

#tony stark x reader #dark!tony stark #mob!tony stark #dark tony stark #mob boss tony stark #dark marvel #dark marvel fic #my shit

[shijiujun]

“you know you’re singing to your headphones out loud, right” au for moshang plz sqh singing modern songs that mbj doesn't know and being hella confused 🥺

Featuring karaoke-loving Shang Qinghua who gets a bit too drunk at a Cang Qiong mountain gathering, and he goes all out. 

Or when Mobei Jun wonders why Shang Qinghua is singing about another man called Liang Shan Bo.

---

Sometimes, he thinks about his old life before he ever had the misfortune of landing in a world of his own creation, with an annoying gaming AI system of sorts hounding his every move (in the beginning) or turning up at the most inopportune times just when he thinks it’s finally gone and left him alone (more recently). 

Shang Qinghua remembers not having many friends when he was still Shang Qinghua, when ‘向天打飞机 Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky’ was still merely his writing Weibo account moniker and when he had millions of people looking up to him for his crucial contributions in writing this amazing story about his son Luo Binghe and the way he overcame all odds to become a success with a harem of gorgeous women at his feet (damn you, Peerless Cucumber bro!).

Back in those days, he lived off cup noodles and instant coffee. If he didn’t have to leave the house, Shang Qinghua would simply curl up in front of his laptop, either writing for his novel or watching shows (clears his throat) - actual shows! Chinese period dramas were his favourite, where a skilled and intelligent consort in the harem would outwit all the other women to be with her one true love, the Emperor, who falls irrevocably in love with her.

And when he got bored, he switched from the laptop to his television to engage in his second most favourite hobby - Chinese karaoke. Going out to a karaoke bar would require some level of socializing, and also a few friends so he gets more bang out of his buck from what he pays for the room, but at home? 

With advanced technology and a tiny ass microphone in either shining gold or silver, Shang Qinghua’s home entertainment system was his very own personal karaoke room, His tiny mic even had that echo-y effect on.

Shang Qinghua has a thing for classic Chinese songs - ‘The New Butterfly Dream’, ‘Liang Shan Bo and Juliet’, The Moon Represents My Heart‘ - and contemporary karaoke must-haves, like Wang Fei. For an embarrassing few days, the Chinese version of Baby Shark was a veritable earworm as well.

After transmigrating into his own story set in ancient times, where he lives without technology, Shang Qinghua would be lying if he said he didn’t miss the Internet. Laptops would be incredibly handy, and so would switches for lights, definitely indoor plumbing for toilets, and induction stoves. Phones too, that would be nice, rather than having to ‘send word’ with letters. 

Of course, there is no karaoke bar or machine for him.

Not all is bad though. At least he transmigrated to Shang Qinghua in this world as a baby, so it’s not as if he was surviving on Internet and technology one day and left to do everything manually the next day since someone was always taking care of him. Peerless Cucumber bro, of course, wasn’t as lucky, but the man has definitely taken to this world (and his son!!) like a fish to water.

And as for himself, Shang Qinghua does not need to envy Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe either, because somehow, he has gotten the man of his dreams too, even if said man was a little cruel and rude to him in the beginning.

He has the love of his life (coughs coughs) and they’re stuck in this world for the rest of his life. What more is there to want? Not to mention how his cup of instant noodles betrayed him at the last moment, resulting in his death! It is slightly safer, ironically, to be in this world instead.

All is good except... well...

===

Shen Qingqiu marvels at the sight before him, torn between wanting to step in to stop Shang Qinghua, or watch this farce unfold. 

He sometimes forgets where he, or where Shang Qinghua, who has been in this world longer than he, came from. They don’t always talk about the past when they meet, and aside from the occasional meetups, Shen Yuan is a part of him that doesn’t surface, not when he is with Luo Binghe. 

Shang Qinghua, on the other hand, grew up here, and aside from referring to Shen Qingqiu by his Weibo account name, he seems otherwise well-adjusted, no hint of modern online writer Shang Qinghua in sight. It doesn’t feel as if he misses their original world either.

This evening, however, memories of modern times slap him in the face, quite literally.

“Shizun!” Luo Binghe calls, frantic, tugging him back into his embrace out of Shang Qinghua’s way. Once Shen Qingqiu is safe in his arms, his eyes narrow at the bumbling, drunk idiot causing a scene in the dinner hall, “Shang Qinghua...”

Shang Qinghua stops where he is, and then before any one can stop him, he picks up a pair of chopsticks, brings it to his mouth, and begins bellowing his way through-

-Jay Chou’s Hair Like Snow.

“Shizun, are you alright?” Luo Binghe fusses, his hands coming up to cup Shen Qingqiu’s face when his Shizun doesn’t so much as respond to him. “Were you hurt? Did he hurt you? How’re you feeling? We’ll go back home now-”

“What is he singing?” Qi Qingqi frowns in disgust.

They all wince when Shang Qinghua attempts to hit a high note, but fails miserably.

Fuck me, Shen Qingqiu thinks, his eyes impossibly wide, who knew Airplane bro was such a karaoke fanatic?

“... maybe he is possessed by a malevolent spirit? Or perhaps this is an unidentified curse?” asks Ming Fan. 

“Or is this some new form of cultivation?” asks Ning Yingying, curious.

Yue Qingyuan, seated at the front of the dining hall, cannot help but be concerned for him as well. “Shall we call Mu-shidi to take a look at him-”

They’ve gathered for their annual meeting - a condition that Yue Qingyuan has set in place a few years ago after Luo Binghe ‘stole’ (married!) him away from Cang Qiong Peak - and although Shang Qinghua said he didn’t mind that Mobei Jun was unable to accompany him today, he spent most of the dinner drinking alcohol while in a melancholic state instead.

Who knew that Shang Qinghua was a singing drunk?!

Hence their current predicament.

At the Sect Master’s words, Shang Qinghua suddenly turns around and looks at Shen Qingqiu. HIccuping twice, he then beams, “Cucumber-”

Shen Qingqiu has never moved that fast in his life. Within a fraction of a second, he has his hand pressed over Shang Qinghua’s mouth, holding onto him from the back.

“Cucumber?” everyone choruses in confusion.

“I believe your Shang-shishu has had a little too much to drink,” Shen Qingqiu clears his throat, nodding at everyone else. “We should... send him back to Mobei. Isn’t that right, Binghe?”

His disciple, his husband, still has on an affronted, murderous look for how Shang Qinghua almost brained Shen Qingqiu with his flailing arms in his drunken fit. The moment Shen Qingqiu asks, however, his expression morphs into something so soft and full of love that everyone who sees it chokes.

“Of course,” Luo Binghe smiles, devotion apparent in his eyes. “Anything Shizun wants.”

===

The words that are tumbling out of Shang Qinghua’s mouth are entirely incomprehensible, and so are the tunes he’s humming into his ear.

Mobei Jun thought he had gotten used to Shang Qinghua’s eccentric mannerisms, and also thought he knew everything about his husband, so many years later. Shang Qinghua is mumbling Chinese alright, but none of the characters put together make any sense.

Who is Liang Shan Bo? And who the hell is Juliet?!

His mood taking a turn for the worse, Mobei Jun hoists Shang Qinghua up further on his back.

After getting so drunk, the idiot had the gall to demand for a piggy-back from the throne room to their bedroom. Mobei Jun has never once suffered such indignity in his years of living. A bridal carry? Of course, anytime. A piggy-back? As if he was some beast to be tamed? 

Well this definitely has to be a first.

While he was stewing in his thoughts, Shang Qinghua switches from that song to another one, and a stream of ‘du du du lu du lu’ emerges from his lips... AND something about... a sha yu? What the hell is that?!

Shang Qinghua lazily lifts his right hand as they approach their room, balls it into a fist and puts it to his mouth, as if he’s holding something, and whatever monstrosity Shang Qinghua is singing, his voice gets even louder.

Mobei Jun tosses Shang Qinghua off his back unceremoniously and onto the soft bed. Interrupted, Shang Qinghua blinks, his vision blurry, and is about to catch his breath and start singing again when his husband climbs in after him. Trapping Shang Qinghua with his entire weight, Mobei Jun seals his lips with a kiss.

“... My king...” Shang Qinghua murmurs in a daze, when Mobei Jun pulls back a few minutes later, his breaths coming out as short, harsh pants. “My king...”

“That’s right,” he says with a glower. “I’m your Da Wang, your husband.”

Mobei Jun doesn’t know who Liang Shan Bo is, but he’s going to make sure no other man’s name ever leaves Shang Qinghua’s lips again when they’re together.

And when his husband finally sobers up, he’s going to have a lot to answer for.

---

Songs Mentioned (YouTube Links in Comments):

The New Butterfly Dream 新鸳鸯蝴蝶梦 － A Chinese classic, sung by Huang An but done beautifully by legendary god of singing Fei Yu Qing and singing partner for the song A Yun Ga

Liang Shan Bo and Juliet 梁山伯与朱丽叶 － A Taiwanese contemporary classic of sorts by Genie Zhuo, most Chinese millennials would definitely have sang this at a karaoke once in their lives - Song is inspired by Liang Shan Bo and Zhu Ying Tai, the Chinese version of Romeo and Juliet to some extent - They both die in the end and become butterflies, so they’re also called the Butterfly Lovers.

The Moon Represents My Heart 月亮代表我的心 － ANOTHER CLASSIC CLASSIC!!!

Baby Shark (Chi. Ver) － ˆThe baby shark hype did move to China, and it’s pretty hilarious LMAO and in Chinese, shark is 鲨鱼 (sha yu) but I’m assuming that in this world, there isn’t a shark kind of animal of sorts? So Mobei Jun and everyone else except SQQ wouldn’t know what a shark is or looks like?!

Hair Like Snow 发如雪 － By Jay Chou, another classic that all Chinese millennials would have sang in a karaoke bar 

Wang Fei 王妃 － Jam Hsiao’s version is known best, and it’s pretty epic, not that anyone can reach any of the high notes in the chorus, but does that stop us from trying?!! Hell no!!!

---

Notes: My first Moshang?!! That didn’t really have a lot of Moshang time?! But thanks anon, hope this sort of works?!

#svsss #scumbag villain #穿书自救指南 #渣反派自救系统 #scumbag system #moshang #bingqiu #mobei jun #shang qinghua #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #everyone else is somewhere there except my bb lqg #and anw karaoke sqh!!!!

[terrorandtales]

Where the fuck are you supposed to start with something like this? My therapist has encouraged me to try this exercise to help with my night terrors. Which I trust her. Dr. M is one smart cookie. I’m just scared shitless to have all of my night terrors come to life while I’m awake. The whole point of this is to redirect the story. Control the narrative and directly know that they aren’t in fact real. They may share some oddly sick similarities, but hey Doc knows best so let’s dive in.

Arctic Tundra

So I’m trying to piece this together eloquently. It’s been a few days since I had this night terror. Bear with me please. Alright like most dreams/nightmares how are we supposed to know where the beginning, middle, and end are. Could it be that the end is the middle? The middle is nomans land, and the beginning nonexistent? Does time even exist in this pandora’s box, this colorful brain of mine? Half the time I don’t even know if it’s me in the dream as the lead character. Most of the time I am, but sometimes I feel like I’m a ghost floating through these nightmares scene to scene. Still, living the God awful fucked up shit, but seeing my physical self below my floating self just asking the other me, “what in the actual hell is happening? Can I wake up now? Let’s set the scene…

My other me (I guess my sleeping me) is seeing my physical me in a Biergarten walking around aimlessly. Fretting about some assholes that look like storm troopers rounding up the masses. It almost feels like we’re all the Anne Franks of the world in this place. My brother, sister, and Jean Paul (my lover) are in the dream. So these motherfuckers find our hiding spot which honestly isn’t hard to find because it’s literally the Biergatedn I’ve been to before in real life on a drunken Seattle night. Anyways, we all start panicking and make a run for it through these hidden secret hatches on the floors. Tear gas is dispersing and those fuckers are closing in. I lose sight of my brother, sister, and Jean Paul. I think they made it out before me. So I’m running and trying to get through this secret hatch with all of these panicked people. The hatch turns into a ceiling shaft. Almost like the one in the movie Posidean where they were all trying to escape a sinking cruise ship that was overturned by a tsunami wave. Anyways so I’m panicking because I know those God-awful Sith bloodsuckers are coming for us. The person in front of me is crawling and turning the corner then he starts screaming because he gets blasted in the face with this green and orange acid that starts burning his flesh off immediately. Kind of reminds me of the contagion movie where those people started bleeding from their eyeballs. Sick stuff man. Don’t ask me how it smells because I have no idea. I haven’t had the terrible pleasure of smelling burnt skin in my waking life. So his skin starts peeling off, his eyes are burning out of their sockets. Meanwhile, I’m in shock and trying to crawl back to get away from him and the acid. I don’t know if there’s more coming!! So I’m like what the hell!! When I turn around on all fours which I think is much faster than crab-walking backward up a metal shaft by the way the scene changes again. Now I’m on an airplane. The seats are gone. Everything is stripped away. I’m in what looks like a cargo plane, but the emergency windows look like the ones on a Boeing 737-800 aircraft. There’s padding along the sides of the aircraft and I’m not alone. There’s a little boy stuck inside with me and we’re trying to get out before the plane sinks in the arctic ocean. I’m scrabbling around to try to get the windows open. The first two exits I try are jammed because I guess the plane hit an ice burg or something and it’s dented in. We’re peering out the smaller windows and we can see people lined up in huge parkas with gear. They made it off the plane, but somehow we’re the only two left. The snow is coming down hard and whistling so loudly. So they can’t hear us screaming for help. You can barely make out the faces of the people because of the blizzard. Plus they have their heads down to protect their faces. I look at the kid and say, “don’t worry we’re going to get out of here. We’ll be okay.” I can feel the bile rising in my throat and the butterflies in my stomach. I feel guilty because I honestly don’t think we’ll make it out alive, but I can’t lie to this kid. So the third emergency exit that I try and put all my strength into opens miraculously! I yell to the crying kid, “come on let’s go!” He gets up and runs to me. I throw his gear out first and then push him out of the plane. Meanwhile, the plane starts jerking violently. So I know I’m running out of time. I throw my pack out of the exit. When I try to get out the exit seems to become smaller. All of a sudden I can’t fit. I start panicking. Screaming for help, but they can’t hear me. I’m crying and try to use my arms to push along the ice-cold plane to push myself out. My tears are freezing to my face. My lips are burning because of the cold. My lungs are on fire, but I’m still fighting. I can see the plane approaching the water. “I’m going to die,” says my sleeping self to my physical self. Then before the nose of the aircraft hits the water I wake up shaking and gasping for air. (End Scene)

Okay, so now here’s the part where I take control of the narrative and direct it elsewhere. So which part do I change? Nomans land, end, the nonexistent beginning? Just seems like a lot of work, but we’ve come this far. So let’s pick up from this particular part of the ending scene “I’m going to die.” Ready? “And scene!” “Action”

As I close my eyes preparing for my doom strong hands grab my forearms and violently pull me out of the aircraft seconds before the tip of the aircraft hit the water and the ice underneath gives. I can’t see the person’s face at all because my eyes are closed shut with fear and ice streaked tears. All I can hear is the loud crashing sounds of the ice breaking and the aircraft sinking into the ocean. The blizzard is swirling around us like we’re in the eye of a hurricane. My body feels like ice and I’m so scared I refuse to open my eyes. I just let myself be carried by these strong arms. I feel the wind swirling around us still. I can hear the air and feel the wind pick up. All of a sudden the terrible cold starts to fade. I start to feel warmth coarse through my body. I feel my cheeks start to warm. The wind starts to die down, and those strong arms...Wait Cut! Let’s talk about that for a min. Not a dream min, but a real-life minute or two. The arms holding me are just arms. I don’t imagine anyone. I don’t even imagine the body of a man or woman. If anything it’s more the comfort of them and the bravery of them. They’re magical; invisible strength and comfort you’d feel from a father figure. Caring arms, strong arms, non-judgmental arms. What I’d imagine Hagrid’s arms to feel like as far as size is concerned. I’m remembering that particular scene when he’s carrying Harry’s body back to Hogwarts, minus the death because these mystical God fearing arms saved my life. Anyways let’s get back to the scene. Ready? Take 2! Or is it 3? Anyways, Action! The wind starts to die down, and those strong arms holding me lie me down on what feels like the softest fur, almost like what I’d imagine the Lorax’s fur would feel like. Finally, when I start to feel this immense calmness overcome me and flood through my body I decide to slowly open my eyes. I’m in a white vast 2-dimensional allusion. I’m on a soft mound of grass resting underneath a Pink and orange Truffula tree that smells like papayas and lemons. My skin is glowing like I’m Joy, from the “Inside Out” movie. Except I’m still me. My skin is just the same, just bright and I feel warmth, love, and wonder coursing through my body and mind. When I look up into the white nothingness the scene changes again. Now I’m looking at a beautiful night sky lit up by green, white, purple auroras. Shaped as beautiful people dancing to the music I can’t hear. I’m sitting up against the Truffula tree and peace overcomes me; a faint smile comes across my lips and I fall into a deep slumber. (End of scene)

Okay, Dr. M!! I see what you’re saying. This was a very enlightening experience. I can feel that peace and comfort right now. I feel safe and adventurous. Off to the next one I suppose.

Goodness, I’m writing these back to back. So I’m going to be on a roller coaster of emotions. Extreme fear, anxiety, wonder, enlightenment, and finally peace. It’ll just keep repeating. Rinse, Freak Out, Repeat. No matter, I’ve been putting this off long enough. I have 4 more stories to share. They’re all blending together so I better hop to it.

#new blog #short story #my story #storytelling #story #original story #about me #life #night terrors #nightmare #bad dream #flash fiction #fiction #truffula tree #wonder #auora #blackgirlbloggers #blackgirlmagic #black girl

[mingishoe]

Thank you for tagging me lovely🥺 @ncitythoughts hopefully I’m at least a little bit interesting 😳

Relationships: Not really, I’ve been in a handful of relationships but none of them were too serious,,, or at least on my end. I think the longest “relationship” I use that word in quotes because we never dated because I had told him I wasn’t looking for a relationship but he said he’d wait for me but he had got too involved even when he knew I wasn’t looking for everything (I even told him lots of times) and I was panicking a lot because he would tell me that he loves me and I wasn’t able to say it back because I didn’t want to lead him on or anything but it lasted for a whole year before he finally took what I was saying into consideration and decided to “break it off” even though there wasn’t anything to “break off” but yeah and then there’s my one boyfriend who was a koreaboo but we dont talk about that😳 unless anyone wants a story time,,, I’ve talked about it before but it was forever ago

Breakups: Again not anything I really took to heart or was too upset over

Kids: No,,, I don’t really like babies so maybe if we could skip that part and fast forward straight until maybe 2 years old?? But yeah dunno if I want any kids from myself, I think I’d rather adopt kids to give them a better home.

Siblings: Nope, only child here👉👈

Pets: Yes! I have 3 dogs :) my oldest dog is a mutt and we’re not sure what he is because we picked him up off the street when I was like 6? My other dog is a pure chihuahua and she got into our yard and just,,, wouldn’t leave so we didn’t really have a choice but to keep her akhdks my other dog is like a little over 2 years old and I’ve had her since she was born🥺 one of my uncles dogs had two separate litters of 10 puppies and I took care of them all because he said they weren’t his, only the mama dog so he was ready to just leave them all to die. We had them all from such a small age, only a few months because the mama dog refused to feed them so we had to do it by hand and yeah it was horrible but we were able to get the rest of the puppies to good homes and I was allowed to keep one :)

Surgeries: Only one. I had to get a B.B. bullet out of my face. It could’ve been done under a general anaesthetic and wouldn’t have to be put to sleep BUT it was too close to my eye and I was too scared I’d move and the doctor would cut my eye.

Tattoos: No :( but I want lots in the future

Countries I’ve been to: I’ve never been out the country but I’ve almost went to Japan but the corona virus happened and :\ but me and my mom might go to Korea and I might go to Europe with one of my moms friends for her retirement since no one else wanted to go with her :(

Been in an airplane: Yes! Airplanes are my favourite! I’m that annoying bitch that always fights for the window seat👉👈 I’ve gone all over the US though and there aren’t many states I haven’t been to, mostly like the northern states because I feel like there aren’t many places to go to,,, minus Montana because the nature there is really pretty.

Been in an ambulance: I’ve been in ambulance but not for any emergency reason

I sing karaoke: I’ve never been to a karaoke place but if singing in the car counts then...

Ice skate: No but I’ve always wanted to🥺 even if it was just to the mall and skate a lil bit. I can rollerskate and rollerblade though.

Been on a cruise: No but I would’ve if I didn’t choose the BTS Speak Yourself concert last year over it👉👈

Driven a motorcycle: I don’t even have a regular license😳

Ridden a horse: No but only because I’m SUPER allergic to them and can’t even be too close to them.

Stayed in a hospital: Yes but I wasn’t the patient

Favourite fruit or berry: Pineapple,, even though it burns my mouth if I eat too much

Favourite colour: Turquoise and Black

Last text: “ITS FUNNY AKFBAKBDJS” I sent my friend a tiktok and she didn’t find it very amusing😒

Coffee or Tea: Tea!

Favourite pie: I don’t like pie, and I can’t eat meringue pie because I’m allergic to it so👉👈

Favourite pizza: I think just regular pepperoni maybe with pineapples sometimes,, and stuffed crust bc that slaps. 

Cat or dog: I really like both🥺 I wish I had a cat but I’m very allergic to them.

Favourite time of the year: Autumn🥺🥺 around Halloween/Thanksgiving

Met a star: Not one that I knew,, one time we were at the airport at my mom was like lOoK iTs *i forgot who it was* and I was like oOOhH... wHo iS tHaT?? And she wasn’t amused but yeah I had no idea who it was

Flown a helicopter: No? But honestly I’d be too scared to even get in one

Been on TV: Yeah but it wasn’t very exciting, it was just something for school.

Broken my leg: No but I broke my toe akdhjs and it was horrible bc I broke my joint specifically and I had my foot fucked up for like 6 months.

Seen a ghost: Yes, both mine and my aunts house is haunted so I’ve definitely seen some stuff. At her house sometimes you be laying down and you feel something/someone either sit or lay down next to you and at first it was scary but after it happened a few times I was like PlEaSe gO lAy dOwN sOmEwHerE eLsE tHiS iSnT yOuR bEd.

Been sick in a taxi: Not in a taxi, in my aunts car but I stuck my head out the window in time

Anyway maybe I’m a little bit interesting?? Hopefully it wasn’t too boring👉👈 I dunno who to tag so I’ll just tag @yunhoshoe (sorry I’m annoying and tag you in everything shkdhsj)

#tag games

[mental-metal-poet]

Stay Alive For Me

Summary: During the fight between the two teams in Civil War, the reader obtains a fatal wound which may lead to some shocking revelations

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Word Count: 2006

Genre: Angst

Warning(s): Mentions of fatal body wound, fear of blood, mentions of blood, a bit gory, possible cliffhangers

~~

The fight in the airplane hangar had been going as well as anybody could expect it to be. The group was now thoroughly divided and any chance of trying to compromise on the situation at hand had gone out the window the moment the two sides started delivering blows towards each other.

You had stood firmly by Tony’s side when you had all arrived at the hangar and continued to stay by his side as everyone fought one another. You glanced over at your team, or rather what was left of it, and nodded when meeting any of their eyes. You all knew that no matter what the outcome of today was, there would be no going back to how things were before the Accords.

You watched Tony’s back and helped protect your team when needed. Your attempts to try to reason with the other team was ignored or met with harsher blows and you couldn't help the pit of despair that entered you. No matter the situation these people were your friends, your family. The last thing you wanted to do was fight the people you considered family.

Anyone who saw you could see you weren't giving it your all. You were a trained assassin, and a good one at that, but everyone could see that you couldn't bring yourself to induce any real damage to anyone.

You were currently fighting with Clint, seeing as everyone had chosen to follow after Steve and his friend. You pulled your punches and stayed as far from him as possible. You hesitated every time you met his eyes, but in the end if he wasn't stopping neither would you.

You dodged arrow after arrow, delivering punches whenever Clint was left defenseless, gaining the upper hand in the fight. You were able to kick his bow out of his hands, leaving him exposed and vulnerable. As you readied yourself to deliver a few more blows, your hand was stopped in mid air, a red power source encasing your wrist. You made eye contact with Clint, a look of surprise crossing both your eyes, right before you were suddenly thrown into one of the hanger’s trucks.

After you crashed into the truck, you were thrown face down due to the momentum, your nose crashing with the pavement below you. The wind was knocked out of you and you stayed down to recollect yourself. Looking up you saw Clint and Wanda run in the opposite direction. You cursed to yourself silently and blinked back the tears gathering at your eyes. You carefully stood up, ignoring the searing pain in your back and began to jog in the same direction.

As you ran you looked overhead to see that Vision had finally caught up and was ready to join the fight. You locked eyes and Vision flew closer to you, offering his arm towards you. You speed up and when you caught his arm, he flew higher into the air, gaining some speed when he saw Captain's team.

You held onto his arm and before you got to Steve and the rest, you looked over at Vision.

You couldn't help but ask, "It's not going to end well, is it?"

Vision glanced at you and shook his head.

"I'm terribly sorry, (Y/N). I don't assume things will go back to how they were. I know how you feel about the team."

You looked away and prepared to jump when Vision began to descend, not bothering to answer him.

You landed right in front of Captain's team as Vision created a line with his laser beam, readying yourself for anything that might be sent your way.

"Captain Rogers!" Visions voice rang out in the surrounding area, "I know you believe that what you're doing is right, but for the collective good, you must surrender now."

You looked over at Steve and lowered your arms. "Steve, just, please listen." You pleaded. Your voice was small and broken. You were tired and the thought of having to fight your friends had you standing down from the fight, if only for a moment.

Everyone looked at you and their guards lowered slightly. Steve shook his head. "I'm sorry (Y/N), but I can't do that. Just like you've got people depending on you, I've got mine. I'll be damned if I don't try."

“But I thought we were your people.”

Your conversation ended there as everyone else began to arrive, the two teams meeting face to face once again.

No one dared to move, chests puffing up and out in exhaustion, eyes narrowed as each one of you scanned the other. Friends turned to foes in a heartbeat and all you had wanted to do that day was lay around and watch tv.

Falcon- Sam- was the first to speak up, "What do we do Cap?"

"We fight."

As Captain's team began to advance so did you guys. When they walked faster, so did you guys, when they began to run you tried to run faster. No one wanted to be left behind.

~~

Cap and his friend were nowhere to be seen. They had sneaked off in the middle of the fight and had left. Now you were left trying to beat the big guy in order to end this ordeal.

It didn’t help that you couldn’t fly. You’re stuck on the ground, running from side to side trying to avoid this man's feet. He was knocking over trucks and busses, leaving destruction in his wake. Everything was flipped upside down, exposed pipes and machinery everywhere.

“Hey guys. You ever see that really old movie? Empire Strikes Back?”

You figured that the voice belonged to the kid that Tony dragged along and you rolled your eyes. The kid talked a lot and while you admired his enthusiasm, now was not the time.

It wasn’t until you thought about the movie in question did you realize what the kid meant and you laughed.

“I get the kid. He wants us to knock the big guy over, get his legs and we might be able to get the job done.” You yell out to the team over the coms.

The rest caught on and you watched in awe as the kid slung around the big guys leg, trapping him in place as Tony and Rhodes flew up to punch him square in the jaw, making him lose his balance and fall over.

What you didn’t realize was that you were too close and by the time you found out it was too late.

You couldn’t back away from the falling man fast enough and when he crashed on the floor, the force of it sent you flying backwards into a broken plane. Part of its wings was exposed and before anyone could react, your body had made contact with it, a pipe running clean through your lower abdomen.

You screeched in pain and screwed your eyes shut, willing the pain to go away, but it didn’t. Tears sprung to your eyes and you couldn’t breathe. You began to shake. Your hand made contact with the pipe and the sensation of something warm and sticky on the pipe could only mean the worst. You find out that you are slightly suspended in the air and couldn’t find purchase on the floor below.

“Guys please help me!” You cried out, the pain almost unbearable. You didn’t want to open your eyes, you couldn’t. You sobbed, the pain, fear, and adrenaline coming out of you in waves that wouldn’t let you breathe.

You could hear the remainder of the fight die out as your team surveyed the wreckage you were caught in.

You could hear light footsteps and before you could ask who it was they spoke. “Mr. Stark, please help! She- she’s-“

“Kid back up your done.”

“But Mr. Stark-“

“Rhody, get the kid please.”

You could hear the skirmish going about and you finally opened your eyes. You willed yourself to look down and you nearly threw up at the scene.

The pipe was sticking out of you, coated in blood, your blood, and grime. You started to hyperventilate, the sight of your own blood enough to send you in a freak out frenzy. You weren’t going to make it out of this, you just knew it. You’d die here at the hanger, your insides torn apart and fucked up just as the team was. You’d close your eyes and never wake up-

“(Y/N)! Come on focus.”

You hadn’t even realized that Tony was in front of you, calling out to you. He’d been trying to get you to talk to him but he could see that your eyes were beginning to gloss over, signs of life slowly evading you.

“Friday read vitals.”

“Her heartbeat is detected but it is very faint, emergency medical is on its way.”

At that, you couldn’t take it anymore. You clutched onto the pipe, hoping that you wouldn’t die. Hoping that you weren’t meeting your end like this.

“I’m gonna die. Tony I’m gonna die. I can’t- I can’t breathe, Tony please help me. There’s so much blood, I can feel it. I’m gonna bleed out. I can’t move, I can’t feel anything, god I’m so scared Tony please-“

Your rambling was cut off by metal hands seering into your burning skin, the contrast a welcome feeling that brought you little bits of comfort. Tony tried shushing you down but your sobs remained, your body shuddering violently due to your physical and mental pain. He asked Friday for an update but she’d come up blank.

The rest of the group watched out in horror as your screams and cries were the only thing filling he air.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” Tony called out to you softly. You’re eyes were shut tight and you were beginning to cough up blood. He needed to keep you talking.

“Remember when I said we wouldn’t watch that dumb boat movie cause it wasn’t interesting. I lied. I didn’t want to watch because I knew I would end up crying about the ending. But, if you stay with me, we’ll watch it and every other movie you want, ok?” You nodded and smiled a little, but faded when all you could smell and taste was blood. .

Tony watched as your face started to lose all color, the grimace on your face started to fade and your head lolled from side to side. You were slipping away, slipping through his fingers and out of his life. It was like losing his mom all over again but this time he had to watch.

“(Y/N) please stay with me. You can’t leave me yet. We- we’re supposed to talk about us. We’re supposed to be together. You said we’d be together. Don’t leave.” Tony dropped his head on yours, your blood thoroughly coating his fingers. You’d become quiet, your breathing evening out. The team knew this might be the end and they all watched as Tony held onto your limp figure and planted a small and delicate kiss on your forehead. “Please wake up.. I need you.”

The sounds of the ambulance coming closer gave him and the team hope, but the pool of blood at the end of the pipe stated otherwise. This time, you might actually be gone.

#marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #tony #tony stark #tony x reader #avengers #civil war #captain america #fan fic #reader insert #tw//blood mention #tw// cursing #tw//injury #writer

[eddiekaspbrxks]

@eddieklapbak​: Hi :) i love your fics and I’ve only read a couple of them ( i need to read more ) but i was wondering if you’d be interested in writing a reddie fic where eddie gets a really bad flu and hes pissed about it because hes eddie but richie comes in hot taking really good care of him and shit ??? If that’s too fluffy or boring dont worry about it

(i redirected this to my sideblog for organisation’s sake, I hope that’s okay)

Word Count: 1281

AO3 link in notes

Eddie Kaspbrak supposes that one would expect, were someone to go on a week-long skiing trip with his six best friends, and were they to come down with a cold sent directly from hell—an analogy Eddie hadn’t ever expected to use, but which after ten hours lying in bed with a headache and a hacking cough seemed rather fitting—for their boyfriend to take care of them. One wouldn’t have expected, though, that Eddie would come down with a cold (him, of all the fucking people—Bev shared cigarettes with anyone she met, and Richie, god knows, probably hadn’t washed his hands in months), or that, when it happened, the boyfriend in question would be Richie Tozier. Richie and medication wasn’t a combination he’d exactly fantasized about, and he wasn’t sure that it was going to work out without at least a heart attack and maybe a very, very small house fire.

Or a fucking huge one, who knows. There’s no overestimating Richie.

“So,” Richie cries in a British accent, walking into the room with Eddie’s toiletry bag nestled in his arms, “come on then, talk me through this.” He unzips the bag—it’s “almost as big as your suitcase,” Stan had said, (which is ridiculous, it’s a solid quarter at most, and bright red, just in case Eddie’s in a hurry and needs to see it from a mile away (or in case Richie needs to find it, because holy shit that kid is blind, but he doesn’t seem to be showing any appreciation for Eddie’s color-picking skills at the moment), and dumps the contents onto the bed.

“Dude, careful with that—if you break my aspirator, I swear to god—” Eddie cries, leaping up a little and then grimacing when his head throbs.

“Hate to break it to you, Eddie Spaghetti, but you’ve got bigger issues right now than your made-up asthma.”

“Shut up, your fucking nasal voice is making my head hurt,” Eddie moans, covering his face with his hands.

“I’m serious, Eds,” Richie says, face mock solemn. “Your worst fears have come true. This is what you’ve been protecting yourself from your whole life, and alas, your brave efforts have gone to waste. Edward,” he places a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, “I hate to be the one to tell you this, but I’m not sure you’re going to make it out of this alive.”

“It’s a cold, man.”

“I know!” Richie cries, like a proud parent. “The first cold of your life! You’re finally growing up.” Eddie kicks him halfheartedly, to which Richie pleads in his Southern Belle voice “Please forgive me, Eddie, light of my life, oh please, I’ll die if you’re mad at me, just die!” He collapses  in a fit of giggles.

Eddie stares at him, dumbfounded. “You know I broke my arm when I was thirteen, right? You were there?”

“Oh, was that when the demon clown attacked us?” Richie’s eyebrows knit together, and Eddie resists both the urge to roll his eyes and the urge to grin like an idiot. “Huh, I must have forgotten.”

Eddie laughs a little. “Okay, my medication. Let’s see if you know what to do.”

“Oh, I don’t think I could go two years living with you without all of that rubbing off on me,” Richie says sweetly.

“I’m nothing if not influential.”

“No, I was thinking more like a pubic rash. I mean, we’ve done plenty of rubbing—”

“Holy fucking shit, beep beep, Trashmouth.”

“Alright, I’m just saying—”

“I wasn’t kidding when I said your voice was giving me a headache, and I’m much too poor and sickly to get a pill myself, so come on, pass them over.”

Richie shuffles through the pile clumsily, making Eddie cringe. “A ha!” he cries, pulling out a little bottle. Eddie notes the color of the cap, the shape of the letters familiar in his head. Richie picks up the glass of water he’d brought with the toiletry bag and holds it out to Eddie along with the pill. “Come on, eat up. As much as I’d love to do the whole here comes the airplane spiel, you seem to think you still have a dignity to be hurt, and I’d never deprive you of that fantasy—”

“That’s aspirin, you dumbass,” Eddie says, putting a hand in front of his mouth to stop Richie doing just that. “You’re not supposed to take it with a cold.”

“But it’s aspirin. It’s for headaches, that’s how aspirin works. You take it, your headache goes away. Right?”

“Yeah, but it’s not good for colds. Something to do with, like, your sinuses, or something. Give me the panadol, that’ll help.”

“Why are we here? To suffer? When did they make medicine complicated?”

“Why isn’t Ben in here? Ben would shut up when I tell him to.”

“Aw, you would never tell me to shut up, Eddie baby.”

“Shut up. Just, shut up. There.”

Richie pouts. “For that, I’m doing the airplane schtick.”

“Oh, my god,” Eddie groans.

“Open up!” Richie sings, pinching the pill between his thumb and index finger. “Come on, open the airport, here we come! Vrrrrrrrrrrr…”

“I will not, give me that—”

“ Vrrrr... c’mon,, or the little passengers won’t be able to get off in your little mouth!”

“Richie, what the fuck, only you could make this game disgusting.”

“Aw, you love it, Eds,” Richie says, and he pounces on Eddie, tickling his sides. Eddie bursts out laughing, kicking at him, and suddenly they’re kids again, wrestling in a hammock, taking any excuse to touch each other.

Eddie coughs, and the moment stops, his head throbbing from the movement. “Fuck,” he breathes, coughing again, voice raspy. Richie’s up in a second, grabbing the glass of water and placing it in Eddie’s hands.

“Here. Breathe slow, hyperventilating will make it worse, I think.”

“I know how a fucking cold works, Rich—” he says, but another cough rises up.

Richie holds his hand until the coughing fit passes, and then Eddie lies back.

“God, I hate this,” Eddie mumbles, careful not to raise his voice for fear that another coughing fit starts. “I can’t believe I’m stuck in here.”

“Hey, it’ll be great,” Richie says softly, laying next to Eddie and laying his head on his shoulder. “Who wants to be out there skiing when you could be lying bedridden and, fuck, and, uh, bedraggled, with me?”

“I think you think I like you more than I actually do.”

“Aw, I know you love me,” Richie says, and Eddie doesn’t have to look to tell that he’s grinning.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that, man.”

“Oh, I will,” Richie says, and leans over, pressing his lips to Eddie’s.

“I’m sick, dimwit. Deathly.”

“You know I’d risk death for you, Eddie Spaghetti.” Eddie rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning, too, and he leans in and kisses Richie again.

“Fine, I guess I love you,” Eddie concedes.

Richie raises his eyebrows. “That’s two Kaspbraks I’ve heard that from, now.”

“How are you an adult?”

“Get it? Because your mom—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie says, cutting him off. And Richie beams, all scruffy elbows and messy edges and Eddie can’t believe that there could ever be a universe where they hadn’t found each other.

A/N: there's a decent chance that the whole aspirin bit is bullshit,,, i did about five minutes of research on this and some websites said do NOT take aspirin and some said nothing so imma just put it in oops

#reddie #reddie fic #ficlet #sickfic #reddie sickfic #fix it #fluff #requests #eddieklapbak #answered #my writing #one shot

[finduilasclln]

14. “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.”

Morgan on Twitter gave me Stony number 14 for this prompt meme thing. 

Notes : Steve and Tony are stuck on a Quinjet that is slowly losing altitude, after an enemy blasted them with something that took out the jet and Tony’s armour. Don’t look too carefully at the technicalities, they won’t make sense. It’s just an excuse for angst and feels. 

Unbeta’d. 

***

Tony curses as he taps down on his armour bracelet, hard. It still doesn’t respond in any way, the armour lying motionless beside him on the floor of the jet, exactly as it’s been since the blast took out its power, and that of the Quinjet. He pushes down on the bracelet a few more times, regardless, with the same fruitless result. 

“Fuck!” Tony bites out, his heart rate spiking. They’re doomed, and he knows it. 

He looks over at Steve to start ranting, but swallows his words when he catches a glimpse of Steve’s pale face, staring out the window of the cockpit, out over the vast ocean beneath them. His shoulders are tense, his jaw clenched, and he looks like he’s about to be sick. 

Then it clicks somewhere inside Tony’s brain. This is the second time in his life that Steve is trapped in an airplane that’s about to go down in the water, with no way of escaping. Except… 

“You can jump,” Tony says, determined, the tension almost leaving his body at the realization that Steve might make it out alive. 

Steve’s head snaps over at him, eyes narrowing. 

“You can jump,” Tony repeats, hands motioning next to him, to the shield, “You can take the shield, it’ll protect you from the impact, and the serum will take care of the rest. The distress signal went out, someone will come looking for us. All you have to do is keep your head above water until they get here.” 

They managed to send out a signal to the rest of the team before the Quinjet’s tech went all haywire and unresponsive to their commands, so Tony is confident that they’re on their way. He’s also confident that the jet’s losing altitude at a speed that will render it impossible for the team to get here before it crashes into the ocean. And Tony’s suit is dead weight on the floor beside him, useless for a safe escape. He doesn’t even have the soothing sound of JARVIS’ voice to keep him company until the end. It’s just him and Steve. But Steve can make it out alive, Tony is sure. 

“Tony…” Steve looks at him with horrified eyes. 

“Maybe wait just a little bit longer,” Tony says, pacing around in the confined space, making calculations in his head, “Until the jet is closer to the water and the jump will be less high. It’ll increase your chances of - ” 

“Tony!” Steve cuts him off, turning his body completely away from the cockpit now, and towards Tony. “I am not leaving you here.” 

“I can’t jump,” Tony shakes his head, “The surface of the water from this height will be like hitting concrete. And if I wait until it isn’t, the crash of the plane will be too close and the water will swallow me whole anyway. But your body can withst- ”

“Not an option,” Steve says, a curt shake of his head, his face still pale. 

“Steve, this is…” Tony sighs, looking around the jet, “This is your worst nightmare relived. I can’t even imagine…” 

“Not. An option,” Steve says again, taking a step towards Tony and placing his hand on Tony’s upper arm in a comforting manner. Or as comforting as it can be, given the circumstances anyway. 

“I can’t fix the plane,” Tony says, defeated, because he needs Steve to understand that this is his only chance. “Or the armour.” 

“I know,” Steve says, his shoulders slumping a bit, like he’s accepting their fate and it’s taking some of the panic away. He’s visibly recomposing himself, and Tony would be impressed if it wasn’t pretty much a constant feeling when he’s around Steve. Steve always impresses him, no matter how much he tries to act like he doesn’t. 

It’s not that Tony doesn’t appreciate what Steve is trying to do, because he really does. The thought of dying alone here in this jet is all but paralyzing Tony with fear, but Steve has a chance of making it out, and he can’t give that up. Especially not for Tony. Why would he even want to? It’s frustrating to Tony, how Steve can’t be selfish just for one tiny second, even when his life depends on it. 

“Can’t you just stop being the altruistic superhero for once and jump?” Tony asks with a sigh, because he knows that this is his new mission. He can’t get them both out safely, but Steve’s life is the priority now. In a way, Tony thinks it’s always been. “To save your own life?” Tony asks. 

“This isn’t about being a superhero, Tony,” Steve argues, like he can’t believe that’s what Tony is thinking, “You can’t expect me to just leave you here, knowing you won’t make it out.” 

“I’m dead anyway!” Tony reasons, and he feels like there should be more panic in those words, but maybe that’s just the way it is when the end is nearing and he doesn’t have much time to do one last decent thing in his life. “Whether you stay here or not. There’s nothing you can do for me. But we don’t both have to die, Steve. So why on earth wouldn’t you take that chance?” 

Deepdown, Tony knows it’s not just a matter of doing one last decent thing. It’s about saving Steve’s life, because he loves Steve, dammit, and can it even be called selfish of him if Tony knows he’s dying regardless? 

“We’re not having this discussion,” Steve says, shaking his head determined, “We find another way or we don’t. But I’m not leaving without you.” 

Tony huffs out a breath in frustration, as he starts looking around the jet. There’s no way he can open the platform and push Steve out without Steve realizing what he’s doing and stopping him. Manually opening the platform will always lose him the element of surprise, and Steve is too strong to forcefully manhandle out of the plane. Tony’s only option is some kind of ruse, but… 

“Don’t even think about it, Tony,” Steve says, and when Tony’s head snaps back towards Steve, he’s surprised to see a small woeful smile tugging at his lips. When Tony frowns at him, Steve says, “You’re not pushing me out, or pulling me out, or whatever it is you’re planning on doing to save me.” 

Tony sighs, ducking his head as he rubs his fingers into his eyes. “I just don’t understand, Steve,” Tony says, his heart filling with sadness over this thing he’ll never have with Steve. Maybe if things had gone different? Maybe if Tony had known what was coming, maybe he would’ve been less scared and would have told Steve how he felt? 

But right now, they are slowly but steadily running out of time. 

“If roles were reversed, I know I would want to do exactly what you’re trying to do,” Steve says, glancing over at the water out of the cockpit window once more before sliding down to the floor on the jet, his back leaning against the plate of the metallic bench. “And I don’t know,” Steve says, directing a sad smile at the floor, “Maybe you would jump, I would hope you would. But I can’t.” 

There’s a sharp pang of hope in Tony’s heart, even though he doesn’t know what he could still be hoping for right now, but he makes his way over to Steve and sits down on the floor next to him, his knee purposefully bumping against Steve’s leg. 

“I wouldn’t,” Tony says, honestly, because he knows there’s no way on earth he could turn away from Steve in a moment like that. 

Tony pushes his fingers against his temples, then slides them down the sides of his face. He exhales sharply and says, “Fuck.” 

“Hey,” Steve says, reaching out to take Tony’s hand in his, slotting their fingers together like a perfect match, “I am with you, okay? Always.” Steve’s other hand closes over their joint ones, and Tony’s eyes sting as he closes them and leans his head against Steve’s collarbone. Steve is warm and his touch is calming, and Tony wonders if he can really wish for anything more in their final moments. 

“Me too…” Tony whispers, but he knows Steve hears it, and he reaches out his free hand to the tangled mess of fingers and rubs his thumb over the back of one of Steve’s hands. “I wish…” He doesn’t even know what he wishes for. There is so much to say, and so little time. He feels Steve’s mouth drop a kiss on the top of his head, and then Steve mumbles in his hair, “I know.” 

Maybe, Tony thinks, in another lifetime, in another universe, they will get another chance? 

He’s not sure how much longer they have left before the Quinjet dives into the water, and he certainly isn’t getting up and leaving the cocoon of Steve’s warmth to go and check. Instead he lifts up his head to find Steve’s face close, eyes red with unshed tears staring back at his. 

Tony doesn’t know who closes the last inch, but then their lips are touching, warm and comforting, their bodies huddled together and Tony thinks that if it all has to end here anyway, maybe this isn’t so bad. 

There’s a loud noise, almost like thunder, and the whole jet rattles and Tony thinks this is it, they’re hitting the water, and Steve’s arm curls around Tony protectively in a last desperate move to shield him from harm. There’s a sudden gust of wind blowing through the jet, and the sound wasn’t them hitting the water after all, but the door of the jet being ripped off its hinges, and the grey armour of the War Machine hovering into view.  

Tony can hardly believe his eyes, a manic laugh escaping from somewhere deep down in his throat, his hand still clutching Steve’s like a lifeline. 

“You guys ready to get out of here?” The metallic voice of War Machine sounds out over the weeping of the wind. 

Steve is pulling Tony up, his fingers never loosening their grip on Tony’s, and Tony is so elated, he can’t help but keep laughing out, “Rhodey Ex Machina.” 

*** 

Fin

#stony #stevetony #superhusbands #stony fic #the avengers #tony stark #steve rogers #Fin's fic #prompts #Fin's MCU fic #Fin's Stony fic

[popunktomlinson]

fall ‘19 rec

re-read:

Pull Me Under - zarah5 (140k)

AU. As the first British footballer to come out at the prime of his career, it helps that Louis Tomlinson is in a long-term, committed relationship. Even if that relationship is fake. (Featuring Niall as Louis' favourite teammate, Liam as Louis' agent, and Zayn as Liam's boyfriend, who just happens to be good friends with one Harry Styles.)

new:

Tell Me When You’re Ready (I’m Waiting) - insufferablelovebirds (17k)

When Harry's love letters to his old crushes get sent accidentally, one of his old crushes, Louis offers to help him fake a relationship but it gets complicated when feelings get involved.

Or an au loosely based off to all the boys I've loved before.

your rainbow will come smiling through - hazkaban (17k)

when harry isn't working at his stepfather's cafe, he's trying to make swim captain and trying to finish all his coursework on time. when he's not doing any of those things, he's talking to the boy he met on the oxford hopefuls subreddit. when they decide to meet, he's elated. he finally gets the chance to meet the boy he's been crushing on! when the day comes to meet his prince, he learns that his online crush is none other than louis tomlinson, captain of the football team and friend of his terrible stepbrothers. now harry has to decide whether telling louis the truth is the right choice or if it's better to just let sleeping dogs lie.

I’m A Man Who’s Got Very Specific Taste - patdkitten (4k)

“Birth control is getting expensive,” Louis repeats aloud to himself, focused on the medical bill he's just opened as he blindly locks back up his mailbox. “I could just stick with suppressants and condoms.” He continued, muttering to himself as he folded the bill back up. “It's not like I have a boyfriend or a mate or anything like that to merit continuing taking them.”

“Do you normally announce your sex life in front of the mailboxes?”

There's a strange alpha in the building that Louis calls home and he thinks maybe he'll make a proposition to the alpha. It goes a bit different than expected.

Love Isn’t Always on Time - messofgorgeouschaos (45k)

Falling in love with your best friend sounds like a good idea, until he comes back from a work trip engaged to another man. A Made of Honor AU.

Sonic Sounds - glasscushion (6k)

"Harry takes a deep breath, suitably embarrassed, “I’m just really...” and he can’t say the obvious. He can’t just say really wet."

Harry loves feeling embarrassed. Louis is happy to help.

Sit Next To Me - allwaswell16 (12k)

Harry Styles of One Direction always gets what he wants. Well, nearly always. What he can’t seem to figure out is why the very fit man who comes to assist Liam’s tattoo artist seems to have zero interest in him. Is Louis Tomlinson the straightest man alive? Or does Louis showing up for every show on tour mean something more is going on?

Howls Like A Beast (You Flower, You Feast) - indiaalphawhiskey (17k)

“You don’t love me,” Louis had said, utterly blasé as he callously fractured the heart of a Harry that was just barely eighteen.

“I do,” Harry had insisted pleadingly, green eyes already watering.

“You’ll change your mind once you’ve seen more of the world,” Louis had teased, pressing a brutally delicate kiss onto Harry’s lovely, pure cheek. “Once you’ve been properly defiled.” He had whispered filthily, delighted by the gasp he heard, the frantic pink blush that had rested high on Harry’s cheeks, the power he had felt at knowing he could make the Crown Prince squirm.

red hands - reveries_passions (132k)

a dystopian au in which harry, an ex-soldier who’s escaped from his government run camp, accidentally stumbles across the biggest rebel movement in the country, and louis, one of the rebellion’s mysterious leaders who appears to hate him, seems to simultaneously have an obsession with keeping him alive. or: harry is wanted for treason, niall hasn’t changed in four years, liam is always smiling, and louis is angry. like, really angry.

My Favorite Word - lightswoodmagic (3k)

“Nah,” Niall replied, typing on his computer and gracefully ignoring Harry’s embarrassment. The grin remained though. “He has a pretty specific...type. You could go help him out, you know. Pretend to be his boyfriend.”

Harry choked on the water he’d just swigged, his face brighter red still when everyone in the library turned to stare at him.

Or, Louis’ ex boyfriend won’t leave him alone, so Harry steps in.

Welcome Back From The Friend Zone - 2tiedships2 (32k)

“As we are both aware,” Louis began. “You are continuously complaining about not having the kitchen appliances needed when you want to make some of those random recipes you find online. And your precious waffle maker died recently.”

“Where are you going with this, Lou?” Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

“We need to pretend we’re getting married and send out announcements to rich people. Like billionaires who don’t know who we are.”

Or the one where an idea to create a fake wedding with the sole intent to receive gifts from billionaires took a turn no one, but also everyone, saw coming.

No Turbulence Please - wetdandelions (5k)

It's just Harry's luck that his rut hits right before his concert when he's stuck on an airplane with his best friend as the only omega. Luckily, Louis doesn't mind helping him out. All for a good cause, of course.

Stay Forever - allwaswell16 (6k)

For the last year and a half, Harry has spent his coffee break at the same cafe every day, not because he loves their coffee, but rather because of the gorgeous omega behind the counter making the coffees. As a beta, he’s sure he doesn’t stand a chance with him, so he goes online to find as close a substitute as possible.

A camboy au

Into Always - jaerie (4k)

Harry finds his ex's knotting dildo and gets a little curious. Louis is more than willing to help out.

The End Should Be A Good One - bannanasandboots (43k)

It doesn't feel like falling in love, the way it had felt the first time around, easy, simple, almost like floating, wrapped up in a whirlwind of touches and kisses, late nights spent laughing breathlessly into each other's skin. This feels broken, complicated, like every move carries the weight of their past. Like the floorboards beneath them could collapse at any moment. This doesn't feel good.

Or, the one where Harry loses the love of his life on New Years Eve and finds him again, six months later, ready to open some poorly-stitched wounds.

Send Me Your Pillow (The One That You Dream On) - flowercrownfemme (3k)

Harry is embarrassed to realize he's nesting but can't stop stealing Louis' things for his nest.

Hey, Mr. DJ - allwaswell16 (5k)

Harry really, really does NOT want to go out to a club tonight and be hassled by a bunch of alpha knotheads, but against his better judgement, he finds himself alone on the dance floor, barefoot, with an orange in his hand. This is all Niall's fault. At least the DJ is the most strikingly gorgeous alpha he's ever seen...

spice up your life - bottomlinson (9k)

After a conversation with his Uni friends, Harry worries that his relationship with Louis has lost it's spark.

(aka: an incredibly silly modern day love story ft. awkward boners, grumpy neighbours and Cosmopolitan sex tips.)

Falling All In You - dimpled_halo (16k)

Louis wins a contest to meet Harry Styles even though he doesn't consider himself a fan. What he doesn't expect is to win over the popstar's heart.

Floating - Snowy38 (56k)

There's places that you can go to get help. The doctor's, psychiatrists, psychologists and all that run in between. And then there's places that fall on the edge of those recognised institutions. Places that offer the kind of therapy that most medical boards would reject on the ground of ethics. That's the kind of place Louis Tomlinson needs. It's the kind of place he has found. And so he goes. To a sex therapist with an unorthodox way of curing...by actually having sex.That therapist just so happens to be Harry Styles.

Don’t Move In (Don’t Move Out) - 2tiedships2 (14k)

Only one more week and Harry would be living under the same roof. Gone would be Liam’s alpha scent, quickly replaced with Harry’s. All Harry. Louis was going to fucking die. You’d think Louis would be used to it by now, that Harry’s scent would simply fade into the background like Liam’s did. But Louis had a feeling he would simultaneously be living in Heaven and Hell once Harry moved in.

Blockheads (Building a home with you) - bitter_leaf (38k)

Louis is a no-nonsense contractor with a score to settle. Harry is an idealistic interior designer who just wants the world to be beautiful. When they decide to go on The Block, a reality TV show about renovating, they’re not prepared for what else they might build together…

unfinished:

Shake Me Down - AGreatPerhaps12 (206k)

Harry's new to college, fresh out of Catholic school and conversion therapy camp, and Louis runs the campus LGBTQIA organization.

Fall Into Your Gravity - zarah5 (74k)

AU. In which Harry is an overnight pop sensation and Louis steals plants, Zayn pulls Liam's proverbial pigtails and Niall's really just pleased there are more girls for him.

And The a Bit - infinitelymint (159k)

“We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.”

#fics #read #fic rec #mine

[exocara]

SV’s Quick Transmigration System

I love system fics and i love clowning shen jiu but i don’t have time to write. 

Shen Jiu’s life was one misery after another.

[Don’t be like that, Host! This is a blessing! You can change your fate!]

Even though Shen Jiu didn’t remember what happened in his life before he entered this Xinghai space, he was absolutely, positively, certain that his life was one misery after another, one calamity following the previous, a neverending shitshow of Bad.

Why else would he be here, after all?

[The sealing of your memories was part of the price that you had agreed to pay in order for the chance to change your fate. The other part is to go through four different worlds and complete the tasks pertaining to each world’s Target given to you, by me, in order to cultivate the Good Karma Points needed to return to your world! I am System Airplane, ready at your service.]

Right… and what if Shen Jiu decided to not cooperate?

[Ahh!! That’s not good, Host! If you don’t cooperate, you’ll be stuck in the Xinghai space forever!]

A tasteless outcome, even more so than the idea of having to do tasks for others.

[You agreed to this…] System Airplane seemed like it was sulking.

“The me of the past may have agreed to this, but I currently do not,” Shen Jiu said petulantly.

[Why are you so difficult!] System Airplane whined. [You’re already stuck here! You can’t get out without completing the worlds! What else can you do?]

What else could Shen Jiu do indeed?

-o-

The man in front of him looked almost breathtakingly familiar, despite the fact that Shen Jiu didn’t have his memories.

It was probably memories that came with the body, like a cheap bargain sale. Buy this and get an additional something else.

It had been around two days since he had arrived in this particular world but System Airplane still had not given Shen Jiu any tasks. Instead, he had tried telling Shen Jiu about the world in general, and who Shen Jiu was supposed to be. Shen Jiu tuned him out, not understanding why he needed to know anything in order to complete his tasks.

Yes, Shen Jiu agreed to the world hopping, but that didn’t mean he was going to be nice about it.

“Xiao Jiu…” the man in front of him said. The name did not sit well with Shen Jiu, and so of course he voiced out his opinions.

“Call me that name again and I will break your fingers.”

[HOST!!! That’s the Target of this world! Why are you being so mean to him!]

Why should Shen Jiu be nice to a man he didn’t know? Speaking of which,

“And who are you again?”

The man looked stricken and then, almost immediately after, guilty.

“I’m sorry, Xiao Jiu,” he said. “I--”

“At least have the courtesy of calling me by my name,” Shen Jiu said. Shen Jiu had forgotten the name he was supposed to assume in this world and was too proud to ask System Airplane about it. This was a good time as any to figure out what that name was.

“...Qiu Qingjiu,” the man said. Wow! What a shitty name.

“Oh second thought just call me A-Jiu,” Shen Jiu said. The man’s entire face seemed to light up with a fragile hope. Shen Jiu’s next words ground that hope into dust.

“Seriously, who the hell are you?”

-o-

The man never told Shen Jiu who he was.

[Host, he is Yue Qingyuan, used to be known as Yue Qi or Qi’ge, and he is your childhood friend! You were in the same orphanage together! When he left the orphanage, he made a promise to come back for you but you waited for five years to no avail! Little did you know, he had gotten into a serious accident and was in a coma and then rehabilitation for those five years and when he came back for you, you weren’t there at all! Then the both of you were -- are currently being actually -- reunited in University! I told you this!]

It must have slipped Shen Jiu’s mind.

[You weren’t listening at all, weren’t you!? It was such a masterfully crafted tale too, perfectly setting up the tumultuous relationship of misunderstanding between the both of you!]

Shen Jiu didn’t care. He just wanted to know what the task was.

System Airplane grumbled about Shen Jiu not being able to appreciate good literature, which was untrue. Shen Jiu was completely able to understand good literature, but not this dogblood shit sort of story. After all, he has been--

What had he been?

Before he could dwell any more on his confusion, System Airplane gave him his task.

--

Task: Join the Literature Faculty Club.

Reward: 5 Good Karma Points

Do you accept?

Yes / Yes

--

Shen Jiu wondered just what his answer would be.

Why was the system giving options if the options were the same?!

[Illusion of choice.]

Fuck you.

-o-

Yue Qingyuan was in the Literature Faculty Club because of course he was. Why had Shen Jiu ever entertained the thought of otherwise?

-o-

When the club meeting ended, Shen Jiu was the first to leave the room.

“Xi-- A-Jiu, wait!”

Shen Jiu didn’t wait. Shen Jiu was gone.

the idea is that shen jiu has to go into 4 different worlds to complete tasks pertaining to a “target”

1st world: yue qingyuan (modern day, rich heir) 2nd world: liu qingge (those space opera things with giant alien insects called zergs) 3rd world: luo binghe (zombie apocalypse)  4th world: mu qingfang (relaxing fantasy world shen jiu is really grateful for)

he has to do nice things for them like help them and save their life. but he gets to be prickly throughout it all which leads to funny ideas like he’s a tsundere and stuff. 

i.e. 2nd world 

sj: i’ll kill you, you asshole. mark my words the first chance you get i’ll absolutely obliterate you  sj: (helps lqg, risks his own life to save lqg, always covering up for lqg’s impulsiveness)  sj: i hate you and you’re dead to me  lqg: h

so later on the “5th” world is the scum villain world where he regains his memory and gets to change his fate of death 

but wait! 

the other 4 people gain memories of their individual world too!  

chaos

as you can tell, the system is airplane bro (lol) and it’s sort of after-canon for the original scum villain story. sometimes system airplane has to do something and so system cucumber has to come and help. one time, there’s system mobei. system mobei is shen jiu’s favorite. he allows shen jiu to kill things. 

other things: 

after sqq returns back to his world: sqq: system i understand why lbh, yqy, and lqg are targets... but why mqf?  system: by popular request

mu qingfang’s world is the most peaceful world sj has ever had. 

friend: sqq behaves as an actual tsundere once by accident bc he found himself reluctantly kind of fond of this peaceful life with this not a complete and total dumbass. for witnessing this mistake he came to actually hate mqf

me: hes so sad he has to die........ but alas the moment he said "its not like i did this for you or anything!!!" with a blush and caught himself, he realized that He Had To Die Right This Instant

Sqq: well around that person i feel like i want to see them happy, i feel troubled when theyre sad, i want to protect them, i want to help them, and i want to spend time with them Mqf: oh... do you want to kiis them? Sqq: (thinks) Sqq: nah Sqq: so what disease have i contracted Mqf: you just want to be their friend? Sqq: Sqq: i see.

(Next day) Sqq found dead in a ditch

can’t contract feelings if you’re dead!

#scum villain #fanfic

[living-dead-parker]

Europe - P.P

Summary: Request - Hi :)) could you write something where stark!reader is really sad and drained after the events of infinity war/endgame and doesn't want to talk to anyone so peter takes it upon himself to invite her to go to Europe with him and his friends? I'm sorry if that's too much to follow

Tony Stark won’t die if you just deny it. Literally just say Tony Stark won’t die in Endgame and he won’t die. It’s all just a lie created by the government or smth!!

Also, I hope you like it, anon!!

Warnings: some angst but it gets lighter at the end, major character death, cussing and Infinity War/Endgame/Far From Home (trailer/movie) spoilers so just read with caution. 

Word Count: 2k

Your hands grew clammy, suddenly the room was too cold, despite already wearing a sweater and a jacket on top of a long sleeve. You couldn't help but look over your shoulder and look around everywhere. It felt like, as long as you put your energy into focusing on other things, then you wouldn't begin to reminisce or you wouldn't feel the sudden need to throw up. Not like anything would come out, all you've had today was water. Not healthy, but not much of what you've done lately has been healthy.

You stand next to Peter, holding onto his hand for dear life. You're surprised it's not broken or anything. Ned and Michelle watch from a distance at how you hold on to Peter like he could disappear at any second. Which admittedly, is your newest and biggest fear. They smile empathetically at you as they approach, though you don't notice the looks on their faces.

"Hey," Michelle begins, her voice is soft as not to startle you or Peter. "The plane is boarding. We gotta go," Michelle says. Y/N turns to Peter and gives him a fearful look.

"Peter, I really don't have to go. Have fun with your friends. I'll be fine," you tell the young man. He shakes his head and grabs your other hand.

"Look, I wouldn't make you do something if it was dangerous. You deserve some good and maybe being away from home for a few weeks would do you some good. Please?" Peter asks. You look down at your interlocked hands and sigh in defeat.

"I'm just scared, is all."

"I know, Y/N. But, as long as I'm here nothing will hurt us. C'mon, it'll be fun!" Peter says. With another huff of air, you nod and gesture for Peter to lead the way. Michelle and Ned walk in front of you two, guiding the way to the terminal to board the plane.

Peter had invited you on his school trip to Europe. After the events with Thanos and destroying half of humanity, you weren't the same. When you found out about your dad stuck in space, you did everything in your power to get him back. You did everything you could to make sure he was back home. When you did get him back, you had the unfortunate luck of finding out that Peter was one of the many who got dusted in Titan. Once more, you did not rest until you got him back, scared at every moment that there was no coming back from it. In the end, your father had to pay the ultimate price. Not just him but Steve and Thor did too. They paid the ultimate price, which they saw as a small price to pay to restore the other half of humanity.

Since then, things hadn't been the same. You didn't want to live without your father. You didn't want to go another day without seeing your father, without hearing his snarky battles with FRIDAY, his technological jargon in the lab, his coffee filled rants. You smelled the ever-present scent of some expensive cologne that seemed to fill up a room and it would send you into a fit of tears and you'd be back at square one all over again. You were rarely awake nowadays, only waking up to use the restroom, drink some coffee and do other basic functions to survive. You'd lay in bed listening to The Cure on repeat and not moving a muscle. His words ringing in your head, calling you his greatest gift from the heavens. Praising you because you've taught him how to be a better person.

Deep down, you know your father wouldn't want that. He would want you to take over the business, to lead the Avengers in a new direction, to keep changing the world the way you planned to, but it was all a mere shell of what it all once was and you wanted no part in it. You don't want to change the world anymore. You just want things to go back to how they were.

So now you sit in an airplane right next to the window. Peter sits next to you in the middle, then Michelle and then Ned in the aisle seat. Peter lets you rest your head on his shoulder and before you know it, the world turns to black as you drift into a dreamless slumber. When you do open your eyes again, the plane is landing and everyone is awake. Eventually, the plane comes to a halt and everyone is getting their stuff together and boarding off the plane. You follow behind Peter after he grabbed both yours and his carry on bags. He follows behind everyone and when you exit the plane,  you see you've landed in Italy first.

Later that day, you all took a boat to the hotel where you'd be staying in. It was cheap and run down, but it looked comfortable. Peter had decided to let you stay in his room with him and Ned as you're not officially part of the trip, you just kind of crashed it and Mr. Harrington just never said anything about it. Upon reaching the hotel to settle down, you decided to plop down on the bed to get some rest.

"Nope," Peter says as he walks over to your shared bed and grabs you by your waist to pull you up. You groan and flail around to get him to put you down. "No, we're going out in an hour to get a tour of the vicinity and you're coming with. I didn't make you come just to mope in Europe."

"Peter, I didn't want to come. I just wanted to stay at home and deal with things my own way!" you argue. Ned takes that as his cue to leave. Peter gives him an apologetic smile but Ned waves a dismissive hand, letting him know it's okay. Ned ends up going to Michelle's room to hang out.

"Y/N, you have to talk to someone about it. Anyone. Pepper, Me, a therapist, your best friend. Someone. It's not healthy, what you're doing," Peter says. He didn't want to have this conversation because he knows how hard it is to lose his parents. He knows how painful it is to lose a parental figure when he could have done something about it. But because he knows how much it hurts, he wants to have this conversation even if it ends in you hating him.

"Peter, I don't want to be here-"

"I know you don't, babe. You just wanna be at home a-"

"No, I don't wanna be here, or anywhere, I don't want to be alive. I can't live like this and I don't know if I'll ever get over my father dying. I would always tell myself that he was the strongest person ever, he survived so many things that should have killed him, I told myself he would survive this. But he's gone and I can't bring him back and I just want him with me. I wanna be able to hug him, to smell his scent, to hear his shitty jokes or his weak attempts at flirting with someone. I just want him back. I would give anything to get him back but I can't!"

The sound of your sobs fill the room, so Peter walks over to you and wraps his arms around you. He pulls you close to him and rubs his hand up and down your back. He rocks back and forth to calm you down. After a few minutes, your cries turned into sniffling and labored breathing.

"H-how did you do it?"

Peter whispers back, "do what?"

"Cope. With your parents and Ben? How did you do it?"

"I was too young when it came to my parents, so I cried and then I got over it. When Ben passed," Peter pauses to compose himself. He lets out a shaky breath before responding. "I had a harder time. I beat myself up every day, but then I put my powers to use. I helped save people and the gratitude and the love I got, I felt it. I saved it and I imagined it's what Ben would have wanted. I would talk to May, Tony, to you. I'd vent to you guys and everything you would say stuck with me. So, I coped by being proactive, by doing good. Because it's what Ben would have wanted. It doesn't get better, Y/N. But it does get easier."

"It's just so hard, you know. He's the only real blood family I've had. My mother abandoned me so he was the only person I had. I just wish there was more I could have done t-"

"Y/N, listen to yourself. You've nearly killed yourself time and time again to save him, to save me, to save everyone. You've saved the world, believe it or not. You did everything you possibly could have to save him but in the end, he did what he had to. He did what he thought was right because he knew Earth was in good hands. He wouldn't want you to mourn-"

"But why did he have to be a fucking hero? I- fuck!" you cry as you look down at your hands.

"Y/N, it's okay to feel that way. It's okay to feel angry about it because it is unfair. It's unfair that he did what he did for a bunch of ungrateful people, but in the end, he did what he felt was right and you know it was the right thing to do. But he wouldn't want you to cope how you do. He'd want you to eat, and to drink water, and to go out and get some sunlight and he'd want you to explore the world and explore the facility. He'd want you to walk around and talk to people, to go grocery shopping or to go shopping for clothes. He'd want you to actually live. Because it's what you deserve."

You stay quiet for a few minutes before speaking up again, "I know I'm being selfish, I just miss him so much."

"And that's fine. We all miss him too, but we all miss you too. He took a piece of you when he left, but the rest of you is still with us and we miss you. So please take care of yourself. And not for anyone else, but for yourself," Peter says. He briefly checks his phone to see Ned sent a message saying they're all meeting outside. "Look, I gotta meet everyone outside. I'll let you sleep it off for now, but we're talking some more when I come back, okay?" Peter asks. You nod, smiling sadly at the boy. You lean up and press a kiss to his cheek.

"I love you," you softly mumble.

"I love you too."

A week passed and you all leave for London tomorrow. You decided to stop laying around and actually go out with the group. Everyone was so welcoming and they were really fun to hang out with. With all the activities planned, you didn't have time to stop and reminisce on all the bad stuff. Peter seemed ecstatic to have you back and in action. He could slowly see you becoming the person you once were. The carefree person who did anything to make everyone smile.

You were smiling more, and while the smile didn't always reach your eyes, he could tell you were trying. He could tell you were getting there. He knows it's a long journey, but he knows you'll get there. You were laughing more, often having trouble breathing or staying quiet. He could tell you were fighting the tears, but he was so proud you were trying. You were letting happiness back in, even if temporarily. He could see you making new friends, creating a whole new support system. Peter was so happy to see you trying, having fun, and living. Living your life again, the way you deserve to. How Tony would want it to be.

Please leave feedback or send in requests! Also send in some asks or come talk to me about anything!!

#Peter Parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x stark!daughter #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker reader insert #stark!reader #gender neutral reader #mentioned characters #tony stark #pepper potts #ned leeds #michelle jones #steve rogers #thor (marvel) #Thanos (marvel) #May parker #ben parker #angst #lighthearted at the end #requests

[irwintry]

Hallmark Movie Love Story

Warnings: swearing (he’s a potty mouth in this one folks)

Author’s Note: Christmas BABy!!! this was originally titled “the great snowmobile wreck of ‘18 and the hallmark christmas movie love story” lmao and there’s not even a snowmobile wreck in the story but that’s why i liked it

Word Count: 6.7k

Luke could read off all of the delayed or canceled flights by memory. He had seen them flash on every monitor he passed on the way to his terminal. Meanwhile, unhappy flyers were rushing by him to be the first at the information desk. Their holiday was ruined for sure, but his wasn’t, and that was all that mattered to him. He couldn’t figure out how his flight was one of the only ones on time, though he wasn’t complaining.

Even when boarding, he couldn’t believe his luck. The cruel part of him wanted to run off of the plane and rub the whole ordeal in the outraged flyers’ faces. His complimentary booze called his name, so he stayed put in the comfortable first-class cabin.

The skies didn’t look all that well, and turbulence had picked up right when they reached cruising altitude. If Luke didn’t know any better, he would say that the pilots miscalculated the possibility of the storm hitting their flight path. It didn’t matter to him now– he was up in the air, and everyone else was stuck in New York.

Luke had finished his first mimosa when the pilot announced over the intercom that the storm had pulled north, blocking the flight’s path and therefore preventing it from going farther west. His heart fell as he stared out of the frost-coated window, his eyes barely catching an inch of land below the clouds.

“Fuck,” he whispered and let out a breath. Luke believed he had a fairly strong intuition, and he trusted his gut. Right now, his gut was telling him that things were not going to go his way. If only it had told him that before.

The pilot informed them that they were landing in a town that started with S, but Luke didn’t care enough to register the information. He would buy a whole plane for himself if it meant getting home faster. The other passengers couldn’t say the same. If some of them were cute and desperate, he’d consider helping them, but certainly not the man beside him who reeked of B.O. and the burrito he chose to eat for breakfast.

Luke needed to get off of the plane in order to think coherent thoughts.

The plane touched down before noon, and already, the runway was slick and icy. The snow had started to fall only moments prior, and Luke knew that if it had been raining, it would be coming down in sheets. To his dismay, this was only the tip of the storm.

Karma was most likely going to fuck him up the ass.

There were no flights leaving from the tiny airport, and by the time he were to get onto the highway with the help of a taxi, it would be an hour into the storm. The roads would be closed by then. Luke had no choice but to go into whatever town was nearby and find a place to stay, and he was not happy about it in the slightest. He made sure everyone knew it by the look on his face.

All of his muscles were contorted in order to make a convincing irate frown. His mother would tell him his face would freeze like that, his cheeks all bitten in and eyebrows tightened together. He missed her, he really did, and he would love to see her if it weren’t for the lovely Winter Storm Dalton.

The ride into town was a nightmare– at least, it felt like it was to Luke. The taxi driver seemed content with the conditions, claiming that “not even an inch” had fallen, yet the occasional glance back through the plastic divider sent Luke into a minor panic. The radio station was a constant loop of Christmas oldies, and he wanted to reach up there and punch the off button, but he wasn’t that rude.

Luke didn’t hate Christmas, but if he couldn’t spend it with his family, he’d rather not have the holiday whatsoever.

There were only two motels within miles of the town, both with shiny new non-vacancy signs hung brightly in the office windows, and Luke wanted to tumble out of the cab and die. He tipped the driver a hundred before having them drop him off in the center of town. Before driving away, the driver told Luke about a few places to hit in the town before leaving tomorrow. This caused Luke to snort because he wasn’t even sure he would get out tomorrow, and he certainly wouldn’t be visiting any local art gallery.

He knew he looked fucking ridiculous. Everything on his body was designer, including his hat and coat. Even his luggage would cost most of the citizens of this town their arm and leg. Meanwhile, his shoulders pained him, and the tension had crawled its way up into his temples. He needed coffee.

Luke wandered for what felt like an hour, but it was really only two minutes when he stumbled upon a decent-looking coffee shop named The Coffee Pot. The windows were fogged, and it reminded him that warmth did exist, just not on his body at the moment. He could tell his cheeks and nose were bright red, and his ears were physically hurting his head even more.

The door chimed on his way in, and out of the many times Luke’s presence silenced a room, this had to be the most uncomfortable. All conversations ceased, and the only sound reverberating through the all-too wooden interior was the faint drone of Bing Crosby singing “White Christmas”. He clutched his suitcase and started towards the counter.

“The west coast too warm for ya, son?” an older man shouted from the back corner, and Luke didn’t hesitate to glare at anyone who chuckled. “This ain’t Malibu, sweetheart.”

“Give him a break, Darryl, he’s probably tired from travelin’.”

Luke’s head snapped over to the counter where the next voice came from. Instead of finding another grumpy local, he found you, a soft and smiley barista that clearly would get on his nerves if he spoke to you long enough.

You were leaned up against the counter as he approached you, and you were still smiling as you asked, “what can I get ya?”

Luke wanted solitude. He wanted no one to speak to him ever again. But he also wanted the richest cup of coffee he could get in Buttfuck, New York. “Small coffee,” he muttered, already digging into his wallet for a few dollars. “Darkest roast.”

“Cream ‘n sugar?”

“No.”

“Okie dokie,” you said. “You can put the fifty-cents in the tip jar.”

Luke quirked a heavy, wet (from the snow) brow. “Fifty-cents?”

You nodded. “The coffee’s fifty-cents.” You had already poured the coffee into a to-go cup, and now you were standing with your arms crossed. Maybe Luke wasn’t the only one with an attitude. “Can I get ya anythin’ else?” A sigh followed your question.

“No.”

“Ya sure?” You smirked at him, and he didn’t like that one bit. “We got food. Airplane food’s not quite as good as my world-famous pressed paninis!”

Luke nearly snorted. You were annoying, yet funny. World-famous... he’d had world-famous, and he was positive you hadn’t even come close to knowing what it tasted like. “Got any salads?”

“Um,” you mumbled. “No, I’m– I’m sorry, we don’t.”

Great. Poor service and no salads. Luke wanted to get the hell out of this town. “Fine. Gimme a world-famous panini, then.”

“Oh!” You grinned, your entire body jumping as you leaned your elbows back onto the counter. “Which one? We got– “

He didn’t listen as you listed off the sandwiches, so when you stopped talking, he played the lottery and said, “the last,” before setting down his cash and walking away with his coffee. Luke was normally nicer than this, but his day had been so fucked up already, and he wasn’t terribly in the mood for talking to a cute yet chatty barista. However, he did feel guilty for not saying thank you.

Luke took a seat at a table by the wall adjacent to the counter. Every single one of your customers stared at him as he did so, but just as he opened his mouth to retort a snarky comment, they returned back to their conversations. They were more interested in his rich, LA vibe, and they definitely wondered why he was here instead of there. He would rather be there than here any day.

He winced as he took a sip of his coffee. It was watery like he expected. No good coffee is fifty cents. The person to his right had been staring at his luggage for a good minute now, which for some reason, pissed Luke off to no end. Every little thing that bothered him was heightened due to the incredulous turn of events of the day. It wasn’t even two in the afternoon.

The coffee sat idle as he began to scribble down his thoughts into a random journal he picked up in Munich just the other month. His life was too extreme for the people of this town. They wouldn’t last a day in his boots, nor would he want them to even breathe near his boots. Someone could glance at them and he’d spit.

Luke wrote for a while, his thoughts pouring out onto the handmade paper without even realizing that a hot unknown panini had been placed down right in front of his nose. Also, a few of his crumpled bills had been strewn beside it.

“Few dollars too much,” you said, your face expressionless as you prepared to back away. “This is Spruce Creek, not LA. The world isn’t as shiny as it seems.” And then you were gone, and Luke wanted to laugh.

Everyone here thought they were so philosophical– it killed him. He shoved the few dollars into his pocket before staring at the steaming sandwich. A growl emitted from his stomach at the sight of the pesto running down the crusty sides, and Luke didn’t realize how truly hungry he had been until he reached for the sandwich and took a great big bite. He nearly moaned at the warmth spreading on his tongue. If only the coffee had lived up to his expectations, then maybe he would give this place a little more credit.

Luke pictured you in a city like New York, but he wasn’t sure you could handle the hustle and bustle. You certainly didn’t belong in LA– you seemed like the type that thrived off of snow and hot chocolate. Plus, you also seemed satisfied with the community you created with this coffee shop. Everyone was speaking to one another as if they were longtime friends... everyone but Luke. He didn’t want to be friends with any of them anyway.

Time ticked away faster than he assumed it would. Come mid-afternoon, the sun had set, and people were flooding into the coffee shop for food. They all looked the same to him, and they all knew each other’s’ names. Mid-afternoon slowly turned into early evening, and before Luke knew it, the whole place had cleared. His coffee remained untouched from earlier.

“Hey Curly, we’re closin’ up,” you called from the other end of the café. You were stacking chairs, your apron now thrown over your shoulder like a proper barista would. He had noticed you scrubbing down surfaces, but he hadn’t put two-and-two together.

“Fuck,” he muttered, eyes widening and pen slipping from his grip, though he made no effort to move. Luke had slept in cars and vans and buses, yet not once had he slept on the street. If he truly wanted to, he could go back to the airport and stay there, however, conditions were worsening outside.

The chair in your hands fell to the table with a spine-shuddering bang. Luke was just thankful he didn’t have all that much caffeine in him or else the sound would have sent his nerves flying.

“Where we ya headin’ to?” you asked, continuing your round about the floor.

“Does it matter?” he sighed as he rubbed his temples. “Got no fuckin’ place to stay.”

You didn’t answer as you stepped back behind the counter to shut off the lights to the kitchen.

“’m stuck in this fuckin’ town with all you fuckin’ people,” he said, “and Spice Crete is so fuckin’ small that your tiny ass motels turned me away. Me. I coulda given ‘em triple their nightly rates! So fuckin’ stupid. I’d rather’ve stayed in fuckin’ New York City with everyone else whose flight was canceled.”

“Spruce Creek.”

“What?” Luke snapped. He imagined that his face looked awfully crude.

“The town,” you giggled, shutting off the lights that were behind the camera. You walked over to him and placed your hand on the leg of an overturned chair. “’s Spruce Creek. Although, I wouldn’t mind the Spruce changing t’Spice. Sounds festive.”

He rolled his eyes.

There was another moment of silence as you stared at him, and he was about to say something about it before you said, “so, stay at my place.”

Luke knotted his brows together. Every line in his face deepened with confusion. “What?”

“I’ve got a couch,” you replied with a smile. “It’s not a California king-sized, but it’s some cushion until the conditions clear up. Free of charge.”

He was about to snort. He was about to say no. But he had no other options. Luke was forced to nod and accept your kind invitation. He hated that you seemed so happy about it.

-

Luke was grateful (truly, he was), but he could not handle your constant chatter. Were all small-town people the same? Did they all talk about nothing that mattered to him just to get under his skin? After you had taken him down the road to the tiny apartment building you resided in, Luke decided he was going to lock himself in the bathroom for thirty minutes of peace. The idea of brushing his teeth and scrubbing off the airplane and coffee shop grime tempted him, though the jingling of a collar snapped him out of his thought process.

A stout and slightly chubby Pitbull waddled over to greet the two of you as you entered through the (god awfully creaky) door. It went right to you, but it soon cowered back into the hallway right when it noticed Luke.

“That’s Grape!” you exclaimed, meanwhile making baby sounds to summon the dog back. “She’s shy when it comes to men. The vet thinks it might be because of her past owner, or something.”

Luke felt the disappointed come and go. Memories of Petunia hit him like a freight train, and it only reminded him further that he wanted nothing more than to be home with her. His eyes fell on the tree in the corner of the living room, and fuck, what a pathetic thing that was. Had you only gotten it yesterday? You didn’t seem like the type of person that had to settle for the runts. The apartment was decked out top-to-bottom for the holiday, so it didn’t make sense that the tree appeared to be seconds away from catching flame.

Whatever. It didn’t matter to him anyway. He was going to be here for a day or two at tops. And, if it had to be any longer, Luke would rather walk home.

And then the tree kept bothering him. “What’s– why’s your tree like...”

You huffed, but you laughed along with it. “Sad?” You shrugged and plopped down onto the hardwood floor as Grape came ambling over. “Couldn’t afford the price of a pretty tree.”

Luke frowned. Now that was unacceptable. “Where’s the nearest tree farm?” he asked you, eyes narrowing on you and the tubby pup that refused to look at him. It truly crushed him that he was not getting attention by that dog. If anything was keeping him back, it would be Grape.

“Um, there’s one behind Martha’s candle shop, so just like a five-minute walk,” you said. “Why?”

“I can’t sleep on a couch facing that fuckin’ thing,” Luke grumbled as he hugged himself with his arms.

“But I can’t– “

“Think of it as me leaving my mark.” He shrugged. The closer he got to closing himself off I the bathroom, the happier he would be. “Buying a tree will hardly put a dent in my wallet.”

You nodded, your lips pulling into a small frown as you lifted yourself off of the floor to stand. “You know,” you mumbled, “you’re gonna find some of the nicest people here in this town. They’ll treat ya like family if you let them. The storm will be over soon, and you’ll go back to your sports cars and model girlfriends. But there’s a warmth you’ll get here that you’ll never get anywhere else. Don’t flaunt things in their faces. People may not be rich here, but they have more worth than you will ever know.” You grabbed your coat from the small hook beside you. “Let’s go.”

-

Luke didn’t like receiving the cold shoulder from anyone, and for some reason, he hated it coming from you. You, the cute, chatty barista who somehow knew exactly how to piss him off. Yet, now that you were upset with him, the entire town would be on his ass. How could he hurt the sweetheart who owned The Coffee Pot? How dare he? Luke hardly expected to come out of this alive.

He didn’t know how to pick out a Christmas tree– he just saw them in movies and always dreamt of the day he could cut one down and decorate it himself. You, however, knew exactly where to go as you stalked off to the way back. Sure, he was right about there being a lot of runts, but there were good ones too. You certainly had experience in shopping for trees. You handled the saw with ease on the walk through the trees while he stumbled over stumps while the tree wagon nicked his shins.

Luke hadn’t made a snarky comment since you snapped at him, which honestly, he deserved. He was being a bit cruel to the folks around town. They had no say in his matters– it was not their fault that he was stuck in this god-awful place.

“If this fuckin’ thing hits my fuckin’– “

“This one,” you said, pointing to a great Fraser fir standing a whopping six feet (he guessed considering he was slightly taller than it).

Luke’s forehead scrunched. “It’s so– “

“Short?” you wondered aloud. “Mhm. I’ll name her Patrice. Who’s cutting? You, or me?”

He stuttered out a pitiful, “uh, I– uh– I-I don’t– “ before you sighed and kneeled on the snow-covered ground.

His eyes widened at your audacious action, and he wondered if you cared about your pants at all. Luke, on the other hand, was freezing his butt off. He was lucky he had a hat to keep his delicate ears warm, but his hands were numb in his coat pockets. The snow was falling in fat, chunky flakes that greatly affected his vision. The two of you looked kind of hilarious, all covered in snow and such, and you were somehow already well into your sawing. You definitely did have experience.

The word “wait” uttered from his lips a moment later.

“What?”

“I-I wanna try.”

You chuckled and sat up. Your arms were coated in needles, and your entire front side was caked in snow. “Give it a go, then,” you said, handing him the saw.

Luke knelt on the ground as he did his best not to wince at the fact that his few-hundred-dollar pair of pants was now soaked in snow, mud, sap, and many other things he didn’t want to think about. He laid down, just like you had, and shit, he wanted to whine about it so badly.

The floodlights overhead hardly shed a speck of light through the needles, which meant he couldn’t see a single thing of what he was about to cut. You had sawed a little already, so he searched and searched for the itsy divot you created.

“I look fuckin’– how the hell do you do this?” he asked, somehow already frustrated. His arms were cramping, and they hadn’t even moved.

You chuckled from above. When he glanced up (as best as he could through the lower boughs), you had grabbed ahold of the top to balance it out for when he began sawing. “Back ‘n forth.” You motioned it with your hands, and honestly, it looked more like–

“A handjob?”

This made you burst into a fit of unforeseen laughter, and that actually caused him to smile, too.

“Like a handjob, yup,” you said.

He nodded and returned his gaze back to the dark underbelly of the fir. Here goes nothing.

It took a bit of time, coercion, and tears, but Luke finally managed to cut down the small fir. He insisted on lifting it into the little wagon too, but the blunt end of the trunk fell on his toe, so you ended up helping out with that one. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure the experience had been worth it, but he promised you a better tree, and hell, you were getting a better tree.

“Cool beans,” you muttered, out of breath. A few snowflakes had stuck to your eyelashes, and that made him smile a bit. You were really pretty. Brushing off your hat, you huffed out, “now, let’s go get Patricia straightened.”

“I thought it was Patrice.”

You pouted. “Oh. Yeah. Patrice.”

Luke had no idea how he remembered that over you, but he knew that in due time, he would hopefully forget Patrice and this entire experience.

-

Luke awoke to a slobbery grin by his nose, and before he could register the puppy’s stare, he was being attacked with big, wet kisses. He had almost forgotten where he was as he laughed at the dog’s sudden friendliness, and then he smelled the burning from the kitchen. The half-open French doors separating the living room from the kitchen only hid so much, so the dancing mess that you were could easily be seen. He recognized the song playing softly through your phone as some song from “10 Things I Hate About You”. Honestly, his life at the moment could have been so much worse.

The spatula flew from your hands, and you yelped, causing poor Grape to waddle off in fear.

“Shit, Y/N,” you muttered to yourself, clambering across the bench surrounding the table to fetch the fallen soldier, “that’s not how you make eggs.”

Luke snickered, but he hadn’t meant it to be as loud as it was. You slipped onto the floor, and he heard your dog’s collar jingle from down the hall.

“Mornin’,” you huffed, kicking your legs out and accepting your defeat. “Like eggs?”

“Got ketchup?”

You groaned. “You disgust me.”

Luke cracked a grin.

“But no, sorry,” you mumbled with a shrug. “’m not a big ketchup fan.”

“You disgust me.”

You leaned forward to peer through the glass of one of the open doors so you could view Patrice in her bare glory. “Thanks, again. For Patty.”

He nodded. “Thanks for giving me a place to stay.”

You nodded, too.

“Need any help in the kitchen?”

Luke found out that you burned some toast, and you were about to serve him watery eggs, which didn’t make much sense to him considering the masterpiece sandwich you crafted for him yesterday. Now it was his turn to show you his skills, although they weren’t all that great. He just wanted things to go faster so he could get the hell out of Spice Girl Creek. The weather didn’t appear all that better just from his observations, but maybe it would be okay by the afternoon.

He had plated your breakfast when you said to him,

“Roads are still closed. We’re only in the middle of Dalton.”

Luke nearly dropped your plate. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He set the two plates down and began to pace a bit.

You shook your head. “But you’re more than welcome to– “

“Leave me alone,” he snapped and raced in the direction of the bathroom. Grape followed after him, and she soon began whining after he closed the door in her face.

Luke wanted to scream or cry or something in between. He was stuck in this town with you and all of those other weird old people that only saw him as a fake movie prop. He was real, and he was so mad that everyone looked at him as if he were the oddest frickin’ man who walked the face of the earth. Sure, he was pricey, and sure, one of his outfits cost more than your monthly rent, but that didn’t give them the right to stare. Just because he was untouchable didn’t mean he had zero feelings completely.

Maybe he was being unreasonable. He wasn’t a fucking god. All of Luke’s feelings stemmed from the fact that he couldn’t get home, and he really had no right to take it out on them. He had no right to take it on you, the pretty stranger that was being too fucking nice to him and his ugly temper.

With a sigh, Luke rinsed his face and walked out to join you for breakfast.

You were sat at the table when he walked back in the kitchen, your one hand petting a snorting Grape, the other struggling to pick up a few bites of egg onto a fork. “I’m sorry,” you said to him as he walked in.

Luke shook his head. That was the last thing you needed to say to him. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I really don’t want you to think I’m this rude.”

“No, I get it,” you said. “Ya just wanna go home. I get it.”

He sighed and took his spot on the bench across from you. From what he could remember, his grandmother had a table and bench set like this at her old home. They were nestled between three walls just like yours, but in your case, the kitchen was within arm’s reach.

A thought popped into Luke’s mind. “Do you– do you really run The Coffee Pot by yourself?”

You nodded happily. “Well, sort of. My friend Charlie co-owns it, but he moved away last spring. It’s been me and a few other pals for months now.”

“Jesus,” he said, taking a bite of his bland eggs. Ketchup would have been great, and he wasn’t sure he could ever forgive you for not having ketchup.

“So, I work ten to close,” you said as you poured a bit of salt onto your eggs. Not much better than ketchup. “You’re free to sit in the seating area with the regulars. Darryl might give ya a hard time again. Or, you could see all that Spruce Creek has to offer! Although you might not wanna become an abominable snowman, so it’s up t’ya.”

“Hm, I might,” Luke mumbled. He truly did need a head-clearing walk.

“Waterman’s Bridge is pretty in the winter,” you said, “especially when the river is frozen over. It’s just a ten-minute walk east. The local art gallery is nice. I actually have a few works in there myself. And– “

Luke began zoning out when you mentioned the art gallery. He didn’t know it then, but he had been caught up in the movement of your lips as you spoke. That was the first sign, and after that, he lost track.

-

He dropped by Waterman’s Bridge briefly, but his cheeks were too chapped to withstand the brisk cold of Winter Storm Dalton’s fury. Unfortunately, though he did bring a few beanies and a singular pair of gloves, none of them were thick or warm enough to brace the harsh winter. The next stop was the art gallery like you said. He swore he wasn’t going to visit it, but after you mentioned you had a few pieces hung up, his brain convinced him to drop by.

The building was about the size of your one-bedroom apartment, and the artworks were all cramped and snuggled together like your vintage furniture. This made it easy to spot your creations, and when he did, he found himself going back to examine them. The curator of the place recognized him, but to his luck, they only bothered him for a moment before leaving him be.

Your work wasn’t the worst he’d seen, nor was it the best. Truth be told, he didn’t know what to think about it. He spent a good twenty minutes analyzing the film photographs only to realize there was nothing significant to be analyzed. All Luke knew was that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from your art, and that troubled him. They were special because you made them.

He pictured you stretched out on the floor of your living room, couch pushed against the wall as you painted whatever damn thing that came to your mind. You probably carried your film camera with you everywhere, but he suspected that, since it was a literal blizzard outside, your creative eye was being restricted.

Luke quickly shuffled out of the gallery in order to avoid the gaze of the curator. He started in the direction of your coffee shop, but then he remembered the candle store, and oh, did he love candles. Maybe he would pick one up for his mother. Maybe he would pick one up for you.

“Luke, what a pleasant surprise,” you said as he walked in.

The heat hit him like a sudden gust of wind, and he had to shake the snow off of his coat and boats before walking off of the carpet and onto the hardwood. “Need a coffee fix,” he muttered, glaring at a few strangers (or regulars as you would call them) that happened to stare a bit too long.

“Small coffee?” you asked.

He bit his lip and leaned towards you. “Gotta be honest, your regular coffee is more water than coffee,” he whispered. A part of him wished he hadn’t said that, but then you giggled.

“I told Emily that her coffee isn’t nearly as strong as Charlie’s was.” You took a mug from the rack by the espresso machine and faced him. “All right. Prepare yourself for the best coffee you’ve ever tasted.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “Bet?”

“Oh, I don’t need to!” you exclaimed. “I already know it’ll be the best coffee. If I’m wrong, then you can have Grape.”

“What?” Luke’s voice escaped him at a higher octave than he had hoped for. “You wouldn’t bet your dog on coffee.”

“Just you wait!”

Luke waited, and truly, he had to admit that you were right. The coffee was damn fantastic, but he wasn’t sure if it was the best he’d had. He would have to try every single cup of coffee he’d tried from around the world to put yours up to the test. But in the meantime, yes, your coffee was the best coffee, and he needed two more cups.

He stayed until close again, his stomach now stuffed with the same turkey pesto panini from yesterday. For the few hours he sat there, half of them were spent admiring you from afar, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Even the stranger next to him elbowed and teased him about it. Luke’s face fell, and he returned back to journaling.

Before exiting into the marshmallow world outside, Luke handed you a heavy brown paper bag.

“What’s this?” you asked, looking inside and fishing out a dark green candle.

“A candle.”

You knotted your brows together in confusion.

“For gratitude,” he continued. “’m not sure what scents ya like– “ He scratched the back of his neck, “–but I figured balsam and cedar was the best– “

Your arms were around his neck before he knew it, and he easily relaxed into your hug. Luke felt himself melt against you, his senses taking in your warmth and your scent purely for a memory stamp. He was slowing starting to realize that he did not want to forget about this experience or you.

“T-thanks,” you said, backing away as a great big smile grew on your cheeks. “This– this is the best thing you could have done for me. Thank you.”

“Course,” he replied. Luke began to smile as well.

Back at your place, you dug out boxes of ornaments. You had only just put them away yesterday once you got rid of your previous tree. A moment later, you invited Luke to help you decorate Patrice, and he jumped at the opportunity.

“What Christmas songs do you prefer?” you asked, stretching your arm out far so you could reach for your phone on the coffee table. The two of you had been untangling the metal hooks from the big ball they had forced themselves into. You let out a soft sound as you bent over, causing something to spark in Luke’s heart. “Traditional or gross modern?”

“I take it you got an opinion,” he muttered mockingly. “Traditional. Gimme that Bing Crosby shit.”

You grinned. “Man of my dreams.”

Luke wasn’t sure if you meant him or Bing Crosby. Whatever it was, it made Luke blush.

-

“Luke,” you whispered in his ear.

He groaned, rolling over and pulling the blanket higher on his bare torso to keep the chills from hearing your voice at bay. The shutter had already traveled halfway up his spine. In his dream, your fingers were tracing along his bicep as the other massaged his scalp. Your chests were pressed together, and the skin-to-skin contact was making his mind reel with pleasure and intimacy. God, you were so beautiful. How had he not noticed before?

“Luke,” you whispered again. Shit, did your voice get sexier?

Luke hummed, but it came out more like a moan as he imagined your lips sucking and biting–

“Luke!” you shouted, hitting his head hard with a couch pillow. “Wake up.”

His eyes snapped open to find you not in bed with him, but in fact, kneeling beside him fully clothed. Fuck.

“The roads are open,” you said. “Snow’s stopped.”

He jumped up, a grin spreading far on his cheeks. Before he knew it, he was lifting you up by the waist and holding you against him, his hand finding its way into your hair so he could press your head onto his chest.

“I take it you’re happy?” you mumbled against his hot skin.

“So fuckin’– “ His mind interrupted his tongue. That meant he could leave. That meant he had to leave. He had to leave you. Luke frowned and pulled away from you.

“What?” you wondered as you examined his suddenly worried expression.

His hands moved onto your cheeks, his thumbs grazing the soft skin underneath your eyes while he thought about what he was going to say.

“What?” you chuckled out lightly, but you soon lost your smile.

“Jus’ thinking about kissing you,” he said, “before I go.”

You were silent for a moment.

“’m sor– “

“I won’t want you to leave if you do,” you whispered, your hands reaching up to gently wrap around his wrists.

Luke nearly let out a breath, but he hadn’t brushed his teeth. “I gotta shower.”

You nodded, dropping your grip on his wrists as he dropped his on your cheeks. “Course.”

His heart was thumping loudly in his chest as he scurried around the small bathroom. He tossed his clothes to the floor, the toothbrush in his mouth nearly sliding back down his throat before he caught it with a gag. The water of the shower was hot enough by the time he had rinsed all of the toothpaste from his mouth, and then you knocked on the door.

“’m– I’m naked!” he shouted hurriedly.

“Yeah, um– I-I figured,” you stuttered out. He could picture you clutching your arms close against your chest like he knew you did when you were nervous.

Luke walked over to the door and opened it slightly so he could peak his head out. You were standing just how he imagined you would be, except he hadn’t expected to face the thick tension that he knew all too well. Your lips were pulled into a pathetic little pout, and it took every ounce of him not to tug you into the bathroom with him.

“I’m just– I’m– I’m gonna miss you,” you said. “I-I don’t– shit, I– “

Luke reached out and grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you in so he could press his lips against yours in a heated kiss. Maybe it was the steam from the shower, but every single nerve in his body ignited. You were kissing him back with as much fervency as he, and he couldn’t help but let himself taste what he had been missing these past three days.

“I’ll miss you,” he murmured breathlessly, nudging your nose and slowly kissing down your cheeks and onto your neck. “So much.”

You unexpectedly pulled away, your eyes frantic, and your lips tugged into a deep frown. “No, you won’t,” you said.

Luke rested his face against the door. “What d’ya mean?”

“Y-you won’t miss me.” You cracked a smile. “You’ll go back to LA– see your friends and family, and you won’t miss me. You won’t miss this town– you won’t even remember it. It’ll be like some dream to you.”

“No,” he said, “that’s not true.”

“Are you sure?” you laughed somewhat maniacally. “You’re famous, Luke. Famous people don’t belong in a town like Spruce Creek. This is for people who have no other choice.”

He shook his head, but you had already walked into your bedroom and closed the door.

-

You offered to drive Luke to the airport, but neither of you spoke the entire time. He wanted to say so much to you, though none of the words that popped into his brain seemed right. Nothing seemed right. Leaving you, despite knowing you for the few days he had, felt like the worst decision he was about to face. He trusted his intuition, and it was telling him to stay.

It continued to tell him to stay as he waited three hours for security to open. It told him to stay as he waited with the other five people at the wrong gate before realizing there was only one other gate to wait by. It told him to stay as he sat on his phone for another three hours, looking at all of the pictures he managed to take through the blustery snowfall. It told him to stay as he gathered his belongings and waited for his ticket to be scanned.

And lastly, it told him to stay as he turned around and rushed out of the airport, his belongings banging around on the pavement behind him as he hailed for a taxi.

His forehead had broken out into a dripping sweat by the time he made it to The Coffee Pot. It was minutes away from closing– he knew. Luke tipped the driver before clambering out onto the slushy road. He hoped you wouldn’t see him just yet.

What was he doing? He had a whole life waiting for him back home. What was he doing?

The door chimed as he stepped in, that familiar gust of hot air hitting him as Darryl shouted, “Ay! Malibu’s back! Give ‘em a kiss for me Stan.”

Stan made a disgusted face as every head turned to Luke. Every head including yours.

“Luke?” you gasped.

“My legs hurt,” he said, “so c’mere.” He nodded you over and watched you walk out from behind the counter. Your steps were wary as you neared. “’m done missing out on other chances. Who says I can’t fall for someone I just met? Who says I can’t drop a few things just to be with you for a bit? Who says it won’t work out?” He chuckled. “I just know I’m crazy about ya, and I don’t really know what else to do but stay.”

You grinned, pulling him down by the neck as you pecked his lips over and over. “See?” you mused. “Small towns ain’t so bad.”

He hummed, a lazily smile finding its way onto his lips. “With you, never.”

tags!

@lilhemmo @oh-annaa @youngbloodstyles @tommyswolves @lukeofmine @crystalisinfinite  @dammitbands

#5sos #5sos au #5sos imagine #5sos fanfiction #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer au #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer fanfiction #luke imagine #luke au #luke fanfiction #luke hemmings #luke hemmings au #luke hemmings fanfiction #luke 5sos #my writing #swearing #christmas #christmas!5sos #holiday!5sos #winter!5sos #au #imagine #smut #fanfiction #5sos writing #5sos fanfic #luke fanfic #luke hemmings fanfic #luke imagines

[lovestruck-au]

Petals

Ross woke up but it wasn’t his bed.

1. Dawn | 3. Lorencia | 4. That Feeling

Child abuse mentioned and pre-panic attack elements in this one.

Ross felt conscious coming to him like a soft wave and immediately felt in that unsetting way, like something was wrong. First of all, it wasn’t his bed. His back was already protesting against the surface it was laying on. It didn’t even feel like a bed, more like a floor. But why would he sleep on a floor? He already got used to soft mattresses didn't he?

It was a little funny, even, because he recognized that feeling and it wasn’t a nice memory. Just like the smell of cleaness filling the room he was sleeping in. It made him think about pain, fear and all those sleepless nights he spend as a child. But it was probably just his mind, tricking him into thinking things.

Funny again, but he didn’t feel a thing. Just soft numbness where his prosthetics were, like if they weren’t there anymore. It was funny because he usually didn’t take them off when he was going to sleep.

It came to him very slowly, that they were attacked. Once again.

Ross opened his eyes and immediately jolted up. First thing he noticed was white. Overwhelming whiteness of the room, making his head throb with pain and bad memories, hurting his eyes. He shielded them with his hand. Or rather wanted to shield them with his right hand, but noticed he’s not able to do that.

Because his prosthetic arm was gone.

Ross’ breath hitched. He looked himself over, noticing that not only the arm was gone but his leg as well. He was clothed in pale mint shorts and a shirt, in the same color, with long sleeves. One of them was knotted over stump of his arm, so that the sleeve wasn’t dangling freely out of his shoulder.

Ross pawed at his left eye, with relief noticing it was on its place. Then he tried to recall where he was, but couldn’t remember anything after the attack.

What he could think about was that this place didn’t seem pleasantly. That it seem disturbingly similar to The Laboratory, the one he ran away from, the one where he thought he’ll die in. Panic immediately overwhelmed him. Clutching his shirt with a hand Ross struggled to take a breath, blood flowing to his head and making it hurt even more, his heart seeming to choke him, his back sweating and stomach clenching painfully.

He couldn’t be back there. He would die for sure.

Grasping of that little string of logical thinking, Ross cautiously looked around the room. It had heavy looking door, white walls, white ceiling, white bed more similar to rock than actual bed and a window.

It had a window. There was a window, even though it had bars in it, it was there and that meant it’s not The Laboratory, that’s it is some other place but it wasn’t The Laboratory. Ross sighed, his body calming even so slightly. He still didn’t know where he was or what will happen to him. But he knew it’s not the worse.

He needed to get back his leg. At least, because he couldn’t imagine running away without it. He needed to locate it and then act quick, as quick as possible, because probably he would be already in the middle of running and-

Oh right. He needed a plan. He needed to think about what happened. First of all, was he the only one caught? Was Love with him in this place? Was Lorencia and Bob free and safe (oh gods he hoped they were)? He needed to somehow learn this, so he could create a plan and save them if they all were here.

For a second there his mind made him think about Lorencia getting into the same facility he was in for half of his life. About Bob having plenty, painful experiments made on him. About Love going crazy because Ross wasn’t there to calm him down…

His stomach squeezed again and he did a great effort to stop himself from puking. He put hand on his eyes, breathing in and out, in and out, in and out…

Ross heard the door opening and jolted up to see who entered. He saw two silhouettes, blinked and upon seeing a paper bag over one’s head he felt anger filling him.

“Flug?” he asked and straightened on the bed. “You fucking bitch” he snarled. “Where did you take me? Where’s the rest?!”

Both people exchanged looks and only then Ross noticed that paper bag-headed man doesn’t look like Flug. He was clothed way different, his bag looked old (it was ripped and fixed with a pink patch) and his goggles were gold, with white lenses. There was even lack of that silly airplane on his shirt, it was changed to a bird looking print.

“Wait” Ross made a pause, looking with confusion at the person looking so similar to Flug. “You're not him. W-who are you? Where am I?” Ross looked from the bagged man toward the other person. It was also a man, wearing a lab coat, with a clipboard for documents in his hands. Ross looked closer at his face, having the distant feeling he knows him, and sank in his place.

He knew this face, unusually softened by a smile. For Ross it looked extremely fake.

“Hello there” said the man. A doctor. One of these which “took care” of Ross when he was a child. He didn't know their names, always calling them “sir” or “ms.”

Ross shoot worried look toward the bagged man. He noticed slight flinch he made at that look, but the man stayed as unemotional as possible.

The doctor moved toward Ross a little, looking into documents with the same, small smile. Ross jumped, pressing his back into the wall.

“We didn't see each other for long time. How are you, boy?” the doctor asked with saccharine voice, stopping over Ross, leaning slightly onto him.

Ross felt his heart drop to his stomach and felt nauseous. He didn't dare to look away from the doctor.

“Well? Everyone want to know what was happening with you for all those years. I have many questions you need to answer.” The doctor smiled wider, making Ross take a harsh, shaky breath.

“I-” Ross tried to say something, but couldn't force himself to continue. The doctor sighed.

“It's okay, you're safe now. That demon won't find you.” It didn't sound like Ross was safe in any way. The doctor wanted to lean over him more, to put a reassuring touch over his shoulder, how probably the bagged man saw it.

Ross was alarmed. Before the doctor managed to touch him Ross pushed himself from the wall and kicked him as hard as possible. The doctor let out a yelp, flew few steps back and landed on the floor. The bagged man immediately jumped toward Ross, but then seemed to notice his distressed expression. He stopped between the disabled boy and the coughing doctor.

“Fucking- I told you he'll be dangerous!” snarled the doctor, looking at the bagged man.

“He's scared” said the bagged man, speaking for the first time. Ross noticed how… calming his voice was.

“Scared?! He just attacked me! That's it” the doctor stood up, brushing off his knees. “We need to take him back and pacify, right now.” Ross yelped at the idea of going back to where he ran from.

“You can't.” The bagged man was as calm as ever.

“Dawn won't stop me! He have no power over me!”

The bagged man sighed, probably the only sight of his annoyance. “But he have power in here. I'm not like him. Now, please, leave.”

The doctor stepped toward the bagged man and for a moment Ross thought he's going to punch the other. But the doctor huffed, grunted and turned on his heel. He left slamming the door behind him.

Ross didn't let himself relax.

The bagged man turned around, putting his hands up. “I won't hurt you” he reassured. “My name's Lin.”

Ross, somehow, believed him. “I-I'm Ross” he answered softly.

Lin. Even though he looked so similar to Flug he seemed… nicer. Better.

“I'll sit by your side” he said and Ross almost immediately nodded. He still kept observing other one's every move. “I'm Dawn Hat's henchman. Do you know who is he?”

Dawn Hat? Oh no…

Ross knew it was goody two-shoes brother of Love Hat. Love didn't exactly like him, from what Ross have noticed. Dawn was trying to take something from him since Ross could remember.

He nodded.

“Good. So you know you're safe now?”

At that Ross blinked. Once, twice, three times. “I was safe with Love” he said finally, slowly, touching his abused shoulder.

Lin seemed to think about something for few seconds. Black dots in lenses of his goggles flickered toward Ross’ hand and number tattooed on it. “Are you… sure about that?”

Ross went dumbfounded hearing that question. He felt confused, then angry. “Of course I'm sure about it, he's the one who saved me in the first place!” he yelled.

Lin considered that answer for a moment then nodded. “We know quite different version of this story.”

Ross kept silent, letting him continue with incredible expression on his face. Yeah? Surprise me - he was thinking.

“At the age of sixteen you were found by Love Hat in a highly protected facility for people with mental disorders” recited Lin. “He kidnaped you and changed your memories, so you thought it was a bad place. He made you fall in love with him, but in reality it all was a lie.” Lin’s eyes, stuck in Ross, were piercing.

But Ross laughed anyway. It was loud, harsh laugh, bouncing around the room. “In love with Love Hat?” Ross chuckled, putting a hand over his cheek. “Please, I’m not in love with him!”

Out of nowhere his conversation with Flug came to him. He decided to not think about that at this exact moment.

“And who told you all this bullshit anyway? The doctor who just was here? The one who tested so much medications on me I lost count? The one who was always first to punish me for insubordination?” Ross didn’t mention other things that this man did to him. “I ran from there on my own. And I will run from here if I have to” he snarled, his mood changing out of sudden.

Lin glared at him - his eyes still as piercing. Finally he nodded to something. “Yeah. I thought so. There are few missing parts of this story anyway.” He opened his dark jacket and took out something, handing it to Ross. “Dawn Hat thinks you got brainwashed but I’m not as naive as he is. I checked that facility second time, after he did. As well as your records. It all doesn’t match the story they told us, but my boss won’t back up that easily.”

“You’re his henchman, talk with him” said Ross with anger in his voice, observing little, metal disk he just got.

“If it only was that easy” sighed Lin. “He thinks it’s true because of Love Hat’s actions. That reminds me… I need to ask you what exactly happened when he found you?” Ross kept silent, making Lin sigh. “Do you want to get out of here? If yes then answer my question. How can I be sure he isn’t hurting you in any way?”

Ross looked up at Lin and met those still, reassuring eyes, hidden behind the goggles. He looked down again. “He took me from the street” started Ross, with small voice. “There… there were people in his mansion, these terrible things acting like zombies or something. He made them love him because he was lonely, but he said it’s hard to enchant me…”

Out of sudden Ross looked up again. Was this what the bagged man had on his mind saying about Love hurting him? That Love actually did it to him and lied?

“Do you think he may actually do it?” asked Lin.

It made Ross think for a moment. He felt… weird toward Love. Especially lately. But he didn’t feel like it was his fault. “No” he decided without hesitation. “I saw how these people acted. I know how does it feel. And I just, I just know he couldn’t do it.”

Lin was quiet for a moment. “What about the girl, Miki Ayers?”

“Lorencia?”

“Yes, alias Lorencia.”

“You really think she was brainwashed or something?” snorted Ross. “I was there when Love found her. She was alone in a hospital, not able to move a finger. If we did leave her there she would rot alone.”

Hearing that Lin stood up, nodding slightly. Ross observed closely how he took out a phone, checked the time and hid it again. “I’m late. Love Hat is in the basement. You’ll find Lorencia in one of the upper floors. The thing I gave you is a nanotech prosthetic leg. It’s a prototype but should work. If everything they told us about you was a lie, you’ll know how to use it.”

Ross looked at the disc and back at Lin. “What? Why did you give this to me, Dawn-”

“Dawn got himself into a difficult situation just to get Love Hat’s scepter. It was reckless and if I won’t do anything he may get hurt. Right now you’re my only help.”

“Your help?! You shut me down in here!”

For a moment Lin looked troubled but quickly hid it. “No. I’m helping you get out of here. When I leave you’re on your own. Be fast.”

“Uh, thank-”

Ross’ thanks were cut off by a strong blow, somewhere in the building. The room shook violently, almost knocking Lin down. And there was a high-pitched roar, piercing walls.

“What the-” snarled Lin. “I need to go. See you.”

Ross didn’t manage to answer before Lin rushed out of the room. There was another shake but Ross didn’t pay attention. He looked after other the man.

Lin left the door open.

#villainous #villainous au #lovestruck #ross tlina #dawn

[osylot]

Alright lads I finally finished that long cross country flight I’ve been trying to do for about a month now and I wanna tell y’all the dumbass shit that happened. Wasn’t gonna put it under a read more but I won’t make y’all suffer like I did, but I promise it’s a fun read and you can laugh at me.

So when I was preflighting in the morning before departing I realized I couldn’t close the pilot side door of my plane properly. The door looks like this (this isn’t my plane btw):

And when you close it that latch sticking straight up should automatically go halfway down so it stays closed (but isn’t locked). Well that bitch wouldn’t go down so I couldn’t keep the door closed, talked to the assistant chief flight instructor and after a few minutes of shimmying we found that if you jiggle the pin on the inside edge of the door it’ll sometimes close enough (sometimes). That was good enough for him and I’ve been trying to do this flight for a month, so I said “whatever” and took the plane anyway.

So I get to Illinois (it’s a 2.5 hour flight from here, btw) and get out to go to the FBO to get/pay for fuel and shit. Local dumbass here forgets to take my phone out of the plane but decides to take the key which isn’t necessary bc you just need it to start the engine and no one’s gonna steal my plane so might as well leave the key, but thank FUCK that I both took the key and forgot my phone.

Get inside, use the bathroom, realize I forgot my phone, go back out to the plane to get it. Try to open the passenger side door before remembering I locked it for the flight, which literally just means putting that inside latch all the way down. So I go to the pilot’s side, try to open the door which looks like this (this also isn’t my plane):

And I can’t get that outside latch to open at all either. So I try to look inside as best I can, and as it turns out that BITCH ASS DOOR THAT WOULDN’T CLOSE THAT MORNING DECIDED THAT THIS TIME INSTEAD OF JUST CLOSING, SHE’D LOCK HERSELF ALL THE WAY. And I can’t jiggle the pin because the door’s closed. So I go back to the FBO, grab the key, and try to use it in that keyhole because you’d really think that the key for the plane would unlock the locked plane door. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t. It’s just an additional lock. So I was only able to double-lock the plane. :). 

So I go back to the FBO, use their phone to call MY airport’s FBO (which didn’t work 3 times in a row) so they could transfer me to my flight school (ironically the assistant assistant chief flight instructor had me add the flight school’s number to my contacts just that morning, too bad my phone was locked inside the plane). My flight instructor is at the flight school thank god so I talk to him about what happened, he asks if I can open the baggage compartment (I could, using that key I remembered to take) so I could fold over the back seats, climb through the plane, and unlock the plane from the inside. Well, the baggage compartment door (and, therefore, the compartment itself) is about yea big:

Not a great scale especially with that tiny-ass text, but it’s a 15″ by 21″ door around waist-height so I can just barely fit my torso + knee through there to clamber inside. It’s meant to be able to be leaned into to store bags, not to hold a human being. I wish I had a photo of the space itself but it’s SMALL. So I get in, try to fold the back seats over but they DON’T and it’s at least 100˚ inside the plane and I’m claustrophobic and I’d probably get stuck trying to fit between the headrests and the roof of the plane. So I’m about to start panicking so I grab the tow bar we keep back there:

And I start trying to use that bad boy to reach from behind the back seats up to get that black lever by the window open:

And the tow bar isn’t all that long, but it’s just long enough. So after a solid 3 minutes of struggling, I manage to pop the passenger window open using that fucking tow bar and then I slither back out the baggage compartment door just to see a bunch of line service guys staring at me doing all this. So I go over to the now-open passenger window (which looks like this):

And jam my arm up into the plane and then immediately back down again to try to open the inside latch through the window. At this point a line guy walks over to figure out what’s happening and to offer his services (and by that, I mean he offered his long arm), but I manage to get to the latch and open the passenger door. So I get in, lean over, and the pilot door has the AUDACITY to open as smooth as butter from the inside. And I very nearly kick the plane. By this point I had been on the ground for at least 40 minutes and I was running WELL behind schedule and I still had to eat, pay for fuel, check in with my instructor again, check the weather, and try to calm down from the threat of being stranded in the dead-center of Illinois by my fucking self with a locked airplane and a hurt pride. But had I left the key I wouldn’t have been able to get the baggage compartment door open, and had I taken my phone I wouldn’t have gone back to get it and wouldn’t have realized the plane was locked until RIGHT before I had to depart again.

TL;DR My plane locked itself with my phone still inside while in Illinois but I remembered to take the key and due to both of those reasons I managed to get the plane back open in a somewhat timely manner, albeit in the most convoluted and uncomfortable way possible. Also I didn’t die. And the FBO gave me handwritten thank-you card for visiting them.

#aviation #long post #personal #Only tagging this with 'aviation' for my own organizing purposes #if anyone in that tag sees this I apologize #actually no one is gonna see this #none of y'all are gonna read this #I mean even if this is just me venting to the void I guess that's good enough #But you're missing out

[bisexualstokes-archive]

letswaitforme replied to your post “letswaitforme replied to your post: letswaitforme ...”

Omg I would fucking read that!!!! Hahaha I was going to say doesn’t nick get tortured like 94.5% of the time now

lol teenage MK wasn’t very creative with the whump though, most of it is just nick getting buried...again BUT i did find this fic that i’m skimming through real quick in which nick and greg are kidnapped together and damn...i might need to re-write it:

(LOTS OF NICK AND GREG WHUMP BELOW)

“Greg,” Nick answers to his own question. “Greg, can you move your hands? If you can, tap my shoulder once.”

Nick feels a tap on his shoulder.

“Ok, is there some kind of tape on my eyes to prevent me from seeing?”

Tap. Yes, there is. If he tells Greg to take it off, Nick might let out a yell or something if it is indeed duct tape. That yell might alert the kidnapper, wherever they are and therefore ruin any chance of fighting or escaping. He would need to do it himself...and with free hands.

He shifts his body around, feeling if he has anything in his pockets. He manages to dig in his back pockets and finds a pocket knife. Was this in his pocket before?

“Greg, help me out here,” Nick whispers to Greg as he fumbles with the knife. He feels Greg’s hands grasp his, assisting Nick in opening the knife and cutting the rope. Nick feels a small prick on his skin as Greg cuts the rope.

“Orry,” Greg says in his muffled voice.

Nick flinches slightly at the pain, but at least he can’t see it. His hands are released from their bonds and he braces himself for what he is about to do. He moves his hands to the edge of the tape and grimaces as he rips it off, biting his lower lip to prevent from screaming. Tears cloud up his eyes before he is able to regain his vision. He turns to face Greg, who has masking tape on his mouth, and his hands tied in front of him. He must have known that he would scream if he removed the tape, and refrained from doing so.

“Greg, c’mon man, you can do it. Just try not to scream,” Nick whispers to him as he cuts the bonds on his hands.

Greg shuts his eyes tight as he slowly moves his hands to his mouth. He starts to slowly remove the tape, pausing in moments of extreme pain.

Nick, however, is silently crawling in his surroundings. They are in some kind of empty space that is moving. Nick finds what looks like an airplane window. He opens it and confirms his assumption. They were in the air. They must be on some kind of private jet or something, because it’s pretty hard to sneak two unconscious bodies onto a plane these days.

He could hear Greg whimper as he bites his lower lip to prevent from screaming. Nick bends down to him and gives him a reassuring look.

(some time later)

He can barely move his body. He can pound his fists on the hard, durable Plexiglas that surrounds him on all sides, but nothing more. Green light illuminates the space, causing his body to radiate like the Hulk. He can see the dark material tinted with green on the outside of the glass. He can also hear faint whirring, like a small fan.

Flash.

Suddenly, a burst of light. The green is now only a subordinate, engulfed by the overpowering blank light. The whirring has stopped. The cool air emitting from the fan is now gone. Now, he can only feel the heat coming from the light. He can feel the warm drops of sweat bead down his face and can also see the glass above him condense.

Is the light timed? Or is someone controlling it? He wants to ask out loud, doubting but hoping he’ll get an answer. The message on the tape had said nothing about a light, let alone a fan.

His right hand rests on a gun. Even the harsh metal is starting to heat up, inviting him to release some of that heat. Would they find him if he pulls the trigger? Does it even matter?

Does anybody know he’s missing?

His finger twitches on the trigger. He pulls the barrel of the suddenly heavy gun to his chin. If the light turns off the fan, then the light will be eating up the battery. If the battery runs out, no more light and no more fan. No more fan means no more air. And no more air means no more life...

So why wait until the battery runs out? Breathe quick, breathe slow, anyway he likes, he’s going to die here. They aren’t going to find him. Not alive, anyway. The air will run out eventually. Nobody’s really going to care. He might as well do it now and save himself and everyone else the misery.

“Don’t do it,” comes a voice. A girl’s voice, like one of an angel.

Flash.

The flash illuminates the room. Though Nick cannot see where he is, he knows with extremely high confidence that he is sure as hell not in his premature grave anymore. The flash starts to fade away, and Nick can finally see.

The room is dark, and only one light illuminates the space other than the fading flash. A dim light bulb is built into the wooden panel of the wall left to him. The whole room has wooden panel and the floor is a brown shag carpet. Nick lies on top of a bare mattress, his body lying in an extremely uncomfortable position. His hands are tied above him, just like Greg’s were. Only, the rope does not wrap around his hands. There is a shackle locked on both of his wrists, which are rubbing against each other painfully against the rusty metal. Some kind of chain is attached to this bracelet in a way that would make it impossible to undo the chain. The chain turns into a tight rope after about three links, and proceeds into the ceiling. He tries to move his united hands and is successful in discovering that the rope is in some kind of pulley system. And like some pulley systems, when you stop pulling, the rope snaps back up.

This is exactly what happened when Nick released the pressure of pulling his hands to him. He grimaces in pain and looks morosely at his hands. He can also feel the slight burn from when the tape had been on his eyes. He remembers the tears forming slowly in his eyes after he ripped it off, and also remembers helping Greg...

Greg. Where is he? Nick remembers being in the cargo hold...

(later...or earlier)

Nick saved Greg the rest of the pain by ripping the rest of the tape off at once. Greg almost let out a scream, but Nick covered his mouth.

 “Calm down, Greg, calm down. Somebody might hear us and we might be in trouble,” Nick whispered to him in a calmed tone. He nods, making sure him and Greg are making eye contact. “Okay?”

Greg nodded up and down, almost acting as if Nick was the kidnapper, telling him what to do.

“Good,” Nick whispered back. He stood up again, the area around his eyes tingling with pain. He put his finger to his small incisions in this area and watched the blood transfer to his fingers. He twitched slightly, scowling at his injury. At least it was better than not having vision. He also checked his pockets for anything else that would help them, but found nothing. He picked up the pocket knife and held it in one hand, his fingers forming a ready position to reveal the knife and cut anybody who decided to attack him.

Greg was still huddled up, shaken by what he had just gone through. Nick twitched a smile at him, but there was no response from Greg.

Nick decided to sit by the door and wait for the assailants to come and either check on them or take them to another location. If he could act like his hands were tied behind his back, maybe they’ll just figure that Greg removed the tape from his mouth and the tape from Nick’s eyes. He quickly signaled Greg to act like his hands were tied still and then he quickly put his behind his back. Greg managed to make it look like he had stuck his hands in between his kneeling legs.

Nick doesn’t know how long they sat in silence. Greg seemed like he was still traumatized by this sudden tension-built situation and Nick was just trying to figure out why they were there and who did this to them.

Suddenly, he hears a click come from the outside of the door. Greg, who had looked up, gave Nick a look, and Nick nodded. Greg suddenly collapsed to the floor, acting like he was about to have a seizure by shaking his body as much as he could.

The door opened and Nick looked up to see a man in a blank white mask, but wearing casual clothing. The man had buzz cut black hair. He seems pretty strong, maybe a veteran solider. Nick suddenly had doubts about having to take this man on, but he would have to. The man started walking over to Greg cautiously, seeing the fake convulsion.

“He’s a diabetic. He needs his insulin,” Nick quickly said, making up the story on the spot. As the kidnapper walked over to Greg, Nick sprang up, brandishing the knife and threw a punch at the assailant’s head. The man quickly reacted and punched Nick back. Nick started to swipe the knife back and forth as the man kicked, punched, anything he could do. Greg tried to do something as well, but his energy level prevented him from doing much.

Suddenly, Nick felt another prick, but this time in his shoulder. He slowly turned to see another man, also in a white mask, brandishing a dart gun. Nick felt another punch and then a kick as he slowly dropped to the ground.

Nick suddenly feels the pain from the struggle, grimacing as his stomach curdled. He is suddenly hungry, and craves the taste of water, any kind of water.

Flash.

The flash almost blinds Nick, who wasn’t expecting the flash coming from the wall in front of him. He shut his eyes tight, just like they did in the box when the light turned on. When the flash starts to fade, he opens his eyes, still squinting. He notices the camera lens built into the wall and also the flash built on top of it. Someone is taking pictures of him.

“What kind of pervert are you?” Nick asks rhetorically. It’s the question he always asks when he arrives at a crime scene especially that of a dead child, young woman, torn up man, tied up animals, molested child, kidnapping that ended in murder, or a family murdered.

 Only this time, Nick’s the victim.

Flash.

(greg’s turn...later)

A wave of icy water causes Greg to wake up. He chokes on the liquid that had entered his nostrils and mouth. He tries to move, but can only turn his head slightly. He manages to move his hands, but they hit some kind of durable surface. He cannot move his feet, either. He can’t life his head up, but is able to look down as well as he can. His body is surrounded by glass walls. From shoulders down, Greg is in a box.

Drip.

 A droplet of water falls between Greg’s eyes, causing him to blink reflexively. He looks up, but cannot see the origin of the water. Another drop falls in the exact same spot, and Greg has the exact same reaction.

“Who’s doing this?” he yells. “Hello? Anybody!”

There is no answer, and he didn’t really expect one. More drips follow the first two, and then another big splash.

 This time, the ice water enters in any opening it can. His eyes, his ears, his nose, his mouth; all of them receive the taste of the icy tap water. He swallows the portion that swam into his mouth, unable to o much else. He blinks his eyes repeatedly and shakes the water out of his ears as much as he can. He coughs up a little of it, his body slowly become numb. He feels very drowsy, as if he could fall asleep, but he can’t. The drops of water prevent him from falling asleep, waking him up with every attempt of falling into slumber. And then it hits him like a bullet from a loaded gun.

The water is drugged.

#letswaitforme #replies #nick x greg #COULDN'T TELL YOU WHAT I WAS DOING WITH THIS FIC #CAUSE THAT'S PRETTY MUCH ALL I GOT! #(well the rest of it was scenes with the OC and rest of the team) #I'm guessing i wrote this during season 10?? #my fic #(from 2010 lmao)

[kuliru]

(1) Do You Sleep With Your Closet Doors Open Or Closed?

Don’t have a closet. I’m poor

(2) Do You Have Freckles?

I’m Asian. Does that answer the question?

(3) Can You Whistle?

Sadly not

(4) Last Song You Listened To.

Awaken - Stray Kids. Stan them or fat 🤬

(5) What Is Your Favourite Colour?

Currently dirty yellow green

(6) Relationship Status.

Taken by at least 150 boys that do not exist

(7) What Is The Temperature Right Now?

28°C. This is considered VERY low here. Normally it’s a fucking oven in here — 33°C

(8) Did You Wake Up Cranky?

I have never woken up peaceful in my entire life

(9) How Many Followers?

381

(10) Zodiac Sign.

The sexual position. Cancer ♋️ 💛

(11) What Is Your Eye Colour?

💩

(12) Take A Vitamin Daily?

I’m not 6 🤬

(13) Do You Sing In The Shower?

Stopped ever since I became a teen #puberty

(14) What Books Are You Reading?

I only read manga

(15) Grab The Book Nearest To You, Turn To Page 64, Give Me Line 14.

I want to die

(16) Favourite Anime?

HUNTER X HUNTER BITCH

(17) Last Person You Cried In Front Of?

Crying? What’s that?

(18) Do You Collect Anything?

Screenshots. Specifically shirtless anime boys 💦🥵

(19) What Did You Have For Lunch?

I starve myself #RoadToAnorexia

(20) Do You Dance In The Car?

Only on my dad’s yacht and private jet

(21) Favourite Animal?

Me

(22) Do You Watch The Olympics?

Only Hentai

(23) What Time Do You Usually Go To Bed?

0230

(24) Are You Wearing Makeup Right Now?

No

(25) Do You Prefer To Swim In A Pool Or The Ocean?

Hate swimming. I get tan so easily. I’d die for pale skin

(26) Favourite Tumblr Blog?

Mine obviously is this even a question

(27) Bottled Water Or Tap Water?

Tap. Because it might not be clean and I can get sick and not live as long cause I hate living and want to die

(28) What Makes You Happy?

Hentai. Next.

(29) Post A Gif Of What You’re Currently Feeling Right Now.

(30) Do You Study Better With Or Without Music?

Study? What’s that?

(31) Dogs Or Cats?

Both. But I like dogs slightly more ...

(32) If You Were A Crayon What Colour Would You Be?

Only the wrapper cause I’m not straight

(33) PlayStation Or Xbox.

Hentai

(34) Would You Swim In The Lake Or Ocean?

Cum

(35) Do You Believe In Magic?

No lemao

(36) What Colour Shirt Are You Wearing?

Naked rn

(37) Can You Curl Your Tongue?

Sadly

(38) Do You Save Money Or Spend It?

ALWAYS SPEND IT THE MOMENT I RECEIVE IT 🤮 sucks to be rich

(39) Is There Anything Pink Within 10 Feet Of You?

Pussy flesh

(40) Do You Have Any Obsessions Right Now?

Sadly not

(41) Have You Ever Caught A Butterfly?

Sadly not. But I’ve caught lizards and moths call me Steve Irwin

(42) Are You Easily Influenced By Other People?

Surprisingly no

(43) Do You Have Strange Dreams?

Very.

(44) Do You Like Going On Airplanes?

I’m neutral about them. But one time. I was sick and rode on an airplane. MY EARS WERE FUCKING DYING. IT FELT LIKE MY EARDRUMS WERE BEING STABBED AND THE KNIFE WAS STUCK THERE and EVERYTHING HURT. Thank god the flight was only an hour. Cause the next one I had was 14 hours and by then my cold was gone

(45) Name One Movie That Made You Cry.

Your Name obviously. Oh and also the sad WW2 movies from Studio Ghibli

(46) Peanuts Or Sunflower Seeds?

None ew.

(47) If I Handed You A Concert Ticket Right Now, Who Would You Want The Performer To Be?

N C FUCKNG T BITCHES

(48) Are You A Picky Eater?

Surprisingly not

(49) Are You A Heavy Sleeper?

FUCKING. I need at least 10 hours of sleep or else I can’t get through the day

(50) Do You Fear Thunder / Lightning?

Neither

(51) Do You Like To Read / Write?

Read manga, which, are Japanese mangoes for those of you uncultured swines

(52) Do You Like Your Music Loud?

Only moaning. Next question

(53) Would You Rather Carve Pumpkins Or Wrap Presents?

None I have servants for a reason

(54) Put Your Music On Shuffle, What Is The First Song That Came Up?

Crown by TXT my phone knows me so well <3

(55) What Season Are You In Right Now? (Weather)

It’s always summer here #BoringWeatherMuch

(56) What Are You Craving Right Now?

Cock

(57) Post A Screenshot Of Your Tumblr Feed.

(58) What Is Your Gender?

Unspecified. Ok but fr female

(59) Coffee Or Tea?

T

(60) Do You Have Any Homework Right Now? If So, What Is It About?

Never had homework ever since Oct 2018. It’s Mar 2019 now lol

(61) What Is Your Sexuality?

Straight as FUCK

(62) Do You Make Your Bed In The Morning?

Look at question 53 cunt

(63) Favourite Pokemon?

You

(64) Favourite Social Media?

Tied between ig and tumblr. Wait no. Tumblr

(65) What’s Your Opinion On Instagram Stories?

Better than sc ngl although sc started it

(66) Do You Get Homesick?

Nope

(67) Are You A Virgin?

You’re asking one rn good job

(68) What Shampoo And Conditioner Are You Using Right Now?

This is so weird.. even I don’t know... and I’ve been using the same product for months.. wait I’ve recalled it now. Both are dove

(69) If You Were Far From Home And Needed To Sleep For The Night, Would You Choose To Rent A Crappy Motel Room For $60 Or Sleep In Your Car For Free?

Car for free duh

(70) Are Both Of Your Blood Parents Still In Your Life?

Parents? What’s that?

(71) Whats The Next Movie You Want To See In Theaters?

Seeing 5 ft apart on Friday what I have a life????

(72) Do You Miss Your Ex?

Only sex sike

(73) What Is Your Favourite Quote Right Now?

Fuck I don’t have one and can’t come up with one.. uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh... when Kakashi said you’re more than scum if you leave your friends behind. Cried like a bitch

(74)  What Eye Colour Do You Find Sexiest?

White

(75) Did You Like Swinging As A Child? Do You Still Get Excited When You See A Swing Set?

Duh who hasn’t

(76) What Was The Last Thing You Ate?

Air

(77) What Games Do You Have On Your Phone?

What am I.. 11?

(78) Would You Give A Homeless Person CPR If They Were Dying? Why Or Why Not?

No. Herpes

(79) Been On The Computer For 5 Hours Straight?

No but I’ve been on it gay

(80) Stalked Someone On A Social Network?

WHO HASN’T WTF

(81) Do You Like Meeting New People?

No. Hate socialising. I only need my body pillows in life

(82) Do You Wear Rings? If You Do, Take A Picture Of Them.

Nope but I wear a dog leash

(83) Do You Sleep With Your Bedroom Door Open Or Closed?

Agap

(84) What Are Three Things You Did Today?

1. Starved 2. Shat 3. Do this

(85) What Do You Wear To Bed?

Nothing. I can’t afford clothes

(86) List All Of Your Different Beauty Products You Have Right Now.

I don’t need beauty products when I’m already a beauty myself

(87) Are You A Day Or Night Person?

Night

(88) List All Of Your Video Games On Your Phone, Console Etc.

Lazy. But my absolute fave is walking dead

(89) Tell Me About A Dream That You Had And When It Happened.

My mom left and she said to never answer the door and someone knocked on the door. She was standing there with demonic eyes and I was like “lmao”. Then I left that ‘person’ at the door and she kept scratching and banging the door that I went to the peephole again and it transformed to a bald man. He then started writing me a birthday card when my birthday is literally 3 months away and wishing me the best in life.

(90) Favourite Soda Drink?

I’m vegan

(91) What Sounds Are Your Favourite?

Giant tortoises mating

(92) Do You Wear Jeans Or Sweats More?

Gowns

(93) How Do You Look Right Now?

Born hideous lmao

(94) Name Something That Relaxes You.

Hentai jfc how many times must I repeat myself

(95) What Tattoo Do You Want?

A tattoo of your math grade <3

(96) Favourite YouTuber?

Ondo. Love that bitch

#get to know me