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hauntedwitch04 · 2 years

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Thin jacket in October

🎃Halloween party🎃

Steve Harrington x reader

Words: about 1k words

Warning: none, just pure fluff and our lovely Stevie

Author’s note: Here my first da of my Halloween party. I know that I’m late, just decided to do this special at the last second. Hope you like this, I know it’s note my best work. With love, your Becky<33

✒️: “You can’t go out with such a thin jacket in October, you gonna get a cold!”

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You couldn't believe you could feel that cold already in early October, yet there you were. You had left the house in a hurry, remembering that you had to pick up your sister Max from the D&D game at the last minute. After weeks and weeks of psychological pressure from Dustin, your sister had finally decided to participate in a flash campaign that was going to take place just today, to see if she liked it. She had made you promise that if she didn't like it she would call you and you would pick her up right away, no matter the excuse or whatever, and all you could do was say yes, but apparently she must have liked it if there was no distress call. This whole thing, however, leads you to now be in the car, freezing, just wearing a sweater, waiting for them to come out. You are immersed in your thoughts and you don't notice that someone is next to the window of your car , until that person knocks gently. You turn jerkily with your heart racing, thinking it might be who knows who, finding instead only a wild Steve Harrington smiling faintly at you. You smile back at him and get out of the car, to greet him.

When you first came to Hawkings and heard about the great Steve Harrington, you thought he was the usual school bully, with rich but absent parents, and who enjoyed talking back to professors and getting bad grades, and he probably was too, and in part still is sadly so since his parents are so present that he could be compared to an orphan. Something changed, however, on that fateful night when you killed the demogos: you, him, and a gang of twelve-year-old boys. That night you discovered a different Steve, and almost magically, you couldn't help but become friends. At first Billy wasn't too happy about your friendship, but seeing how good it made you feel, he decided to turn a blind eye to the fact that it was Harrington, all because he loved you.

Since his father left home, after betraying your mother, he had decided to stay with you and help you, doing what he could and becoming the man of the house. Now the atmosphere in the family is definitely better, and everything seems to be going well.

Well, everything except your love life, since it seems that the one guy you are interested in sees you as nothing more than a friend. Billy and Max often tease you about your obvious crush on Steve, which instead of disappearing over the years as you had hoped, had done nothing but grow.

"Hey, if you had told me, I would have given Max a ride, too, as well as Dustin." Steve says, leaning against your car next to you. You blush at the closeness, and suddenly the cold seems to go away as you hope he doesn't notice given the darkness surrounding you.

"I didn't want to bother you, and besides I was glad to pick her up, you know the first time she's coming to one of these things and she'll be super excited to tell me all about it." You say rolling your eyes, but smiling because deep down you like to see her so happy, since with all the things that have happened at Hawkings recently, and Billy's near death last year, it has shaken her deeply.

"No problem, I'm more than happy to take her home. It's better than being Henderson's taxi driver, I really can't stand that guy anymore: first babysitter now chauffer." You burst out laughing at his words, and he seems to smile even more at the sound of your laughter.

"There's nothing to laugh about, I've become like a second mother to those children now, it's heartbreaking." The boy continues chuckling.

"You say that as if you don't like it." You chuckle teasing him.

"Don't say it too loud, they might hear you." He whispers in your ear, and you can't help but flinch in goosebumps and shivers from that gesture, continuing to giggle. Steve stops and looks at you for a moment, then takes off his jacket and hands it to you. You look at him with a question mark drawn on your face.

“You can’t go out with such a thin jacket in October, you gonna get a cold!” Says Steve with a serious look as he puts the jacket over your shoulders. Your heart warms at his gesture, thinking how a boy who has always suffered so much can still be so sweet and selfless, but your thoughts are interrupted by your sister's voice calling you.

"Y/N! You won't believe it! I won, my first game and I won!" She shouts happily. Seeing her smile, you can't help but smile too.

"You did great then, so good that next time I think Dusty-bun won't invite you to play." I say, casting a wink at the boy behind her, who is evidently sulking.

"There's no point in picking on me with that nickname, because until proven otherwise the one who was flirting with Steve until two seconds ago was you my dear." He says as he approaches his friend's car. Steve and I quickly walk away, embarrassed, and say a quick goodbye making stupid excuses like having to run away because they were waiting for us.

As you get into the car you realize you still have his jacket on, so you make to twist it off and he immediately stops you.

"You keep it. It looks much better on you than it did on me anyway." He says, giving you a wink. You get into the car as you feel your cheeks get hot.

"I told Eddie he doesn't stand a chance. Your heart belongs to Steve." Max says mocking you as you throw a punch at her, intimating her to shut up.

"If after what I've seen, he doesn't ask you out by next week, Billy and I are authorized to beat him up." She continues, and you can't help but smile, continuing to think about the boy who stole your heart.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #becky's halloween party

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marleybone-dreaming · 2 years

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Meet my Death wiz, Marissa Nightshade!

Marissa is my highest level Wizard at 56 and the first one I created (that I ended up keeping... RIP Roslyn Wintergarden and Anna)

The pictures of her with the coat and red boots are her main outfit, while the pictures of her with the dress are of the last outfit she had before that and the one I chose to give her as her main game-based outfit.

In my drawings, like with Genevieve, I also gave her 2 outfits: A main one based off of what she's wearing in-game, and another one based off of an outfit I put together in The Sims.

Character info and origin story below the cut.

Marissa is 21 right now and is bi, and she loves all things creepy and dark- but don't let her edgy, cold exterior fool you, she's actually really sweet.

Marissa, originally from Wysteria, started attending Ravenwood at the latest age she could be accepted, as prior to this she had gone to a traditional school and was actually training to be a veterinarian- but when she had to help the vet whose office she was working at get the medicine to put a pegasus down she realized she'd have to do that too and she couldn't bear the thought of seeing the animals in that much pain or dying. On her way out after quitting her job at the vet clinic she saw a group of Pigswick Academy students playing around with spells and she thought it looked really cool. She applied for Pigswick right away, but their admission criteria required her to have taken certain classes in her regular studies- which she didn't, but luckily Ravenwood didn't have those same requirements, so she applied and was accepted there. She liked it here better anyway, as she adored the look of the Haunted Cave and Nightside. Death Magic came naturally to her, but her secondary classes didn't really come as easily. She happened to come in one day on the weekend to make up an exam for Storm class and she met Genevieve there, practicing with Professor Balestrom. The two hit it off and soon became friends, and they stayed friends even when Genevieve moved to Marleybone- where Marissa would often visit her once Headmaster Ambrose sent her to Marleybone to assist with problems there. She was so happy for her when she met Bentley- and she's scheduled to be the maid of honor at their wedding.

Because Marissa liked spending so much time in the Haunted Cave, practicing her Death magic here because the vibes just felt right to her, she met Nosferabbit. They connected over their admiration of the macabre and gothic aesthetics, and Marissa especially thought being friends with a vampire was awesome.

When Marissa was tasked to deal with Dr. Jackall she wandered into a random room and met Billy the Cutter. She thought he was beautiful- she managed to talk him out of fighting her, but after dealing with Dr. Jackall, Marissa started going back again and again so she'd have an excuse to see Billy. He didn't really get why but he didn't mind the company- finally, someone wanted to talk to him who wasn't either just trying to suck up to him or order him around!

But eventually when they became close enough, Billy would drop a bombshell that Marissa wasn't expecting: he came out to her as gay. Marissa was stunned, and was glad that he felt comfortable enough around her to tell her a secret he'd been keeping, but was still kind of disappointed because she wanted to date him. But then she remembered something else... Nosferabbit was openly gay, and so she decided to set the two up. They would, of course, hit it off and start dating.

#marissa nightshade #wizard101 #w101 #wizzy fandom

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talkingwithghosts555 · 2 months

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The Cycle of the Divide of People-Conversation with Tupac Shakur

I met Tupac back in 2015 when I first started channeling. I think he was my second or third ghost that I talked to, and he’s stayed my friend. I love his energy. I love his…no bullshit attitude. He’s an amazing energy to connect to. My nickname or the name that he put in my brain for him a couple years back is Chewy. He likes to be called Chewy by me. I’m not sure if that was something when he lived or what but now that’s all I ever call him. Here is my chat with Tupac Shakur.

K: Hey Chewy. What’s up?

T: Miss. Kim. Miss. Kim. How you doin’, girl. It’s been a while.

K: As if. (It’s a game we play. I try to get his words spelled like he says them and he knows it’s difficult for me to try to put his personality down “on paper”)

T: It’s a relative thing. For me to stay relative, I gotta talk like it’s relative and I ain’t talkin’ science. I’m talkin’ bein’ understood.

K: The way you have me typing out your words…good luck with that.

T: Hey, yo. It’s me. I gotta tell ya…(rubbing his hands together and thinking while he’s sitting) it’s been quiet up here. Eerily so. Where’ve you been?

K: Hiatus. Learning, evolving, being attacked by dogs. You know, the norm.

T: I hope you’re kiddin’. (concerned)

K: No. I’m not. You didn’t hear?

T: I did not but I’m sorry to. How you feelin’?”

K: I’m feeling okay. It’s a process but I’m working through it. I have some extra help…if you know what I’m talking about. (wink wink nudge nudge)

T: Yeah. Absolutely. You look good.

K: Thanks. You look the same.

T: (laughs) I got the image to uphold.

K: Of course you do. What’s up? What’s happening? Do you have something you want to chat about?

T: Yo…things are crazy out there.

K: Tell me.

T: I remember I first came to you and talked about race. Remember that?

K: Yes. I remember it like it was yesterday.

T: (rubs his chin then shakes his head) Now…it’s past that while including that. You talked to Marcus about spiritual warfare.

K: Well, I just channeled a message from him. I didn’t talk with him about it.

T: It’s real, right now. The black and white…(moves his hand to either side like the words stay there) it’s an issue. For real. There are more issues there now, depending on where your heritage lies but the spiritual vs. the spiritual and the spiritual vs. the religion and the religion vs. the science of it all. It’s crazy to me how deep the divide is because if we just talkin’ about color or if we just talkin’ about race, it’s like that’s just the surface of where it all stems from.

K: The amount I’m learning about Atlantis…Lemuria. Now I’m hearing rumor there was a war between them but I don’t feel that’s accurate. I know they lived on the planet for a time…together.

T: Yeah, they did. And no, it wasn’t a war that you would think it would be…the stuff that you’re used to hearing about. The war really started when Atlantis took the control and took the power away from the Lemurians that made it to Atlantis when their world gave up.

K: Interesting.

T: Consider something for, like a minute.

K: I got time.

T: Race…spirit…gender…the divide started in Atlantis and then consider that it’s been a cycle…ever since.

K: It is pretty crazy and the fact that you’ve come in to really open my eyes to that is insane. Because…Ireland and I were listening to Billie Holiday the other evening.

T: Yeah. Great woman. She’s an amazing woman.

K: Do you know her?

T: I’ve sat with her a lot of times. I consider her a great friend.

K: That’s cool. I will admit…the ignorant me…slaves…the black vs. white, the white holding control…I believed it was a more recent issue.

T: Yeah. (nods)

K: But it really isn’t. The more I take a deep dive into my existence with my family in Atlantis, the more I realize that the divide and the cycle is ages and eons old but, like, how are we to bring that to the surface…bring it to the light to finally end that cycle?

T: The first step is to give some understanding to how old the issue is. But how a person knows that this issue is rising to the surface, is seeing how many different types of race or color or identities there are. You see a cycle coming up to be ended the more differences are being explored; the more people are feelin’ like…hey…I’m not like everyone else. I really identify as this and this is me.

K: I totally get that. I’m a very accepting person and as long as people aren’t hurting others, if they live their lives the way that promotes freedom and individuality while respecting the world around them, I’m okay. Nothing really fazes me anymore. I wish for people to live in the freedom of who they are because I feel that would bring an immense energy of what people feel is heaven on earth.

T: Yeah. (nods)

K: But the more people identify with their truth or the truth of their identity…I feel the more of a…divide there tends to be because there is so much that is new and not exactly understood.

T: To add to what you’re sayin’…you got people identifyin’ as this and that…it’s very futuristic. And then you got people grounded to their roots…their ancestry…their homelands…where they originate from and where they were stolen from. So, on top of…let’s say gender…very futuristic…

K: Okay.

T: You got race which is very very historical.

K: Yes.

T: Not only does the divide between left and right occur but the divide between the sky and ground occurs and then you have the people that can only see the linear and then you got the people that can see all around so the divide isn’t up and down or side to side anymore. It exists within that spiral of life that y’all talkin’ about a few years back.

K: Dear! God!

T: So now you got the divide in the spiral and that spiral is going everywhere real fast.

K: Not good.

T: It’s what it is. It’s called chaos. But the power of a people, is that whether they know it or not…they like those billy goats. People are sure footed. They can stay grounded and not get caught up in the storms of the others that are still learning to walk.

K: Then what’s the missing ingredient that have some people just staying as observers and holding everything down while others are getting swept up in the spirals of currents that is energy trying to work itself out.

T: Connection.

K: Connection?

T: Yeah. You can have people shout on the soapbox of who they are and who they want to be seen as and how they’re angry about it…you know…how it’s not…this is me and you are all welcome here. It’s more like…this is me and I’ll defend it because I feel your anger about it which makes me angry because I should be accepted no matter what. That’s not connection to a higher source. That’s not connection to a soul. That’s a connection to the reaction of people or a society outside of yourself that you need to validate who you are in any part of your life.

K: Whoa That’s huge.

T: Same with the spiritual. If a person is in a community where it’s angry and stubborn and this is the way to be in this light…that’s not connection. That’s still requiring some sort of validation to prove to them that they are spiritual. This divide…I’m gonna call it the Atlantean Divide…is in everything. Because it’s missing the connection.

K: Then how do we connect so that we welcome instead of fight what’s fighting us out of ignorance or being closed off? And by us I mean society.

T: The first part of connection is not God or heaven or spirit. The first part of that connection y’all crave is inside you first. (points to me) Because a higher power isn’t outside of anything. Everything contains that within so you gotta connect to yourself first and then you gotta connect to the world that you decided to live on instead of wishing you were somewhere else. So first (points on his fingers) it’s you as a person of God. Second, it’s the ground…the planet you live with. Third, is with the spirit…the heaven that everyone wants to be seen by or connect to or talk to. That’s easy. We all exist together. But if you aren’t connecting to yourself first, there’s nothin’ to ground heaven to. That’s when you get people believin’ it’s a fake existence. Hey, yo, that’s my home. Don’t be dissin’ my home like you do.

K: (laughing) Are you talking to someone specific?

T: I’m talkin’ to lots of specifics. Oh, and another thing. I ain’t alive. I’m not livin’ in Cuba. I’m not livin’ in another State. I’m here…with God.

K: Got it. Thanks for that…I guess. Is there a fourth?

T: The fourth is the spiral of the first three and that’s connecting with others like you’re connecting with the first three. Once that’s down…the divide shrinks and is no more.

K: The theory of it is simple.

T: It’s very simple.

K: You know what…talk like that before you got a bullet in you.

T: (chuckles) Took a bullet for me to realize what’s really goin’ on.

K: No kidding. So...I have a scary question.

T: Sure.

K: If Atlantis happens again and we’ve created those spirals…do the spirals stay or do we start from scratch?

T: They stay. They stay ‘til they get worked out and there is an opportunity to do that now and there is help for this stuff right now. I guess that’s why they gone and dragged you back here, kickin’ ‘n ‘screamin’.

K: There was no kicking and screaming. There was none of that. There was an easy…slide and fit.

T: Yeah…right. Slide ‘n fit.

K: Dude! Trauma!

T: (laughs) Had to happen for the slide ‘n fit.

K: I have come to understand that.

T: I missed you, girl.

K: Missed you too. Come back any time but I need coffee so I’m going to get that coffee.

T: Isn’t that the pattern when…this all…

K: Yes. That cycle will never stop.

T: Cool. I liked you then, I like you now.

K: Same. I like you too. You’re alright.

T: Love ya, Miss. Kim.

K: Love you, Chewy. See you later.

T: Out.

Gone.

#tupac shakur #spiritual journey #spiritual growth #spirituality #talking with ghosts #channeling #channeling spirit #new age #mediumship #psychic #intuition #automatic writing #message from spirit #mediumshipr eadings #channeled messages #messages from heaven

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theshelbyclan · 3 years

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Castle in the Sky

Summary: You’re the daydreaming sibling of the Shelby’s, but when the adventure spills over into real life, it’s not as great as you’d imagined

(Gif by @nofckingfighting) A/N: A sweet anon requested: can I have request please Something like this Tommy was very protective over y/n and she gets hurt by one of the bad guys and sees blood on her face now all bruised but Tommy wants revenge Omg if you do so thank you so much for my request! ❤️ Huge fan of your works!This is set around season 1, back in the good old days when the only real enemy was Billy Kimber, remember those days? So easy… anyways, hope you like it J Words: 2933 ***

You were only nine when you started as a bookie’s runner for the Peaky Blinders. Nothing about this was special, half the kids of Small Heath worked for them, but there was just one difference: the Shelby’s were your brothers. It was a good job in many ways, because it meant not only being able to help your brothers, but people were inclined to give you a bit extra, just for being a Shelby. You imagined they thought it good luck.

“Y/N, take this to the other side of town, will you?” Tommy requested as he sat hunched over a newspaper. You protested a little, “Why me? I’ve done all of mine for today…” “This one’s extra, alright?” “Who is it?” you could never hide your inquisitive nature. But you only showed it around your brothers; to the rest of the world you were just quiet and practically invisible. He smirked slightly, “Someone who’ll pay up big. That’s why I need you to do it. Can’t trust any of the other kids not to steal…” “I have some homework to do, Tommy.” At thirteen, you were still at school, which was a minor miracle in Birmingham. “Tell you what: if you just do this one job, I’ll get you magazine you’ve been talking about, eh?” now he looked up and met your eyes. “Book, Tommy,” you smiled, “You might have heard of the concept? It’s a little like a magazine, a little like that newspaper, but with more pages? Some find it challenging, but once you get used to it…” “Alright, little miss know-it-all,” he grumbled without malice, “Go on, take the slip, make sure he bets all. Off with you. Stop outsmarting your old brother, eh?” He winked to make sure you were comfortable and you returned it with a big grin. “Where?” “Digbeth,” Tommy’s nose was back in the newspaper, “behind the Golden Dragon.” ***

As you were walking through the streets of Small Heath on your way to Digbeth, you were daydreaming. In a way it was strange just how different you were from your brothers, because the entire Shelby clan was very realistic, trying to make their way in this hard world, where you would rather pretend all day you were the main character in some story. The books you read, it was all an escape to you. So while you were walking, the people and factories disappeared. In your head, you were walking through the woods, on a secret mission that your king gave you. With the top-priority letter in your pocket, you remembered what he’d told you before you left: “If you get caught, eat the letter. If they capture you, make sure to be brave and never divulge its contents to anyone. And if all else fails, you must make the ultimate sacrifice. But remember, you have to memorize the contents of the letter first…” Wouldn’t it just be easier to memorize it now and destroy the letter immediately? You pondered on the matter… In the distance, you could see the mountains and the towers of another kingdom, and you knew your enemies were near. Without anyone noticing, you put a hand to your pocket and could feel the reassuring rustling of paper underneath your fingers: the letter was still there. If it would come to a fight, how would you go about it? If there were just one man, the small dagger in your boots would suffice. If it were two, you’d distract one, maybe by throwing the veil you were wearing, quickly turning around to kill the other and then back to the first one before he had time to recover. If there were more than three, you’d run, because you were the fastest after all. You’d get to higher ground and attack them from there, like a deadly shadow they could never see coming. As you smiled to yourself, you left the daydream for a short moment. You looked down and saw the muddy shoes you were wearing, marching through Birmingham mud. In the distance, all you saw was smoke and factory pipes. But it was honestly all you needed: your imagination did the rest. The real world barged in when you delivered the slip in Digbeth. Everything went smoothly at first. Your big brown eyes persuaded him to indeed bet big, and you were quite satisfied with yourself, knowing Tommy would be too. But you still had to walk back with a lot of money now in your pocket.

*** Almost home, there were only a few streets to go. Your head was back in the clouds and this time you were imagining you were a spy during the war. Silently, you moved through the streets, making yourself invisible and pretending every man wearing a hat was the enemy. So each time you saw one, you changed directions or hid for a second. It was a fun game, until you realised the enemy wasn’t wearing a hat. “Now, what’s a pretty girl like you doing on the streets, all by herself?” A man with a heavy Cockney accent popped up next to you and your heart nearly jumped out of your chest. You opened your mouth to reply, but no words came out. In your dreams, you always knew what to say, but in reality it wasn’t so easy. The man approached you and you noticed he’d cut you off from your one exit out of the alley, “It’s Y/N Shelby, isn’t it,” he grinned. “No,” you managed to say, “you got the wrong girl.” He grinned again, “Nice try, sweetheart. We’ve seen you at the Garrison. They don’t allow little girls at the pub, unless they’re a Shelby.” This was all true. You felt your hands getting clammy. “Tommy sent you, didn’t he?” Again, you tried to remember what the hero in your stories would do. She’d run, climb the building and then throw a knife right between the eyes of the man. Or she’d say something clever, just to distract him, and then turn around and escape when he least expected it. He took another few steps forward and you could smell him now, a smell of strange smoke and the river, “Do you know who I am?” Nailed to the ground, you shook your head. “I work for Mr. Billy Kimber. Ever heard of him?” You turned to see if you could escape, but then realised the other side of the alley was blocked by two more men. Neither of them were wearing hats. Cold sweat of fear ran down your back. The man in front of you started laughing, “There’s no running, sweetheart. Just give it to me.” At once you realised he was referring to the money in your pocket, but for Tommy’s sake, you wanted at least to try to be brave, “I don’t have anything.” He sighed, “Don’t play with me. I’m not the kind of man to play with, and neither is Mr. Kimber,” his voice was suddenly low and menacing, “Your brother thought he could, thought he would get away with fixing a race, he did, and now he’s going to be put against the post and shot. Don’t think I won’t do the same to you.” You gulped, but still thought of Tommy’s disappointment in you when he would find out you’d been a coward. So you took a deep breath and said softly, “It’s not yours. This money is ours. You can tell Mr. Kimber to go fuck himself!” It didn’t come out as strongly as you’d hoped. Like a crack of thunder, he swiftly slapped you across the face with the back of his hand. All the air was knocked out of your lungs in a second and you stood gasping for air, as you felt some blood trickling down your chin. “Give me the money,” he demanded again. And then, like your heroes, you pretended to reach for it in your pocket. Suddenly, you turned around and started running into the other direction, hoping to slip past the two men before they could stop you. But it didn’t work. One grabbed your arm and when you tried to push him away, he punched you hard. All strength left you in an instant. The second one started fumbling in your pockets and instinctively you kicked him, which earned you another blow to the head. More punches followed and your head was spinning. As you looked up to the sky, you remembered wanting to get back home, to your castle, where all was well and safe. In the end, they left you on the ground and the money was gone. Your last thought was: Tommy is going to be so embarrassed.

*** “Y/N?” You opened your eyes, but couldn’t see for a moment. “Y/N,” the familiar voice repeated, “Come on, yes, let’s get you home. Polly, Polly will know what to do, yes…” Strong arms lifted you up and rocking with his familiar limp, Curly carried you back to Watery Lane. When he’d taken you into the kitchen, Aunt Polly flew to your side in seconds, asking, “What’s happened?” Uncertainly, Curly explained and as he did, he started to become upset over your state. That’s when Tommy came in and started to calm him, while keeping an eye on you all the time. “Sweetheart,” Aunt Polly had taken a cold cloth to the cut in your lip, “Wake up… Come back to us…” Again you tried opening you eyes and you finally managed this time. But all your concern was with Curly, who was still anxiously fidgeting with his cap in hand. “Don’t worry, Curly,” you croaked, “I’m alright now. You did good, carrying me here.” “Polly will know what to do…” he kept on repeating. Tommy put a hand on his shoulder and it had an immediate calming effect, “It’s alright, Curly, go back to Charlie, eh? We’ll take care of her now.” Before he left, you said to him, “Curly? I’ll stop by tomorrow, see about that beautiful horse of yours, alright?” That put an immediate smile on his face, “Yes, she’s a beauty, alright… And she needs her princess to ride her! Back to that castle in the sky…yes…” When he’d gone, you lowered your head again and sighed deeply. Carefully, you felt your face and only then realised how awful you must look. “Who did this,” Tommy demanded at once. Polly glared daggers at him, “You did, I presume?” “Me?” “I told you again and again not to use the little ones to run errands. Sending them across half of Birmingham with money in their pockets, and look what happens!” For a moment, Tommy seemed to be speechless. Then he protested, “They’re invisible, Pol. Nobody knows they’re carrying anything.” “This one did,” you interjected, “because he knew who I was.” “How?” “Said he was with Kimber,” you whispered as the memories came back to you, “said he’d put me up against a post and he’d shoot me, like he’d do with you…” In a sudden fit of rage, Tommy grabbed a chair and flung it across the room. Polly snarled at the gesture and then turned to you, “Stay here. This cloth is cold, keep it against your eye, or it’ll turn black in half an hour, and I can’t take you to church looking like that. I just need to have a word with your brother.” You took the cloth and didn’t dare to look at Tommy, who was now being taken away by his aunt like he was ten years old again and in trouble. Aunt Polly closed the door behind her, but you still tried to hear as much as you could. Most of it was lost, but when they started shouting you heard bits like “putting your little sister in danger!” and “this is Billy fucking Kimber, Thomas” and “family first”. At first Tommy protested with “I didn’t know they knew her” and “Kimber is getting weak”, but eventually he shouted out in defeat, “I fucked up, alright? I’ll fix it. I promise.” When they came back, Tommy looked like a dog that’d just been kicked. So he retreated into a corner and started smoking, still sulking a little. Aunt Polly lifted your head up by placing a finger under your chin, “You won’t look pretty for a week, but it’ll heal.” You shrugged, not caring about being pretty at all, and muttered, “I feel like an idiot…” “Why?” your aunt demanded, “because big men decided to go after a small girl?” Tears started forming in the corners of your eyes, as you admitted, “Because I wanted to be brave! In my stories I’m pretty and strong and the hero, but in reality I’m just like a mouse. No one notices me and I’m useless…” “Sweetheart,” Polly softened her voice and crouched down next to you, “Just because you can’t fight like Arthur or John can, doesn’t make you useless. We’re all stuck here, in Small Heath, and there’s nothing pretty about that. But you reading all those books? That’s what’s going to make this easier. You can pretend, and that’s worth more than you’ll ever realise.” You smiled back at your aunt, who always knew what to say to make you feel better. “I’m off to the chemist to get you some powder against the pain,” she kissed the top of your head, “I’ll be right back, love.” After she’d gone as well, you sighed again and dropped the cloth. Her words mattered, of course they did, but it didn’t change the fact that you weren’t happy with yourself at all. For starters, you still couldn’t bear looking at Tommy. “Y/N,” he grumbled, which convinced you even more he was angry and disappointed, “Tell me what they looked like.” “They didn’t wear hats…” Impatiently he waved a hand, “Apart from that. What else?” “I don’t know,” you shrugged, “it all happened fast, Tommy. They had that accent that Kimber has as well.” “Fucking Cockneys…” your brother breathed. “Tommy?” you tried carefully, “I’m so sorry, but I lost the money. I tried to keep it. When they asked I told them to fuck off and then I tried to run and even fight, but they still took it. I’m so sorry…” He held up a hand to silence you and locked eyes with you, “You told them to fuck off?” “Yes, but it didn’t help…” “You actually told them to fuck off?” he frowned, “Usually you’re too shy to even say anything to strangers…” “I was angry,” you explained, “and I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Tommy walked over to you and much to your surprise, he was smirking, “So you told them to go fuck themselves, and then you fought them?” “Yes?” “Did you hit any of them?” You thought about it for a second, “I think I kicked one in the balls and hit the other in the face.” His grin grew even wider and he mumbled to himself, “Wait ‘till I tell Arthur about this…” “Why?” you protested, “So he can laugh at me as well?” “No, sweetheart, he’ll be the proudest brother ever. His little sister, who everyone thinks is a little mouse too scared to do anything? She fucking hit a grown man and told them to go fuck themselves. Now that’s a hero in my book!” His laugh was contagious and you had to join in. But soon you became uncertain again and asked, “Are you not upset I lost the money?” “The money’s not important,” his face grew serious again in an instant, “but you are.” “Really?” you whispered. “Yes,” he took your face in his hands, “Listen, Y/N, this is what’s going to happen: Billy Kimber threatened my little sister, so I’m going to put himup against the post, and shoot him.” “And then what?” “Well, what usually happens in your books? Maybe I could learn something from them, eh?” A warm feeling of being appreciated for who you were came over you, “You’d take his kingdom and his skull would be put up on the gates, as a warning for all future enemies.” “That’s fucking dark,” Tommy raised one eyebrow, “But I like it.” “Me too…” you smiled at your brother. “I mean it though, Y/N. Kimber touched you, so I’m going to shoot the bastard. I won’t let anyone fucking go near you again.” And just like that, you felt safe enough again to continue dreaming. *** A few weeks later, everything had turned to chaos, both in the Shelby household as in the whole of Birmingham. Tommy didn’t speak to anyone of what happened to you, he hadn’t even apologized, but he wasn’t like that. He told you he’d fix it, promised you revenge, and that was even better. When the men were counting minutes in front of the Garrison and Billy Kimber’s army arrived, you were sitting at home with a book. You couldn’t really concentrate, because you knew there were too many of them. You pretended some angel would appear to save them all. There’d have to be no bloodshed, because this angel would be on your brothers’ side. That angel came in the form of your older sister Ada. She’d always had flair. In the end, only two bullets were fired. You listened to them both. One killed Danny Whizz-bang. The other killed Billy Kimber. Nobody knew, but as Tommy fired, he didn’t have business on his mind.

As he aimed, he saw his little sister’s face, all bruised and battered.

He whispered, “for Y/N,” and shot.

Bang.

***

Masterlist

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fanficsfromyesteryear · 3 years

Note

Hi! Can I request headcanons for dating marcus (deadly class)? Thank you

HEADCANONS FOR DATING MARCUS LOPEZ ARGUELLO

A/N: Just a head’s up, I got a little carried away, so this is kinda long lol. Also, sorry this took forever! I’ve been suuuuuper busy lately :/ I almost had it done before work picked back up, but I couldn’t figure out how to end it. Anyway, I hope you like it!!

Before the two of you started dating, Marcus had no idea that you liked him, and for good reason

You did such a good job with hiding your feelings that sometimes even you forgot they were there, which was kind of the whole point

With girls like Saya and Maria around, sending out mixed signals and dropping subtle hints that they liked Marcus, too, it was intimidating

Add Marcus’s constant cynicism about love, and life in general, into the mix, and it was clear the chances of him actually liking you back were next to nothing

So, you knew it was probably for the best to move on

You used the “if you ignore it, it’ll go away” approach in the hopes that if you simply didn’t acknowledge your feelings, the problem would disappear

All this did, however, was create a whole new issue

Somewhere along the way, you’d begun to take the thought process of ‘ignoring your crush’ too literally

You and Marcus were best friends, so when, out of the blue, you stopped talking to him, he could tell something was up

He had no clue what, though

Naturally, he assumed it was something he had done

Marcus started asking around among your mutual friends to see if they knew anything, but they were all just as out of the loop as he was

You hadn’t told anyone about your repressed feelings for Marcus, and you had no intention of letting the secret slip any time soon, but accidents happen

The truth came out one night during a game of truth or dare when you were up on the roof smoking with the Rats

Your confession came tumbling out quicker than you could even think about reeling the words back in

“You hear that, Romeo?” Billy asked, elbowing Marcus in the ribs. “Y/N’s got the hots for you”

All Marcus could do was laugh nervously as he looked down at his feet, refusing to meet your gaze

To your relief, no one brought it up again for the rest of the game

When the next day rolled around and your crush on Marcus still wasn’t the topic of conversation, you started to think that you were in the clear

Maybe they’d all been too stoned to remember when they’d woken up that morning

Your hopes were shattered by the late afternoon

As you left the bathroom, Marcus spotted you from across the hall

He quickly rushed over and caught you by the elbow, dragging you back through the doorway

“Relationships aren’t really my thing,” he said

Marcus sounded like he had more to say, but before he got the chance, you cut him off

“It’s fine,” you said. “I get it”

“No, no. I mean, I like you, Y/N, really. I just don’t wanna mess it up”

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face even if you tried

“You’re not gonna mess it up”

Before either of you could say more, the bathroom door opened and Petra walked in

She glanced between the two of you knowingly

“Hate to break this up, but if I hold this piss in any longer, I’ll explode”

With that, she pushed past you both, effectively ruining the moment

It didn’t take long after that for you and Marcus to make your relationship official

‘Official’ is a bit of a loose term in this case

For the most part, both of you kept the fact that you were dating fairly under the radar for fear of what others would do with that information

In a place like King’s Dominion, something as small as caring for another person beyond using them as an ally was seen as a weakness that could and would be used against you, and the last thing either of you wanted was to be put in a situation where you were pitted against each other

Of course, there were several instances when one (or both) of you nearly blew your cover

Such as in Martial Arts class

Instead of fighting you, Marcus would try to cop a feel

You’d quickly smack his hand away

“Miss De Luca’s right there!”

“She’s not looking”

In defense of both of you, though, a class in which hormonal teenagers are asked to pair themselves up and wrestle is practically an invitation to break the ‘no sex’ rule

The other classes you shared weren’t any better

Master Lin caught you and Marcus staring at each other instead of paying attention on multiple occasions, earning both of you a smack from his cane

Although Marcus was somewhat known for his smart mouth and talking back to authority, he knew better than to challenge Lin, not mention that if he did, he’d risk exposing the two of you in the process

So, Marcus bit back his insults and held in his tirade until the two of you were safely locked away in his dorm room

“He had no right to hit you like that”

“I’m fine,” you assured him, shoving another tissue up your nose to stop the bleeding. “Besides, he does it to everyone”

“That still doesn’t give him the right”

“Next time, I’m gonna stick that cane right up his ass”

Marcus wanted to shield you from all the violence at King’s, but when it was coming from teachers, there wasn’t much he could do about it

If it was a fellow student pushing you around, on the other hand, there was no holding him back

You loved how protective Marcus was of you, but sometimes you worried that he’d get carried away

Marcus always made sure you were never around to witness the fights take place, but the scrapes and bruises on his face that hadn’t been there when you saw him that morning were all the proof you needed

In such cases, you would insist on patching him up afterwards

The first few times this happened, Marcus was embarrassed by all the attention you were giving him

After a while, though, he grew to love the feeling of having someone fuss over him, especially if it was you

It was nice to have someone care about him for a change

You weren’t much of a fighter, but making sure he didn’t get Tetanus was your way of looking out for him

When you and Marcus weren’t getting into trouble, you were actually a pretty cute couple

Your roommates became accustomed to the two of you being a package deal, which often meant sneaking into each other’s rooms after lights out

Sometimes, it was to make out, but other times, it was so you could have late night conversations that you didn’t get the chance to have during the day

The topics of these conversations varied—they could be deep and philosophical (which was Marcus’s favorite kind), an opportunity to open up to each other about yourselves and your pasts, a time to plot someone’s death (usually only theoretically), or simply joking around

After especially long days, you would accidentally drift off in the middle of these nightly chats with your head on Marcus’s chest, but he never minded

He’d pull the covers up on your side and wrap his arms more tightly around you

While both of you were perfectly capable of pulling all-nighters, whenever you fell asleep, Marcus was never far behind

The sound of your evened-out breathing was like a lullaby to him, so it was safe to say that his sleep schedule drastically improved after the two of you started dating

You’d found that you slept better with Marcus, too, so on the few nights you spent apart, you’d doze off listening to the mixtapes he’d made you in your Walkman, which were full of your favorite songs and songs that reminded him of you (though, these had quickly become your favorites, too)

It was rare that the two of you weren’t together, though

Even during the day, you and Marcus were practically joined at the hip

At lunch, you would hold hands under the table and share food

Of course, this always opened the door for plenty of teasing from your friends, especially Lex

“While you’re at it, why don’t you chew the food up for each other and pass it back and forth like little birds?”

“Fuck off, Lex”

It was always in good fun, though

Actually, the other Rats were relieved when the two of you finally got together because the weird tension that had been brewing leading up to that point went away, meaning group hangouts could carry on normally

They could overlook you sitting in Marcus’s lap if it meant you weren’t being distant and secretive

Just like they pretended not to notice when you showed up to class wearing each other’s blazers by mistake after spending the night together

Or walking in late looking ✨especially disheveled✨

All in all, you and Marcus are King’s Dominion’s cutest couple™️ that only, like, five other people know about, but still-

#marcus lopez arguello #marcus lopez x reader #marcus lopez arguello x reader #marcus lopez arguello headcanons #marcus lopez headcanons #deadly class #deadly class headcanons

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crankynewt · 3 years

Text

Back to the Future - Chapter Three

Live in Living Colour Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Summary: As you begin to remember who you and Peter really are, the truth of WestView is revealed as you attempt to break free from the endless mind games.

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Major WandaVision Episode Seven spoilers!

A/N: Here’s the much anticipated continuation of Be Okay and Life Could Be a Dream! I had to take more creative liberties than I had intended since we got so little Peter last episode (which is even more of a crime than that beanie), but I hope you guys enjoy anyways!

The hard ground was cold and damp beneath your cheek. Slowly opening your eyes, darkness was only met with more darkness. After your sight had adjusted to the gloom, you could make out a faint purple glowing coming from the walls. It was almost as if it was omitting from the tangled branches warping across the stone surface.

Pushing yourself off the ground, your bones ached as you used what little energy you had left to sit yourself up. There were no windows in the tiny room and the wooden door across from you was more than likely locked. It’s not like you even had enough power to move over there anyways.

With a sigh, you rubbed your palm against your forehead as you tried to figure out how you’d gotten there. The last thing you remembered was asking Wanda why Peter couldn’t remember you as your real memories came flooding back to your conscious mind.

You didn’t know how long you were falling when you landed on the cold evening grass. There was still just enough adrenaline left in your system for you to immediately jump to your feet, eyes glowing yellow as you raised your fists raised as you took in your surroundings.

You were on the lawn of some mansion, the towering stone structure dimly illuminated by the lights left on in a few of the windows. Your heart raced as you turned around quickly, seeing nothing but hedges and grass on the massive lawn.

Although your mind was still racing, you eventually reached the conclusion that knocking on the door was the best option. With your cape trailing behind you, you strode across the grass and up the driveway as you made your way to the front entrance. Despite how intimidating the massive oak doors would normally have seemed, you bravely reached up to the heavy knocker and slammed it down thrice.

Rather than feeling anxious, you felt annoyed more than anything. Of course Thanos would send you somewhere far away from where you needed to be. You only hoped that this really was Earth and you weren’t stranded on some random planet.

You weren’t sure exactly how long it had been when a timid looking man with glasses finally opened the door.

“Can I help you with something?” He asked, furrowing his brow as he took in your super-suited form. A little part of you was almost embarrassed at your appearance, but there were more important things to worry about.

“Yeah, where am I?” You asked, crossing your arms and pursing your lips.

“Uh, Charles Xavier’s School for the Gifted�� I’m sorry, who are you?” He replied, opening the door slightly wider as his confusion intensified.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N). And where is this school?” You said, pushing the topic even more. “We are on Earth, right?”

“Are we on Earth?! Why wouldn’t you be on Earth? That’s not just something you don’t know.” He retorted, and you could see the veins on his hand growing a startling shade of blue. You decided to ignore it, if this stereotypical scientist guy wanted to fight then you could easily take him out.

“Okay, so the titan behind the attack on New York a couple years ago, Thanos, is trying to gather these things called infinity stones to wipe out half the universe. Some of his goons were just trying to get the time stone from this wizard in New York, and Iron Man, Spider-Man and I wound up having to save him, which led to us winding up on Thanos’ home planet, Titan.” You explained, making gestures with your hands as you spoke. “Long story short we were there fighting and he opened some portal and dropped me through it and now I’m here.”

“Oh, that makes sense. Bye!” He began closing the door in your face until something, or rather someone, stopped him.

“Wait!” A British voice called from inside the school, prompting the glasses-clad man to open the door even wider than before. This new figure was bald and seated in a wheelchair, rolling closer to you with a curious gaze. “They’re not crazy Hank.” He addressed the man, who quickly stepped out of the way so that you could enter the building and closing the door behind you.

“Professor Charles Xavier.” He introduced himself, reaching out to shake your hand with a knowing gaze. “You are a long way from home, aren’t you. The reality you remember is much farther away and about thirty years in the future.”

“Wait, what?! Thanos yeeted me back to the eighties?!” You exclaimed, shock and terror flowing through your veins as a gust of air blew past you.

“What’s a ‘yeeted’?” A new voice asked and you suddenly noticed a silver haired boy leaning against the wall nonchalantly. “Are you some Marty McFly Back to the Future-character or something?”

You glared in response as you felt annoyed with this stranger and his childish antics. This was going to be a long night.

The memory of your first meeting with your beloved Peter was enough motivation for you to push yourself off the ground, wobbling on unsteady legs as you rushed to the door. Wiggling the knob to no avail, you took a few steps back and raised your hand in an attempt to blow it off it’s hinges.

“That’s not going to work, you know.” A familiar voice behind you spoke. Whipping around, you saw Agnes, except now her hair was tangled and her eyes were glowing purple.

“So you’re the one doing this. Not Wanda…” You said, sizing her up as the woman stroked the rabbit in her arms.

“Oh no, Wanda is doing this, but I’m the one behind the wheel.” She bitterly smiled. “Agatha Harkness, dear. You see, I needed a Pietro for Wanda but the real one’s been dead just a little too long. Your ‘Peter’ was the perfect replacement, but unfortunately you tagged along when I ripped him from your reality.”

“Peter and Pietro are completely different, Wanda’s eventually gonna figure that out.” You snapped, growing more and more furious with each syllable passing through her lips.

“Peter’s playing his part like a champ! He won’t be missing you anytime soon.” Each word was nails on a chalkboard to your ears. “But don’t worry about being lonely, you won’t be alone down here much longer.” With a swish and a flick of her fingers, Agnes disappeared into a swirl of purple and Tommy and Billy took her place.

“(Aunt/Uncle) (Y/N)!” They shouted, terrified and immediately running over to where you stood. You met them with open arms, holding the twins close in a hug as you whispered that everything was going to be okay in a failed attempt to comfort them.

“Mom said Pietro isn’t really our uncle… Who is he?” Tommy questioned as you let go of the duo.

“He’s not… His name is Peter, and he’s from another reality. Your Mom’s brother died a long time ago, but Agatha brought him over because technically they are the same person? I think? I’m not sure how it works, but they are both Maximoffs and Peter has a little sister named Wanda, too. It’s complicated, but that witch is controlling him.” You explained, answering questions that you didn’t really understand yourself.

“You’re thinking really loud…” Billy commented, holding his head in his hands as he attempted to block out the noise of your mind rushing a hundred miles an hour.

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could talk you felt a gentle tap in your mind. Then another, this prod slightly stronger. And again, the poking becoming quite the nuisance.

“Billy, please don’t try to read my mind.” You said, staring into space as you attempted to keep the child out of your thoughts.

“I’m not.” He replied, dropping his hands to his sides as me met your eyes with a look of confusion.

You matched his puzzlement, the poking continuing and becoming even harder to ignore. Maybe it was a lapse in judgement or your exhaustion catching up to you, but you decided to drop your defences and let this strange presence into your head.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N), can you hear me?” A voice in your head asked.

“Charles!”

Taglist:

@cspr-2 @lam-ila @sarcasticbitchs-things @calaryssia @ashleysimmons

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spnsisterimagines · 3 years

Text

Mario Kart

Summary - Y/N decides to engage her brothers and Castiel into Mario Kart, not realizing what she was getting herself into.

Pairings - Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader, Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader, Jack Kline x Platonic!Winchester!Reader, Castiel x Winchester!Reader

Word Count - 1,911 words

"Let's get it!" Y/N squeals, claiming her spot on the middle of the couch. She was practically bouncing up and down, waiting impatiently for everyone to join her. The Dean Cave had brightened considerably since she had added a few redecorations. While Dean initially denied her, she had forced him to allow her to put up LED lights, several polaroids from her camera(they were mostly of herself smiling widely at the camera while Sam and Dean looked mildly annoyed with fake smiles. There was also a real funny one where Sam was unconscious on a hunt and Y/N decided to pose beside him), as well as posters from their favorite bands. Not to mention the added dock to the TV stand to hold her Nintendo Switch that Sam had bought her for her previous birthday.

She supposed he regretted it now, since she was forcing him to play a game he'd never even heard of.

He entered the room first, holding a big bowl of popcorn and a soda. Dean followed close behind, Little Debbie packages hanging from his mouth since his arms were occupied with pillows from their bedrooms and a pack of beers for himself. Jack was the only one to come empty handed. He happily took the spot beside Y/N, waving merrily as Castiel also appeared with two sodas(both of them for Beth because he was just so considerate), taking the spot on her other side.

"I'll give this an hour before we switch to movie night, Y/N," Dean warned as he occupied his armchair, which was to the left of the couch. She had discovered this old thing at a garage sale. It had been a rather stressful day because Dean had refused to strap it to Baby and they had to hound what little friends they had for a truck. Since most of their friends were dead, Y/N had hot wired one outside of a bar and returned it before the drunk redneck inside could notice it had even left. She was sure the dent in the bed was there before they put the couch on it. Sam had not been happy about that.

Sam took his own armchair, which was to the right of the couch.

"What is it, again?" he asked curiously.

"Is the only thing in the media you've ever heard Facebook? You've seriously never heard of Mario Kart?" Y/N asked, happily accepting one of the sodas from Castiel. "Dad really did a number on us. I was introduced to this through Charlie." She got up to grab the number of controllers necessary for four. Jack was eager to try the game, but he was always open to trying new things, something Y/N could appreciate.

After connecting them to the Switch, she handed them out to her brothers along with Jack before returning to her spot on the couch between the angel and nephilim.

"If I remember correctly from what you've told me, it's a racing game, right?" Castiel asked.

"Exactly, except with a few quirks to make it interesting. Like, um...I could throw a shell and hit one of them and vice versa. Or a banana peel. I'll give them a trial run before we actually get into it. Are you sure you don't want to try it, Cas?"

Castiel shook his head. "I have seen how you play with Charlie, and I don't want to be on the receiving end of your anger. And I rather like watching you in your element."

Y/N smiled, blushing, before playfully pushing him.

"I need to get drunk to stomach this," Dean said, offended as he popped one of the beers open and took a gulp. "Keep the PDA to a minimum guys, you've got a kid next to you. Alright, what buttons do I push to hit Sam?"

"What the hell?" Sam scoffed.

"What?"

"We haven't even started and you're gunnin' for me?"

"Uh, yeah!"

"Alright, alright! First we gotta pick our player," Y/N mediated, pressing the buttons to get them to the screen full of Mario players. "I already got mine." She moved her icon until it landed on Wendy, before selecting her. "Obviously the best character, hands down."

The three boys maneuvered their icons over different characters, for some reason taking it a little too seriously on who they would choose. Sam selected his first.

"Luigi?" Dean scoffed.

"You got a problem?" Sam asked.

"No, but...why Luigi?"

"Who cares, I just chose him."

"You have to have a reason, man." Dean shook his head, before selecting his own.

"Why'd you choose Bowser, then?"

"Because he's a badass. And he'd beat the holy hell out of Luigi if the games lost their PG rating," Dean shrugged.

Jack hummed thoughtfully, still scrolling. "I choose him!"

He selected Toad.

"Why him, Jack?" she asked.

"I like his hat."

Y/N snorted, but it was a valid enough answer. Once everyone was ready, she selected the settings for the game and then decided to use the time to explain to them how the controls worked and anything else they were curious about. After a few trial races, they were ready for the real thing. Castiel was sitting patiently, his hands on his lap.

"You assholes are going down," Dean declared, bringing his remote closer to him.

"So much for being appropriate in front of the kid," Y/N sneered, but she was just as ready.

She set the game to go through ten races with a random select for the roads.

And with that, they were off.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" Dean yelled, nearly jumping to his feet. His first empty beer bottle slide across the floor from his rapid movement. "I DIDN'T EVEN TOUCH IT! I DIDN'T GO NEAR THE GODDAMN PEEL!"

"That might've been mine," Sam stated, smugly. "But Bowser also takes up half the road, so avoiding it was probably impossible anyway."

Dean squinted. "You callin' me fat, Sammy?"

Sam shrugged. "Luigi's doing just fine."

Y/N hid her smile as she hit her own item, snatching that smile right from Sam's face.

"Why did you do that?" he asked, incredulous, the red shell sending Luigi off the edge of the map.

"You got in my way!" Y/N sang.

It only seemed to get worse from there. What was supposed to be an hour of playing turned into four with the bowl of popcorn thrown across the room at Dean when he had decided to hit Sam three times with three separate shells before snagging first place and doing a lewd dance as a way to declare his victory. Y/N's hair had bristled up, becoming bushier almost as though it were alive. Her right eye was twitching, and her hands were cramping by now.

Jack, however, was having a good time. He has gotten last place the entire time, but he was still having fun, and that's what truly mattered.

Castiel, on the other hand, seemed to be on the verge of a panic attack, not knowing whose side he should take because all three Winchester siblings were completely out of their minds, including Y/N.

Finally, it was the last race. Everyone's nerves were shot. Sam's hair seemed even more raggedy than Y/N's, and his shirt was stained with soda because Dean decided to take vengeance by chucking his pillow at him when Sam was taking a big gulp. They had to pause the game for several minutes while Sam fought for his life coughing and wheezing because the soda went down the wrong pipe.

"I'm afraid I must at least attempt to deter you guys from participating in another race. There aren't any weapons in the Dean Cave, but I'm sure you three will find a way to kill each other," Castiel said, worried. "Jack, are you okay?"

Jack nodded enthusiastically. "I'm having fun!"

"I will let it be known if I lose, someone is dying tonight. I will call Billie to fix it, but someone has to die tonight if I lose," Y/N threatened.

"Good luck with that, I'm kicking all of your asses, and you can kiss mine when it crosses the finish line," Dean said.

"I don't even care if I win, as long as you guys lose. And I'll make sure it happens." Sam jeered.

With that, the race began. Aside from Jack and Castiel, everyone was bloodthirsty. Surely no matter who won, someone was gonna be pissed off. Castiel was making a mental note to grab Jack as soon as possible and escort him out of the room while the siblings brawled.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Y/N shouted, jumping to her feet. "WHO DID IT! WHO DID IT?"

"I did!" Sam happily announced, moving to and fro with the turn of his controller, as though he were in the game himself.

"I'm gonna get you, Sam," Y/N snarled, pressing hard on the buttons, trying her best to catch up to her brother, collecting any items she came across, but none of them were good enough, so she kept using them without thinking until she heard Dean curse and also jump to his feet.

"THAT WAS ME, JACKASS!" he yelled, completely distraught. "I didn't even do anything this time!"

"You probably deserved it anyway!" Sam shrugged, continuing to maneuver through the AIs to get to the front.

By that time, Dean and Y/N had caught up, and with all they had, they used their items to completely screw each other over up until every kart had passed them. In the end, they were the bottom three with Sam first, Y/N second, and Dean in dead last. And for a moment there after, nobody said anything. They were completely beside themselves in utter shock at what just occurred.

"What just happened?" Y/N asked, deflating considerably.

"We lost..." Sam mumbled.

"Screw you guys, I lost overall!" Dean scoffed.

"I won!" Jack suddenly cheered, leaping to his feet and jumping up and down. "I won!"

"You what?" Y/N asked, shocked as her eyes trailed to the top. Sure enough, Toad was in first place. "You're kidding!"

"I can't believe I won!" Jack said, smiling as he high-fived a proud Castiel.

"I want a rematch," Dean commanded, sitting back down and retrieving his controller.

"Yeah, me, too!" Sam agreed.

"I'm down!" Y/N eagerly agreed, about to grab hers when Castiel snatched it. He went around the room, taking up all the controllers.

"Given that it's five in the morning, and just a couple moments ago you three were ready to quite literally rip each other's throats out, I'm going to recommend everyone get up and get to bed instead," he instructed curtly. "I think we should postpone a future night of games indefinitely, at least for a little while until you three can learn to control yourselves."

"What-but-you can't-" Y/N sputtered.

"Quite literally, I can shut off whatever is necessary so you can never play the game again with just a snap of my fingers," Castiel warned. "Shower and get some sleep. Jody already told us she needed to discuss something at noon tomorrow, and it would be rude if we were tardy. C'mon, let's go!"

With a grumble, everyone got up and cleaned their mess, ignoring each other vehemently as they walked out. Except for Jack; he was practically skipping.

There was another good thing about tonight that he knew about. He was the one that triggered the lightning item that really stumped the three siblings and put them at the bottom three.

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msookyspooky · 3 years

Text

Random Headcanon's for the Scream Character's

Billy really was a normal sweet kid and a good boyfriend before his mom left. Everyone paints him as always being crazy and his mom just triggered him but I honestly don't think that's true. Sidney and her parents would not have been okay with her dating a bad boy from Sophomore year onward. Sure it happens and maybe she saw past it but If Sidney would have seen how Billy acted with Randy in the videostore; instant break up imo. He could not have hid that side of himself for two years straight. Remember, they were dating a whole year prior to Maureen cheating. My theory is he may or may not have had a 'side' to him or other undiagnosed disorder in his gene pool (Mrs Loomis snapping too.) but Billy's psychotic breakdown was mostly situational + groomed by Roman and there were other things in his life that probably were boiling over and Debbie leaving him completely broke him. So, he was in an extremely vulnerable state when Roman came around and molded him. THAT is why Sidney trusted him so much in Scream before the phone incident and even somewhat after. Because Billy was a good boyfriend before her mom's murder and she would have never suspected it. Now how her or no one else could see him tumbling into madness or at least deep depression before Roman sank his talons in is beyond me. Maybe she did and he shrugged her off? Either way, the situation made him shut down all empathy towards other people and changed him. His empathy is towards his mom, possibly his dad since Hank never died and that is it. He has symptoms of a psychopath and even though that is usually genetic I 100% think a psychotic breakdown could do it as well.(Don't come for me bitch I'm not trained in any of this just using what I know from research 🧍‍♀️) If his mom never left and Roman didn't come along; Billy would have never been a killer

Contrary to Billy's situational psychological crazyness. Stu was always going to kill. I don't even think it's is he a sociopath vs a psychopath argument as much as he is just disconnected from reality. (Though he would most likely be a Sociopath if he was bc of his lack of boundaries as well impulsive behavior. Thinking killing was a game.) Stu possibly suffered abuse as a child. He was terrified of his parents more than the law. Either A. They abused him and permanently terrified him. Or B. He really has a stunted mentality and thinks of killing as a game and fears his parents more than the law bc the consequences are just not clicking LIKE A KID. He's like a giant little kid with no sense of how things work. He still could have been abused and that is what stunted his growth mentally. However, his violent tendacies were always there. Never preplanned just urgent anger or sadistic glee he couldn't control. Billy just suggested the killings and he was instantly down. Like, hell yeah cool. Most ppl no matter what mental illness they have or how severe are not that easy to convince. Whose to say he hadn't killed before or was planning to? My theory is he is so disconnected from reality that killing really is a giant fun game to him and he would have eventually murdered someone even without Billy.

Idk why this isn't more thought of throughout the fandom. Billy and Stu did not rape Maureen bc the evidence would have pointed to someone other than the guy they were framing. Cotton Weary had sex with Maureen, left, Billy and Stu taunted her on the phone and lured her away, they killed her, police suspected rape bc A. they didn't know about the affairs. B. Cotton's semen or her discharge or bruising being there. They naturally assumed it was rape but in actuality no one raped her. Cotton's dna from their affair incriminated him even more. Not saying that Billy and Stu would think of rape as morally wrong enough not to do in their book BUT it would have been stupid on their part and made it obvious there were other suspects besides Cotton.

Stu isn't a lapdog. Stu literally revealed on the phone he was going to throw Billy under the bus. He hesitated giving him the knife. Stu is like a kid. He most likely suffered trauma that regressed his mental age. He's eager to please, desperate for attention and most likely fawns over people he feels close to in an obsessive way. He could have even been in love with Billy and vice versa which is why he was so eager to please him. However, he was not nearly as stupid or a lapdog as much as the fandom makes him out to be. I think Randy saying it in the videostore sealed the deal for people even though he was only acting like that bc he was helping Billy too and covering their tracks. Billy was the one with the plan. Stu just tagged along out of the urge to kill. But he 100% had his own plan to kill and bail if needed. My mind is made up on that.

There was a third killer in Scream and it wasn't a teen or Roman. You're telling me two 17-18 yr old guys could come up with every detail? Roman only told Billy the basics. How did they get tactical police shoes? How did they get to the houses so fast and leave just as quickly? How did they both take down and restrain Steve or Neil by themselves enough to tie them up? Sure, Stu was deranged and tall but these two lanky teens were able to take on a football player with muscles and a grown man? Possible but stil meh to me. Their plan was too thorough for two teen boys to come up with on their own. Both crazy. One completely unhinged and disconnected from reality and the other so blinded by revenge he was stupid at times. (Fucking stabbing yourselves before killing Neil and Sidney. Not even thinking to AT LEAST tie Sidney up as well...Really? Jill was smarter in 4 in that respect tbh.) I truly think their was an adult involved in Scream helping them or guiding them. I would say Roman if it wasn't for him going back to Hollywood. But Billy and Stu had help DURING the killings 100%.

Randy is not this mecha survival final boy like the fandom thinks. The kid watched one too many horror movies and based them on real life. Scream itself is making fun of slasher movies and Randy was supposed to be the narrator setting most of the dumb rules up into play. Everyone is like "omg that's so out of character how he died in 2" no its not. If the rules work then him losing his virginity did him in. He was drinking, he was pissed off and not thinking. Plus Mrs. Loomis attacked in broad daylight, something no one thought of. (And the whole debate how a middle aged woman could pull him in. LOOK. Randy is a fucking small guy and she grabbed him backwards, using momentum to haul him back into the van. PLUS she was enraged at what he said about Billy. Adrenaline is a hell of a super drug as far as testing the bodies limits. I have seen tiny girls become the hulk when they are pissed I'm jus sayin) Point is, Randy was just a teen boy that loved horror movies. He was not some survival guide especially since it showed him even on the couch not aware of Ghostface behind him. He was a giant satire showing how even he didn't always follow the rules of slasher movies and how dumb the rules are.

Tatum loved Sidney and had more chemistry with her than Billy. I am not saying they weren't just BFF's and I don't want to ruin female friendship with constantly thinking "omg they are gay together" any time two women are close. BUT it is strange that it was only those two as friends especially since Sidney didn't fit into Tatum's popular social circle. It's like Tatum went out of her way to be friends with Sidney. Maybe they were childhood friends and that's why? But I think it's entirely possible that just like it's speculated that Stu and Billy were secretly in love; Tatum possibly was at least bi and in love with Sidney.

#idk just getting random headcanons out there.#scream #headcanons

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jellyfishloveletterghosts · 2 years

Note

For the fanfic writer ask game: 3, 9, 16, 17

Thanks for the ask hun 💜💜😊

3 What’s a fic idea that you have but haven’t written yet?

So I talked about Drag Queen Billy in the last one, how about some Drag Queen Steve.

90's setting because I put on a play list I thought my mom would like and Sex and Candy came on.

Billy's an up and coming musician so he's been to all the parties and seen it all but that doesn't stop him from being transfixed when he sees them. Six inch heels towering over most of the party pastel patent leather dress with a big red cherry headband on top of pink curls. They're a vision and make Billy who's lactose and tolerant suddenly crave that sweet treat.

Billy sees one of his band mates talking to them and corners Tommy demanding an introduction.Tommy laughs on his face and Billy is annoyed but he drags Billy after him to that tall drink of water. Billy stands there waiting with building impatience as he stares up at them. "Hey Stevie, you remember Billy, right?"

Remember? It breaks Billy’s brain for a long minute. "Kind of hard to forget him." He knows that voice, he knows that constellation of moles that he can just finally make out under heavy dramatic makeup.

"Pretty boy?" Billy chokes out staring even harder now, more interested than ever.

"Miss me, big guy?" Steve asks with a wink, pink lips glossy as they catch the light as he smirks.

"Yeah." Billy squeaks out flushing, he usually had more cool than this.

"Yeah?" Steve asks, smile turning more genuine "how about you buy me a drink and tell me how much."

"I'll buy you all the drinks you want." Billy says holding an arm out just glad Steve seems more delighted than mocking even as Tommy and the woman at his side both snickering at Billy's overzealous display.

Just Steve becoming Billy’s muse and they keep it hush hush because it's the 90s and their public figures. Billy isn't out so they've always got someone else on their arm when they go to the dame parties and it drives Billy crazy, makes him jealous. Something Steve is definitely aware of uses it, pretends to be more interested in his dates than he is, even when he drags Carol along. She doesn't mind being a prop to wind Billy up, she finds it hilarious.

Without fail Billy always ends up dragging Steve into a closet or bathroom, sometimes even a spare bedroom if the place is particularly big. Bending Steve over the nearest surface and refusing to let him cum until he apologizes for messing with him. Steve goes right back to it as soon as he's back out, even worse than before because he's a brat and he knows Billy will do it all over again at the party if it's early, at the apartment they secretly share if not.

9 What’s your favorite line(s) or scene(s) that you have written?

I never know what to answer for this over all but a scene I'm currently really feeling this scene from Perkins' Repair Shop

“You fuck yourself a lot pretty boy?” Billy asks, stalking forward licking over his teeth undeterred by the triumph shining in Steve’s eyes.

“What else am I supposed to do in this dinky little town, it’s not like the local college boys can keep up with me?” Steve asks, batting his eyes up at Billy when he steps between his spread thighs, taking the lube from his hand. “Not everyday someone as attractive as you comes across my path.” Steve says slowly, pulling the zipper of his coveralls down.

“Hot piece of ass like you probably gets plenty of offers.” Billy falls to his knees between Steve’s thighs, the chair low enough to let him lean up and kiss at Steve’s neck. Steve squirms, working his arms out of his coveralls, Billy blindly helping by pulling at the material, dragging it down to pool around Steve’s waist.

“Doesn’t mean they're good ones” Steve pouts and Billy lurches up, the idea that he is a good one getting him right where Steve wants him and Billy does not care that he is being led. He catches that bottom lip between his teeth before pressing his lips properly against his mouth, tongue sliding over that swelling lip and pressing in, Steve’s tongue sliding against his as they kiss. “You’re going to be good to me right?” Steve asks as the kiss breaks, hands framing Billy’s cheeks and he has never wanted to be better for someone in his life than he does right now looking into those big brown eyes.

“So good.” Billy promises, kissing him again long and hard before he pulls away and working Steve’s work boots from his feet, tossing them to the side, eyes heavy on Steve “Need you to stand so we can get you out of all these clothes baby.” He tugs at Steve’s waist and he goes up easy, hands falling against Billy’s shoulder, brown eyes watching Billy as he tugs the coveralls down his legs, Steve stepping out of it without prompting. “Will you take your polo off for me?”

“If you ask nicely.” Steve says it soft, face gentle and heated as he licks over his lips, hand coming up to stroke at Billy’s chin.

Anyone else and he would rebuke them but there is something about Steve that makes Billy’s lips part on a “Please.” The smile that splits across his face goes right to Billy’s dick, bright and happy, he wants to kiss it, instead he works Steve’s tight pants open.

“So good.” Steve praises and Billy’s dick is even harder against his inseam, he barely even notices when Steve removes not one but two polos, does not even think to mock as his eyes scan up over pale mole dotted skin, he wants to trace them with his tongue.

16 How long is your longest fic?

That would be You're Extra Special, Something Else It’s 8 chapters and comes in at a word count of 94,710. Someday I fancy I might write an even longer story. I mean like an even 1m would just feel nice lol, I wrote over 4x that last year spread out among a bunch of stories so like it's not unthinkable.

17 Are there any writers and/of stories that you consider an influence?

You know I don't think so, not specifically. Fandom has a strange way of bringing out similar ideas in people whether they're directly interacting or not. Especially on Tumblr we see posts and they bring out a similar but different take in people. I'm specifically talking posts that were never meant to vibe with a specific ship and yet do. Popular yet unrelated posts come around and suddenly we're all inspired to write aus about it.

That being said, I definitely take inspiration from other writers. Sometimes it's something that I really enjoyed reading in a fic and want to see more of so I include the mannerism or whatever it is into my own stories. Sometimes I read an au form a different Fandom and I'm suddenly like I want to write this kind of au tor whichever ship I'm vibing the hardest with at that moment, usually Harringove. I think every piece of fanfiction I've ever read has helped influence me in one way or another.

Ask Me

#harringrove #jellyghostask #ask game #jellyghostfic #Drag Queen Steve Harrington

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allthemenofmydreams · 3 years

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Euro Final - Ben Chilwell

This whole tournament has been full of ups and downs for Ben. Starting with his absence from the bench in England's first game, everything seemed to be going well in the next one when Southgate finally put him on the bench. But as I said, all seemed to go well because, after that game, Ben had to isolate himself, and if things weren't already difficult just because he couldn't see his family. Now he was deprived of seeing, and training with, his teammates. He had to stay alone in his room.

I always admired Ben for his strong mentality and positivity, but with everything that has happened to him these past few weeks, I started to worry about his mental health. He had to miss a game, and in the next game, when his isolation was over. He reappeared off the bench. Honestly, I lost faith that Ben was going to be able to make his major tournament debut after being isolated for having contact with his clubmate Billy Gilmour who tested positive for Covid.

If I lost my faith, I couldn't imagine how Ben would feel. Every time we talked on the phone or FaceTime, I knew we were both lying. I knew he was trying to sound positive about all this stuff and that it would be a matter of time before I saw him play. Because that's what I told him and what he told me, I don't think either of us wanted to face that reality, so we lied to ourselves in a way that didn't hurt us.

Every time I hung up, I started crying. And every time I saw England's starting line-up, I was pissed off. I was angry because I knew they were wasting Ben's talent. After all, he had had an incredible first season with Chelsea and because he played a big part in the Champions League final. I knew Ben deserved to play, more than some of his teammates, I knew he had all the weapons to prove he deserved to play in the Euro, yet they deprived Ben of playing and showing his skills.

As England progressed in the tournament, I had a lot of mixed feelings; I was sad, angry, and happy. And when England beat Denmark in the semifinals, I was very happy. I felt this would be Ben's chance, or at least I was trying to convince myself. I was happy for him because after everything he's been through in this process, and playing or not, he deserved it as much as the rest of the team because they were all making history.

The final match arrived and I was on my way to Wembley Stadium, wearing my England jersey with my boyfriend's last name on it. I had a knot in my stomach, my palms were sweating, and all the noise was overwhelming. After being stuck at home for so long with no social contact, this was a bombshell for me and was making me anxious. If it wasn't for Ben's message, I definitely would have freaked out.

Ben

"Breathe in and out Y/N."

Your message came at the best time. As I inhaled and exhaled, I imagined a moment of Ben, so I could relax. Eventually, that relaxed me. I started breathing normally and feeling better.

"We're not together but I know all these people are going to scare you. It's more than we're used to in the last few games, and it's a hurricane after over a year of not socializing... And I don't want you to pass out again."

After a long time watching the games from home, when we finally had the opportunity to go and watch a game, which was also the FA Cup final. The number of people that attended to watch the game was not even half of the number of people that attended today. That day, I remember I was walking down the aisle to enter the stadium when I started to gasp for breath. We were still in an open area, but all those people made me feel like I was in a room where the walls were squeezing in. I was also wearing a mask that made breathing difficult, and a few seconds later, everything went black. The last thing I remember is waking up in the team infirmary, and at halftime, Ben went to see if I was okay.

Another message brought me back to reality.

"I'm off the bench again, but I trust this team, and I know we're going to bring it home. Besides, I don't mind not playing if I'm finally going to get to hug you."

I read his message and replied to it as I walked around the stadium to find my seat. I was sad for him because all his chances of playing were now zero.

Me "Oh, babe. I'm sorry to hear that, but I know you'll make the country proud. I'm so sad that my vacation break from you is coming to an end."

I replied sarcastically. I couldn't wait to feel his strong arms wrapping around me. I was eager to feel his warm body and his perfume, I mean his perfume is all over our house, but it sure isn't the same. It's not the same fragrance when it comes from Ben's body.

Ben "If you prefer, you can stay at home while I go to Ibiza."

Me "I'm not letting u go without me."

Ben "If your good to me, maybe I can take u with me."

Me "I think it should be all the opposite."

We exchanged a couple more messages until I found my seat and the game started. Minute 2 and England scored! Luke Shaw gave us the lead. It was too early to think about the trophy but, it gave us hope. Unfortunately, in the second half, Italy scored and tied the game. Time passed, and it went to extra time, which led to penalties.

We were waiting for the penalties. My heart was racing, my hands were sweating, and my stomach was burning. From goals and missed shots, happiness turned to sadness. We lost, England lost. Italy was now the new champion of Europe.

As soon as the ceremony was over. I ran to the room where the post-match dinner with the families was to be held, and where the players would finally see and have contact with their families. I couldn't wait to see my man, to hug him, but most of all to comfort him. It was a hard blow, but I was proud of him and the whole team.

I opened the door and looked for number 21. Ben's number. I was about to take a step when a voice behind me stopped me.

"Looking for me?"

I turned around immediately. I knew that voice perfectly well. It was the voice I had missed for over a month. I rushed into Ben's arms and burst into tears.

"I missed you!" I murmured into the crook of his neck.

"I missed you too, like crazy." He kissed my forehead. "These days have been hard without you."

"I know, and I'm sorry for what happened, although I'm still proud of you."

"None of that matters anymore, when I can finally be with you" we both smiled. I was more than happy to finally see that beautiful withe smile and those blue eyes that made me fall in love every day. "Shall we get in?"

"Yup," I said, taking his hand. "A well-deserved dinner. I still can't believe you guys made it to the finals."

"It didn't end the way we hoped, but it's still something I'll never forget, and I'm proud of what we accomplished."

After all of Ben's ups and downs, I was glad to see him smiling and positive. I could tell he was looking forward to the vacation because I was too. He has worked so hard these past few months that he deserved a break.

We walked into the lounge to join the rest of the guests.

#Ben chilwell #ben chilwell oneshot #ben chilwell one shot #ben chilwell imagine #football imagine #imagines #football #football fanfic #ben chilwell fanfic #fanfic #oneshot #ben chilwell blurb #football blurb

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writing-blog-iguess · 3 years

Text

Reassurance

Requested: fem!reader takes her Will aside to reassure him that everything's going to be okay.

A/N: I don’t know if this was what you had in mind, but I hope you like! Also, I’m so sorry about the wait.

Warning: fluff

Being the only girl in the part kind of sucked. You did what the guys wanted to do, talk about things that were gross. Sometimes you didn’t mind, but sometimes you wished things were different.

But things started to change since Will disappeared. The boys were convinced that Will was alive and they were determined to find him. And you were with them, after all, your feelings for Will never changed.

You loved him since you could remember, and when his body was found, your heart shattered. You always regretted not telling him before it was too late.

But then Hopper and Mrs. Byers found him, while you and everyone fought the demogorgan.

When things started to settle, you promised you’d tell him how you felt. But El showered up again and Max joined the party. And the next thing you knew, you were lighting up the Upside Down with Steve Harrington.

It wasn’t until the dance when you two were alone that you finally blurted out that you liked him. He was surprised to say the least and after a few minutes of awkward silence did he say he felt the same.

That was the start of your relationship. You spent the rest of the school year and summer hanging out with your friends. As you normally do, but this time as Will Byers girlfriend.

You enjoyed every minute of it. But as the first month neared its end, you felt something was going to happen. You weren’t sure what it was but you could tell Will was somehow involved.

And you were proven right when El had a vision about Billy and the Upside Down.

You had tried really hard to get Will to relax, but it wasn’t working. With Dustin’s disappearance and the Billy problem, Will had to focus on that.

“Why are boys so…” you tried off trying to think of the right words.

“Weird?” El supplied.

“Complicated?” Max chimed. You laughed and grabbed something in the supply room. You were trying to set a trap for Billy and get some answers.

“I mean you're not wrong,” you said, “but yeah it’d be nice if you know what they were thinking.”

“Yeah, the world would be in a better place,” Max said, causing the three of you to laugh.

You had finished setting the trap and before you went to find Billy, you took Will aside.

“We need to go,” Will urged, ready to leave. You grabbed his arm softly, making him stop.

“I know. But this will only take a minute,” you pleased. "Plus I miss you.” That felt like a slap, and he turned his attention on you. “You know none of this is your fault, right?”

“But..”

“No buts. I mean it, Will. No one blames you for any of this. It wasn’t your fault that you disappeared, and it wasn’t your fault that it came back last year. And it's not your fault that it's happening now. You know who’s fault it is?”

You paused for a breath and Will nodded, you to finish your thought. Curious to know what you were going to say.

“Some idiots who have no idea how to leave things well enough alone.” You find out later that you were right. But right now you wanted to cheer up your boyfriend. “And i know you won’t believe it yet. But I thought you needed to hear it.”

Will was silent during your little speech, and when you finished he didn’t say anything for a moment. The longer the silence stretched, the more nervous you felt.

Finally, Will’s shoulders relaxed and gave you a smile. “Thanks y/n,” he said, and you could tell he meant it. “Thanks for saying that. I guess I really needed to hear that.”

You beamed and leaned in, kissing his cheek. “Of course. What are girlfriends for?”

“To tell me things like that and kick my ass in board games?” Will teased, only to watch your smile grow wider.

“Duh. speaking of ass kicking, lets kick this things ass,” you said, grabbing the thing Will was holding. Though before you had the chance to leave. Will grabbed your arm and gave you a hug. Which you excited returned.

“Yeah, let's go kick this things ass.”

And with that you left to trap Billy. Sure this thing was far from over, but at least Will knew he had you by his side. And for that, he was thankful.

BONUS

Before shit really hits the fan, you came up with a plan. You told the party what you wanted to do and they agreed to leave the two of you alone.

So that morning you called Will, told him to get ready. “What are you talking about?” he asked, before you could say goodbye.

“It's a surprise.”

“But y/n, we have things to worry about.��

I know and we’ll worry about it tomorrow. Today we don’t need to think about it. Please Will? Just for today?”

With a sigh, Will agreed. You beamed and told him you’ll be over soon.

“So why am I not allowed to think about our impending doom?” Will asked as the two of you made your way through the mall.

“Well, with everything that’s happened and everything that’s going to happen, you deserve a stress free day,” you explained,” plus I wanted to spend the day with my boyfriend.”

Will couldn’t argue with that. So he grabbed your hand and smiled, promising to enjoy the day.

#will byers x reader #will byres #stranger things #reader is female #imagine #will byers imagine #stranger things fic #my writing #prompt #whyrachxl #el #eleven #max mayfield #stranger things imagine

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stephspurs · 3 years

Text

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Hi besties!! here is the long awaited part 9!! I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did whilst writing it!! a big thank you goes to @emwritesfootball for proofing this part & making sure its up to scratch for all of you lovely readers! Let me know what you think babes hehehe!! Love Always, Steph xx

Part 9. | nona parte

word count; 2006. writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. next update; Friday 13/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)! tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

The season kicked off in the middle of August and Amelia had been more than prepared for her first match in the premier league. She spent day after day analysing the players in the first team, introducing them to the magical world of rehearsed tactics. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows for the brilliant girl; she had to learn how to implement the plays coupled with the speed of the game. But so far, so good. Chelsea have been winning and her plays have been working, the boys were getting the hang of it - no matter how apprehensive they were at the start.

Jorgi played a big part in demonstrating the success of the play, performing best in his midfield role to guide the game and direct the change in play to his teammates. By the time they had played a few fixtures, they had really gotten the hang of her approach to set pieces and began to put their trust in the young girl. They were starting to see results and wanted to keep the winning streak going while they could. The fourth fixture in the new season was one that Amelia was looking forward to, personally: Chelsea v Aston Villa, Stamford Bridge, 3pm kick off.

Jack and Amelia had grown closer and closer, FaceTime‘dates’ as Jack would call them, a weekly occurrence. She had spoken to him just as much as she had spoken to Jorgi - and they were still carpooling to and from Cobham together. Her friendship with Jack was full of easy conversation and flirtatious banter, teetering over the line of friendship but being that they were kept physically apart, the friendship line remained largely intact. One person that had drifted even further away from her, despite her believing that it couldn't be possible, was Ben Chilwell.

Every time she walked into a room that he was in, if he didn't have to be there he would immediately leave. Amelia didn’t understand what the problem was. Yeah sure, they were flirty together in Mykonos but they never crossed a line together, no matter how many times the wine went straight to their heads. If anything, she should be the one running away from him. She was the one who sent him a couple of messages here and there that he just opened. She spoke to Mason, Jorgi, Billy Gilmour - who was another one of the boys she had developed a strong friendship with - and all of them insisted they didn’t understand their friend's strange behaviour.

On the evening before the Villa match, Amelia was laying on the couch in her townhouse binge watching yet another docu-series on Netflix when her doorbell rang. This was strange, most people that came past the house these days had their own set of keys (her parents, her brother, Jorgi) or they texted to let her know they were outside. Her townhouse was three stories high, so if she was upstairs on the top level vacuuming the chances of her hearing the door were slim to none. Either way, she got up off of her loveseat and walked to the front door, peeking through the peephole - she lived in London, alone, she wasn’t opening that door until she knew exactly who was on the other side.

______________________________________________________________

“To what do I owe this visit, Benjamin?”

“Hi, Mils.”

“Wow, nickname basis already - I thought only friends called each other by their nicknames.”

“Did you think we weren’t friends?”

“Well, friends don’t treat friends the way you’ve treated me since the evening I left Mykonos.”

With a sigh, Ben looked down at his feet. I did feel a small bit of guilt for that one, but he deserved it. Continuing to find the cracks in the marble step of my door’s threshold more interesting than facing my expression, I took a step back and forced Ben to look up at me.

“Well, are you going to come inside? I’ve got the kettle on and a really good series going that I would like to get back to.”

With a charming smile, Ben took a step forward, took the door handle out of my hand and shut it behind him. Slipping out of his shoes, he followed me down the short hallway to my kitchen and pulled a seat out at the island bench.

“So, really now - why are you here? Nervous about tomorrow?” I questioned as I took two cups out of the cupboard and brewed one tea for him, one coffee for me. 3 years in Italy and coffee in the evening became the norm for me. It was my comfort drink.

“I’m here to apologise for the way I've been acting towards you for the past six weeks. I’ll be honest, I don’t know why I’ve been like this”

“Cut the crap Ben, you know exactly why you’ve been doing it. Now tell me the truth or, as far as I'm concerned, you never came here tonight and tomorrow we will be back to how we were yesterday - you running away from me and me pretending that it doesn't bother me. Even though all it does is bother me.” Not expecting that outburst to come out of me, and to be fair neither did I, Ben looked me in the eye and stayed silent, choosing his next words carefully.

“The first time I saw you, the night you told your brother off in the rec room at St. George’s Park, I thought you were the most determined woman I had ever seen in my life. Not scared of the 30 grown men who were very obviously all on the same side, literally. Then the next time I saw you, after the final match, how you comforted your brother when you were at the highest of highs and he was lower than low, I thought you had more compassion than every person in that stadium put together.”

“When you came to SGP again the next day and delivered the tactical analysis of the game you won, I thought ‘wow she is so intellectually brilliant’. And then when you turned up in Mykonos, all sunkissed and relaxed, sitting next to me and involving me in conversation with my pals but making me feel like you wanted my contribution...I remember it like it was yesterday. Amelia, you smiled at me and my heart did a somersault in my chest.”

“You shut me down outside the club that evening, and when we came back inside I caught the end of your conversation with Jorgi about Fede. Putting two and two together, I understood all that I needed to. The few days after that we carried on like normal. Then, you left and I didn't know if I would ever see you again to be fair. When you messaged me, I got too nervous to reply because I didn't know how to just be your friend. And then when I thought I had finally gotten through a day without thinking about my friend's little sister, you showed up at Cobham as my tactical analyst. I didn’t know what to do Mils, I don't know how to be just your friend when I've had nothing but unfriendly thoughts about you since the first time I saw you command that room of men you had never met in your life.”

The whistle of the kettle ringing out behind me is the only noise filling the kitchen. I’m staring at Ben; he’s staring back at me with nothing but truth behind his eyes and his heart on his sleeve.

“Benj, what you were feeling, what you are feeling is totally valid and I never want you to feel like you can’t share those feelings with me. You’re right, Mykonos changed things for me. What you were feeling was reciprocated, but Ben, I was going back to Italy. At that exact moment, I had no idea I would end up here. I thought I was enjoying a break before another high-intensity season in Italy. I wanted to kiss you so badly at the club that night, but I knew it would only hurt you. I’m used to being hurt, it's a feeling I've grown to expect. But you, you’re too pure to experience the kind of hurt that comes along with knowing you’re making a bad decision, but doing it anyway, because I wanted to be selfish with your heart.”

“Amelia, can I ask you something?” I nodded, holding my breath as I braced myself for the question poised behind his eyes. “If you were in the mood to be selfish, what would have come from that evening?”

“I can probably show you better than I can tell you,”

Walking around the island bench, I pulled the back of Ben’s chair slightly so he pivoted towards me. Standing in between his tracksuit-covered legs, I ran both hands up his arms until I got to his neck and finally beside his face. Threading my fingers through his hair, I pulled his face towards mine and our lips met. It was as soft as a butterfly kiss but as powerful as anything I had ever felt before. His hands wound around my waist and settled themselves on the small of my back before travelling down and giving my backside a gentle caress, forcing a laugh out of my lips and straight into his mouth. Pulling away slightly, so we both had a bit of breathing space to sort out our lightheadedness, Ben spoke his next words very softly.

“I need you to promise me something, Amelia.You need to promise me that you will stop thinking about my heart before your own. I am old enough to make my own decisions, and the decision to ignore you for these past few weeks has been one of the worst ones I've made in a really long time. But I did make it, and it was because I got scared, and I hurt you, and I am so sorry. The decision to come here tonight however, I feel like it more than makes up for that one very very stupid one”

“You’re such a smooth talker, Benj.”

“Say my name again, Mils, you don’t know what it does to me.”

“Down boy, your tea is going cold and I need to find out who killed Sophie in West Cork.Meet me in the lounge.”

A few hours had passed and it was nearing 10pm, well past Amelia’s bed time, but Ben was still sitting on her couch, feet on the table (despite her telling him to remove them) and arm around the back of her shoulders.

“Chilly, I don’t want you to think I'm not interested in you because I so am, I just don’t want to rush into anything. What I left behind in Italy was complicated and heavy; I'm still trying to learn how to exist without him if I'm honest. I want you to just give me the space I need to grow into my own here in the city, if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course it's okay, Mils. From what Jorgi has told me about Fede, I can understand why you want to take it slow now. But please, don’t call me Chilly. My friends call me Chilly, and Mills. I thought I made it clear before that I don’t want to be your friend.”

“To me, you’re Benj. Thank you. Wait - what do you mean what Jorgi has told you about Fede?”

“I may have asked a couple times about you, and for the record, he is team Bamelia.”

“Bamelia? That is the ugliest word I have ever heard. Never use it again.”

“How can it be ugly? It's mostly your name, and nothing associated with you could ever be considered anything less than beautiful.”

“Stop being so smooth Benj, you’re going to make me blush in a minute.”

“Good, can’t wait to see how you could possibly look even cuter than you do right now.”

“That’s enough Benjamin.”

“Okay I’m done now.”

Part 10. | parte dieci

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thatharringrovehoe · 3 years

Text

So I've been playing Dishonored which is my favorite game and this popped into my head so now you all have to suffer with me. (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧

He's so fucking cold. Like he’s been plunged into a lake mid winter and can’t find his way to the surface. Hands shaking, Billy sifts clumsily through the box of his mother’s things he keeps hidden in the back of his closet. He's found that if he thinks about the good times, picnics at the beach under the California sun, the thing oozing it's way though his brain losses just a bit of it's grip. Leaves Billy with enough motor function to stumble around his bedroom, trying to find the right pieces. And fucking hell it’s been so long since he's done this. He can remember helping his Ma when he was little, chubby fingers clenched tight in her cotton sundress as she arranged the items on the table just right. Pricked her finger to draw sigils in a language long forgotten, her voice a soft cadence through the bedroom as she hummed Billy’s favorite lullaby. No words, just a beautiful mournful thing. Humming a song of grieving loss. Billy doesn't know why he likes it so much.

“Remember baby. When you offer your gifts they have to be special. Well loved. Something that brings you joy every time you use it.”

His mother kept a pair of earrings on the cloth covered table. She never wore them when his father was home. Took them out and put them back on the little rickety stand in the back of her closet every day before he came back from work. Dangling silver daggers with the onyx beads. Billy shoved one straight through his left earlobe when he turned fifteen and has barely taken it out since.

His Ma told him that everything he built his shrine with had to mean something. Had to be something he treasured. From the fabric to the stand itself. So Billy tried his best. Draped his best leather jacket over the milk crate that held all of his favorite hair products. Placed his Ma's Fleetwood Mac album next to one of his mother's silver earrings (the one he always wears), arranged as neatly as he can manage. He’d had to prick his thumb seven times because to his dawning horror it kept healing over. Just another tally mark towards something being really fucking wrong. And he remembers the warehouse. Can still feel the slimy caustic sludge being pumped down his throat by a fucking tentacle. But he’d hoped it had been a dream, a nightmare from reading to many Lovecraft novels. Billy curses as he slices open his thumb for what feels like the millionth time.

Apparently not.

He's drawn the characters just how he remembers. His mother had made him practice every day, showing him each and every shape and line, drawn in colorful crayon. She gave him a cookie every time he got them right. Never hung them up on the fridge though. Didn't want his father to see.

He can feel the shadow creeping through his blood, dragging it’s claws against his veins. It might not know exactly what he’s doing yet, but it must be able to feel the intention. Billy thinks of ocean waves and a soft hand running through his curls. Fights the pull at the back of his mind to just give in. To sleep. His hands shake harder.

Fuck, where is it?! Billy combs through records and trinkets, a bottle of her perfume. He’s desperately hoping it didn't get lost in the move because his mother never taught him how to make one. Hell, he's pretty certain that he wouldn't be able to find the pieces he needs in Hawkins anyway. Not like Melvalds has a supernatural voodoo isle.

Then finally, finally he finds it. Lifting up his mother’s satin scarf it comes tumbling out to land on the floor with a clatter. Bleached white and beaten smooth by the waves, it's about the size of a sand dollar. Billy picks it up, places it in the palm of his hand. He still remembers the day he found it out on the shore. Washed up between some sea glass, the leather bindings still somehow soft even soaked with salt water. Etched with symbols and shapes Billy will never understand. When Billy showed it to his mother an unreadable expression crossed her face. It was that evening she showed him her shrine.

The rune seems to hum against his skin, an otherworldly song from far away ghosting past his ears. The thing that’s trying to Shanghai Billy’s brain writhes. It's angry, but more than that it’s fucking terrified and Billy has never been more sure of anything in his life. This was a good idea. But his limbs are getting colder, heavier. Whatever this evil piece of shit is it doesn’t like what Billy’s doing. He has to fight against the deadening of his limbs, crawling towards his shitty attempt at a shrine from his place on the floor. His vision is starting to grow dark when he finally clutches on to the milk crate, placing the rune between the earring and his cassette tape. And he knows that there's no guarantee. That whatever his Ma prayed to every night never shielded her from Neil’s fists, didn’t do a damn thing as the cancer slowly drained her down to nothing. That sometimes (most times) when someone would call out to the void the only thing they heard in return was their own disappointment. But he's got no other options. This is his trump card. His last resort. If this hocus pocus bullshit doesn’t work then Billy is up shit creek without a paddle. With a frustrated shout against the nightmare pulling him in, Billy begs.

“Please! Fuck, help me! I'll do anything, c’mon just- please!”

The air in Billy’s bedroom all of a sudden seems to shudder. The shadows flicker and meld together, reaching outwards. The sound of dry fall leaves blowing in the wind, a wail of a thousand dying worlds ricochets off the walls. Then nothing. Billy scrunches his eyes shut against the sting of tears. Fuck, of course it didn’t work. Story of his life. He called for help and just like always it doesn't mean shit. No one is coming to save him.

“Well well well. Certainly been a long time since someone summoned me like that. Very old school.”

Billy’s eyes snap open, the surprise and adrenaline enough to fight the heaving weight of his limbs to raise his head. And there, perched on his shitty milk crate shrine, sits the most beautiful boy he's ever seen. He's got hair the color of soil after it rains. High cheekbones and full lips, milky white skin dotted with a constellation of beauty marks. Billy didn't know what he expected but it certainly wasn't this. The boy god is dressed in a swanky leather coat the color of charcoal with pants to match. Eyes like an oil spill, inky black and endless. With a good look at Billy, they narrow dangerously.

“I thought I fucking told you not to touch this world. You want a repeat of last time?”

Whatever deity he summoned looks pissed as hell. Did he not do it right? Maybe the items weren’t good enough. That would be just his luck. He's so confused he almost doesn’t notice it right away. The shadow slowly working it’s way through his body has stopped, retreated a little even.

“I-... I don't know what you’re talking about. Please, there's something wrong with me. Something got put inside of me and I need it out. Please, help me.”

Billy hasn’t begged since his Ma was takin her last breath in that damn hospice bed. Didn't see the point when it always got you nowhere. But now he can't make himself stop. Cuz he's never been this scared before. The things this monster inside him wants him to do. It's so strong, like he’s fighting a steam roller. He's got no hope on his own.

The boy sitting on his best leather jacket stills. Cocks his head to the side slightly, considering. Then those pretty pink lips are spreading out into a gleeful smirk. Slides off the shrine to settle on his knees in front of Billy. Reaches out his hand to cup Billy’s jaw gentle enough it makes him want to cry.

“You can't get a good enough hold of this one can you? Interesting. Tell me trouble maker, what's your name?”

That voice, deep and ethereal, seems to echo from all around him. He can feel it vibrate in his bones. He wants, no, needs to answer.

“Billy. Billy Hargrove.”

The boy smiles now, all gleaming pearly whites. If Billy looks long enough reality starts to flicker. And for just a second all he can see is teeth sharp like knives in a Cheshire grin. There for a moment and gone in a flash. The hand on his jaw tightens just the slightest fraction.

“Well Billy Hargrove. You seem to find yourself in quite the predicament. That parasite sucking on your soul is an old acquaintance of mine. He's one nasty little shit.”

If a brain washing shadow monster could feel indignant he’s pretty sure that’s what's happening now. Whatever was hijacking Billy's mind has curled up somewhere tight, sunk it’s teeth in deep. Cornered like a threatened animal.

“Please, I’ll do anything you want. I can’t… I can’t fight it. It's too much.”

There’s enough tears leakin down his face that it's soaking the front of his shirt. The boy is giving him this look, almost amused. The longer he holds Billy’s jaw the more the monster losses his grip, and Billy is ready to do anything at this point. Because that thing stuck to his brain wants him to find people. Feed it people. Wants Billy to drink all the chemicals in the supply shed at the pool. Told Billy that if he tried to fight it would take Max first and he can't let that happen.

The boy seems to come to a decision, grabs Billy’s hands to help him shakily to this feet. He doesn’t let go even when they’re both standing.

“You know there’s not many who can fight his hold for this long. I'm impressed.”

He steps forward until his chest is practically pressed up against Billy's. He smells like ozone and smoke, bottomless black eyes trained on stormy blue. Reaches up to tangle his fingers into Billy’s curls, sending tingles across his scalp. Smiles wider at the small noise that escapes Billy's throat.

“I'll help you Billy Hargrove. But in return, you have to do something for me.”

Billy's nodding before he can even really register what’s being said. Anything. He'd do whatever this pretty boy asked as long as he keeps touching Billy like this. Gentle, with a reverence no one has ever bothered to show.

“I need you to kick this little shit back into the hole he crawled out of. Can you do that for me Billy? I wanna see how your story pans out trouble maker. Wanna see what you do when someone gives you a chance.”

Billy nods again, breathless. The boy chuckles, the sound saccharine. Like warm honey dripping down his spine.

“Gunna have to use your words baby.”

Billy swallows, the click of his dry throat loud in the warm personal bubble they’ve created.

“Yes. Yeah. I’ll do it. Whatever you want pretty boy, please.”

It comes out a whisper but the boy hears it all the same. The boy smiles bright, pulls Billy forward. Soft warm lips press against his own and Billy is floating. He's never been kissed like this before. Slow and deep, the boy's tongue pressing in to curl and slide. Stuff him full. Billy's shaking for a whole other reason now. Reaches out to grip the boy's coat, cool to the touch where Billy is burning. Fire rushing through his veins, and he's already so close just from this. Whimpers brokenly into the kiss.

The boy pulls him in impossibly closer, slots his thigh between Billy’s legs, pushes up up up. And Billy is right fucking there, grinds down as he swaps spit with an old god in his shitty bedroom with the peeling yellow paint and the door that locks from the outside. Can feel the tell tale tingle spreading behind his navel.

“ ‘m gunna cum! Fuck, more please!” Billy mumbles curses into the kiss, breath hitching as his balls draw tight. The boy smiles against his mouth, yanks his curls back to bite into the meat of his neck and Billy’s gone, pulsing rope after rope of cum into his underwear.

“Oh my- .. Fuuuuuck. Yes! Uhhhnn!” He's panting like a dog as he slumps forward into the boys shoulder. Gentle fingers card through his hair as aftershocks zap up and down his body. A kiss is pressed behind his ear, a soft warmth flooding his core. He can't feel the shadow anywhere.

“So good for me sweet thing. Makes me want to keep you.”

It's said so quiet, like the boy doesn’t intend for it to be heard. Billy presses his face into his neck. There's no heartbeat under the boy's skin.

“You could. I want you to.” Whoever this is, whatever he is, he came for Billy. Answered his literal cry for help when no one else did. He doesn't know what he has to offer but he wants to give this impossible boy everything.

The boy in question hums. Brings Billy's left hand up to kiss the back of it. His skin feels hot under his lips, bordering on uncomfortable. Like stepping on sun scorched pavement. When the boy pulls back there’s a tattoo on his hand. A strange design that looks vaguely like a compass. It's the same mark as the one on the middle of the rune sitting behind them.

“I haven't given my mark to someone quite so special in a while. Try not to disappoint me Billy Hargrove.”

The boy goes to pull away but Billy still has his hand clenched tight on his coat. Panic wells up in his chest. Doesn't want to end whatever this is quite yet.

“Wait! What’s-…what's your name?” Which is a valid question he thinks. And probably one he should have asked at some point before he started grinding his dick on the guys leg. Oh well.

“I've had many names, none if which would hold any significance for you. Call me what you want trouble maker. I'll be there when you need me.”

Billy believes him. Then between one blink and the next the boy is gone, tendrils of dissipating smoke the only evidence he was ever there. A deep voice whispers from nowhere and everywhere.

“Ask your sister about the monsters in the woods.”

On the shrine the only thing that remains is the rune, both his gifts having apparently been accepted. Billy gives a hysterical bark of laughter at the thought of some higher being listening to Fleetwood Mac somewhere out in the void. It gives him an idea. He drags his lips across the fresh mark on his hand, mumbles into his skin.

“Thanks Stevie.”

#i don't know what this is but here ya go!#Outsider!Steve #Billy Hargrove #harringrove #dishonored au #yes Billy gets powers but i haven't decided what they are yet #that hoe writes #stranger things #Neil you better watch out my boy has a literal old god for a boyfriend now

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onlydylanobrien · 3 years

Text

Dylan O'Brien - NME Magazine Interview

Dylan O’Brien: “I was in this transitional phase – close to a quarter-life crisis”

From YA heartthrob to legitimate leading man – how the 'Maze Runner' star hit his stride after a whirlwind decade

Definitely!” hoots Dylan O’Brien when NME asks if he still has to audition. “I’m not Tom fucking Hanks, bro.” He’s clearly amused by our question, but forgive us for thinking the 29-year-old actor gets cast on reputation alone. A decade into his career, and he’s making an impressive transition from teen TV star and YA franchise hero to charismatic leading man.

New York-born O’Brien cut his teeth on MTV’s hit Teen Wolf series, before landing the lead in the Maze Runner film trilogy based on James Dashner’s hugely popular novels. Leading a band of bright young things that included ex-Skins tearaway Kaya Scodelario, Game Of Thrones’ Thomas Brodie-Sangster and Will Poulter, he honed his craft while racking up nearly a billion dollars at the box office. “My career is a constant acting class,” says O’Brien. “To be able to do the Maze Runner movies simultaneously with Teen Wolf was amazing in terms of getting in reps and working my [acting] muscle.”

Now for the sometimes tricky bit. Many actors struggle with the post-breakout period, but O’Brien is making it look easy so far. This year’s Netflix hit Love and Monsters proved he can carry an old-school family adventure, and new film Flashback (out next week) reveals an appetite for weirder, more cerebral work. He stars as Fred Fitzell, a young man reluctant to buckle down to life as a nine-to-fiver with a boring corporate job and a long-term girlfriend (Mindhunter‘s Hannah Gross). When he runs into a freaky-looking acquaintance from his teenage years, Fred becomes obsessed with finding an old high-school friend he used to drop a mind-bending experimental drug called Mercury with. It’s difficult to say any more without entering spoiler territory, but Flashback is a wild ride underpinned by the idea that we can exist in several realities at once. Even if you follow every plot twist, you might not fully understand the end. “Oh, it’s definitely a headfuck,” O’Brien agrees. “There’s not totally an answer to figure out. There’s a lot of different things that people can take from it.”

Speaking over Zoom from his LA home, O’Brien is bright, thoughtful and really good fun to talk to, especially when he relaxes into the interview, but he clearly knows where his line between public and private lies. When he first read the Flashback script, written by the film’s director Christopher MacBride, his “mind was blown” by just how much he related to Fred. “I felt like I was in this transitional phase of my life that was, you know, sort of close to a quarter-life crisis type thing,” he says. “For whatever reason, it was like me and this script were meant to be. I remember reading it and thinking: ‘I am this guy right now.'”

“There were a lot of things in my personal life that were neglected for a while”

When we ask why O’Brien felt as though he had reached a “transitional phase”, he gives an answer that’s vague but not exactly evasive. For understandable reasons, he doesn’t mention the incredibly traumatic motorcycle accident he sustained while shooting the final Maze Runner film in March 2016. O’Brien suffered severe trauma to the brain and said in 2017 that he underwent extensive facial reconstructive surgery after the accident “broke most of the right side of my face”. Tellingly, he’s never really revealed what happened on set or how it affected him.

Today, O’Brien dances around the details of the accident and other issues he was dealing with at the time, but doesn’t shy away from discussing his inner conflict. “You know, it was a lot of personal things combined with at-a-point-in-my-career things,” he says after a brief pause. He says he’d have been going through some of this stuff anyway, simply because of his age, but it sounds as though success intensified it all. “It was like this whole fucking storm of shit,” he continues. “I was simultaneously so fulfilled and happy about these, like, otherworldly and surreal things that I had experienced in terms of where my career had brought me. I had all this confidence and fulfilment and beautiful people [in my life] – such amazing things to experience at a young age. But at the same time, there were a lot of things in my personal life that were unchecked and sort of neglected for a while.”

O’Brien says that in time, he realised he had to “stop for a second” and “re-explore how I wanted my life to look going forward”. In fairness, you can see why he needed a breather: his career took off while he was still a teenager. After his family moved from New Jersey to Los Angeles County when he was 12, O’Brien contemplated a career as a sports broadcaster – his Twitter bio still bills him as a “no longer suffering Mets fan” – then began posting YouTube videos as moviekidd826. A funny, slickly edited skit titled ‘How to Prepare for the SAT in 45 seconds’, shared when he was just 17, shows he was a born performer and storyteller. YouTube success led to him getting a manager, but his breakthrough role in Teen Wolf still came out of the blue. At the time, he was treading water at a local community college and taking auditions on the side.

Still, he has since taken a rather fatalistic view of this career-making moment. “It’s totally weird because, when I think about it now, I don’t see how it could have happened any other way. I can’t picture myself doing anything else now,” he told Collider in 2011. “It was really sudden and a little random, and not provoked by anything. It was just out of nowhere. It wasn’t my intentional doing.” Today, O’Brien summarises his skyscraper career trajectory succinctly. “I guess I just graduated high school and started acting,” he says. “And then I felt like I was just flying by the seat of my pants and never got a chance to stop.” Thankfully, straight-out-the-blocks Hollywood success hasn’t taken away his sense of perspective. When I say how easy social media makes it to compare yourself unfavourably to others, O’Brien jumps in: “Yeah, that’s very true. I was watching the Billie Eilish doc the other day, and I was like, I’ve done nothing. I’m not an artist at all!”

“No one thought ‘Love and Monsters’ was going to be good!”

O’Brien is also self-deprecating when he talks about being cast in Flashback, suggesting it happened because he had such an intense connection with Fred. “I was honestly like, ‘Who is watching me right now?’ That is the best way I can describe how I was feeling when I came across this script,” he says. “Chris [MacBride, director] and I had this conversation that went so well in terms of [my] understanding this script that I think he’d sent around a lot and [that] very commonly wasn’t understood. I think Chris has even said that the night before shooting, he suddenly had this thought, like, ‘Wait, do I even think he’s a good actor?'”

Though O’Brien has firmly ring-fenced elements of his private life, he’s actually pretty frank about his acting vehicles. He readily admits he was expecting a snobbish response to Love and Monsters, a CGI-heavy hybrid of post-apocalyptic action and romcom that dropped on Netflix in April and topped the streamer’s daily most-watched list. “It means so much that Love and Monsters has gotten the response that it’s gotten,” O’Brien says. “No one thought this movie was going to be good.” His blunt honesty makes me laugh out loud. “No one did though!” he says in response. “And so, fuck that. You know, most of the people who say something to me about the movie, they’re like: ‘I watched Love and Monsters, and it was… good?’ And honestly, that just cracks me up.” For obvious reasons, we hastily decide not to share our response to the film – namely, that it was a whole lot better than expected.

In Love and Monsters, O’Brien plays Joel, a survivor of a so-called “monsterpocalypse” that has bumped humans to the bottom of the food chain. Though he’s known in his colony as a bit of a coward, Joel sets off on a treacherous 80-mile journey to find his high school sweetheart Aimee (Iron Fist‘s Jessica Henwick), which means evading the hungry clutches of various supersize grizzlies including a giant monster-frog hiding in a suburban pond. It’s a simple but pretty out-there premise that wouldn’t work if O’Brien’s performance was even slightly condescending. Instead, his unselfconscious sincerity really sells a film that has as much in common with the family-oriented Robin Williams movie Night at the Museum as darker fare like The Walking Dead.

His obvious affection for the project really comes across during our interview today. “When I read the script, I just thought it was so sweet and funny and smart and unique, but at the same time reminiscent of all these movies that don’t really get made any more,” he says. That’s a fair point: Love and Monsters is neither a fail-safe superhero movie nor a slice of classy Oscar bait. “And when they were talking about how to market this movie, it was so funny hearing all these conversations like, ‘How do we actually get people to watch it?'” he adds. “But that’s a big part of the reason I wanted to do this movie: because it felt like something I missed seeing.”

“I’m lucky to be surrounded by people who want to make something out of love”

So in a way, Love and Monsters was a risk for an actor seeking to establish himself outside of a bankable movie franchise and a hit TV show. O’Brien has only made four films since his final Maze Runner outing in 2018, and insists he hasn’t been tactical with his choices. “I don’t have anyone saying, ‘We need to get you in an Oscar vehicle’, or any of that kind of shit,” he says. “I’m really lucky to be surrounded by people who think like me: that you should do what you’re drawn to, and make something out of love.”

He’s recently finished shooting a mysterious crime thriller called The Outfit in London with Mark Rylance. Directed and co-written by Graham Moore, who won an Oscar for his screenplay to Alan Turing biopic The Imitation Game, O’Brien calls it “quite possibly one of the most special pieces of writing I’ve ever experienced”. He first read the script on a plane and says he “actually stood up and clapped” when he got to the end. Considering O’Brien probably wasn’t flying Ryanair, this reaction presumably attracted a few baffled glances.

Anyway, it must be pretty intimidating walking onto set with Rylance, a multi-award-winning actor revered by his peers – Al Pacino once said he “speaks Shakespeare as if it was written for him the night before” – but it sounds as though O’Brien took it all in stride. He says he’s confident in his abilities, but admits to having a slight wobble whenever he begins a new project. “I’m always sort of re-questioning everything – like, ‘Can I even act?'” he says. “But I think there’s something very natural about that. I think even Rylance could relate to that feeling. Acting is like starting a new year at school every single time.”

At this point in his career, O’Brien has made peace with the fact that some people will have preconceptions about him based on what he’s known for: Maze Runner and Teen Wolf. “People will put you in a box no matter what,” he says. “There was definitely a time when that would get to me, especially when it felt like somebody had a perspective on me that in my soul, I just felt wasn’t accurate.” Still, there’s no doubt he wants to show us what’s really in his soul with more films like Flashback. “If anything,” he adds bullishly, “it just makes me think: ‘Right, I’m really gonna show them now’.”

‘Flashback’ is out on digital platforms from June 4

#dylan o'brien #love and monsters press #flashback press #the outfit press

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themurphyzone · 3 years

Text

PatB Oneshot: Heartbeat

Based on @wimsiecal‘s wonderful Brain Meets Brawn AU...I might have a thing. for monsters...it’s bad...

There are some ideas from @thecutiewhoyaksandsnacks here too, namely Brain holding Pinky’s wrist for his heartbeat.

Summary: Brain Meets Brawn AU where Pinky drinks Dr. Jekyll’s potion.

AO3 Link

London was such a fun playground!

The horse-drawn carriages, the chimney sweepers, the marketplace!

And there was the lovely silhouette of Big Ben in the distance! Vaguely, he heard a voice call that he was going in the wrong direction, that he was supposed to hold the giant doohickey, that he was supposed to stop dilly-dallying and pay attention-

But why would he wanna do any of that? It all sounded so boring! He just wanted to play!

Bounding into the street on all fours, he took in the gray skies, coughing as a nearby factory spewed smoke from its stacks. No wonder the people all seemed drab and lifeless if all they had were gray skies and smoke.

They needed some fun fun silly-willy in their lives!

There was a man with long, funny sideburns walking arm-in-arm with a woman in a big, poofy dress! They were such a lovely couple, and they’d be perfect to play house with!

He bounded up to the couple, tail wagging in excitement at the very thought of having new playmates.

“Hellooooooo!” he said, and his voice was a lot hoarser than he thought. It was a lot harder to get the words out of his throat too. “Wannaaaaa plaaay?”

The woman screamed, and the man threw his arm in front of her.

Oh, did they want to scream instead? Okay, that was fun too!

He screamed right back.

The couple fled across the bridge, towards the other side of London over the Thames, shouting for a constable. Why did they want a constable? Unless...oh, the fashion police probably wanted him cause he wasn’t wearing anything except green fur.

He could’ve sworn his fur was a different color before this, but he couldn’t quite remember. Oh well! What’s the point in worrying over something like that?

The voice called again, harsh and scolding in that why-aren’t-you-doing-as-you’re-told sort of way. Too many big words. He didn’t want to hear big words. He only wanted to have fun!

Further down the road, a horse-drawn carriage rattled down the uneven pavement. The horses moved in sync, their hooves clip-clopping against stone. They were both large brown horses with white stripes on their foreheads, a short man with a pinched face driving them towards the bridge.

Horses were lovely, friendly animals. They’d play with him!

Clapping his hands with glee, he ran after them, nearly bowling over a group of children in his haste. They immediately scattered, yelling something about green monsters.

Once he asked the horses to play, maybe he could find that group of children again. He’d never heard of the green monster game before, but he definitely wanted to try it out!

The pathway was narrow, so he climbed on top of the stone archway that formed the sides of the bridge and switched to all fours. The horses trotted along at a steady pace, and he quickly overtook them, dropping in front of the carriage just as they reached the other side of the bridge.

He crouched down with his tail wagging, but before he could ask if they wanted to play, the horses reared up and batted the air with their front hooves. The short man screamed as he flicked the reins in an attempt to get the horses under control, but the horses shot forward instead, nearly tipping the carriage on its side.

He barely leapt out of their way in time, and the horses dragged the carriage past him and through the streets, ignoring the coachman’s shouts for them to slow down.

They didn’t want to play either.

Nobody did.

A raw, unfamiliar feeling settled into his stomach. It bubbled up to his chest, his entire body trembling. He didn’t like it. This wasn’t fun.

Why didn’t anyone want to play with him?

He screamed, sending an entire crowd scurrying for cover.

“That’s him! That’s the monster, constable!” a woman yelled before fainting in her husband’s arms. It was the couple who’d fled from him earlier.

A tall young man in a blue uniform broke free of the crowd, his arm quivering as he raised his billy club. His face was pale as he slowly approached. But he didn’t seem bad. Just looked like he needed to sit down for a bit.

He stretched one long arm and pushed the constable down. The constable’s eyes widened with terror, and he yelped as his bottom hit the pavement hard.

He hadn’t meant to push the guy down with that much force.

The crowd shuffled back, their whispers loud and accusing. Many watched him with fear in their eyes.

He whimpered and carefully held out his clawed fingers to see if the man was hurt. This wasn’t what he wanted. He just wanted someone to play with.

Before he could touch the man’s shoulder, he heard heavy boots thunder against stone. The constable beside him suddenly shot up, nearly knocking himself in the head with his own club. A red-faced man with an equally red mustache stormed across the bridge. His blue uniform was crisp with hardly a wrinkle.

He squeezed something small and white in one gloved hand while gripping his billy club with the other hand.

“OI, GET OFF YOUR LAZY BUM AND DEAL WITH THAT CREATURE ALREADY, HENRY!” the newcomer bellowed. Henry fumbled for his club while trying to stand. As he scolded poor Henry, he lost his grip on the small white thing, who tumbled to the ground in a heap.

It wasn’t a thing. No, it was a very familiar mouse.

“Pinky?” he murmured, rubbing his large head as he sat up.

Though just a tiny voice, the fog in his mind began to clear, and he remembered things like tomorrow nights and worlds and clocks. And with all that was a name.

His name.

And another too, one that belonged to his best friend in the whole world.

“Buh-raaaaaain?” Pinky said, and it was hard to get the word out when it should’ve flowed off his tongue like butter.

And there was another word too, one that brought him much joy.

“Naaaaaarrrrf,” Pinky warbled, and it was finally a word that came easy to him. It was simple and right, like a lost friend he was just reconnecting with after being apart for so long.

Brain sighed, and Pinky giggled at his funny scowl. “Of course you’d retain your nonsensical vocabulary.”

How he could sound disappointed and relieved at the same time, Pinky didn’t know. But he was here, and that was all that mattered in the end.

Pinky gently pressed the side of his finger against Brain’s cheek. Even one finger was much bigger than Brain. He was just so itty-bitty, like the spider who climbed up the waterspout!

Brain’s face turned tomato-red. “Not in public, Pinky!” he hissed, trying to shove Pinky’s finger away from his face, though he was too small to accomplish that. He stumbled with that particular action, wincing as his hand flew to a spot just above his left hip.

Though Pinky didn’t see why he couldn’t show affection, he removed his finger from Brain’s cheek. Brain quickly glanced at the crowd, but they were much too focused on how the mustached constable was berating the younger one for not doing his job properly.

The younger constable had gone paler, if that was even possible.

Brain flicked his finger. Pinky laid his head on the pavement, turning a large ear toward the smaller mouse.

“I would’ve caught up sooner, but that brutish oaf of a constable captured me,” Brain said, gripping the outer edge of Pinky’s ear as he spoke. “He knows we’re...associates, and unsuccessfully tried to interrogate me for any information I knew about you. I, of course, gave nothing away about my plans for Big Ben. Speaking of which, we’ve been delayed for too long. No more...ow, no more distractions, Pinky.”

There was a tiny hitch in Brain’s voice. The one that always appeared if he was hurt and trying to hide it so he could move on with a plan.

Pinky stood up so quickly that Brain was left dangling from his ear, feet kicking out in an attempt to find solid ground. Carefully, Pinky brought one hand up to his ear, securing Brain in the palm of his hand before bringing up to eye level.

“Enough, Pinky. Let’s depart before-what in Ptolemy’s name are you doing?” Brain protested as Pinky gently pushed him down, using his free hand to check Brain over injuries.

He rolled Brain onto his side. He winced even though Pinky used the lightest of taps above his left hip.

There was a purple bruise, visible against the white fur.

Hurt. Brain was hurt.

Fog clouded his mind once again, and this time, it was red. The city was blanketed in a crimson haze.

Part of him feared it. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before, this deep urge to hurt and maim and kill.

It was wrong. It was evil.

But the urges only grew stronger.

Hurt Brain. Make man pay. Make man suffer!

He growled and doubled over, and he felt something slip out of his hand. Something important, but he didn’t remember what.

There were scary noises coming from his throat, loud and ominous and terrifying.

“He’s dangerous!”

“Kill him!”

“No! Can’t you idiots understand you’re only agitating him?”

That last voice was the loudest and clearest of all, though it was quickly lost in the cacophony.

Something struck his back multiple times.

“Why isn’t this working?” the constable screeched. The billy club thumped against thick, green fur. But the blow didn’t hurt at all. His fur was too thick.

“S-sir, m-maybe the little big-headed guy is right?” Henry stammered. “Wh-what if you make him mad?”

But the older constable didn’t listen, though he gave up trying to break through the thick fur. His sharp gaze fixated on a small, white-furred mouse.

“Sympathizer,” he snarled, as the mouse hurled long, big-worded insults at the crowd. He didn’t notice the constable’s heavy footsteps, the raised club, the shadow falling across him-

Hurt Brain! Make man pay! Make man suffer!

The mantra once again encompassed his mind, his hand striking the pavement behind Brain just in time to block the club with his wrist. Brain leapt back at the noise, clutching his zigzagged tail close to his body to protect it.

His bare wrist throbbed, unprotected by thick fur.

But he didn’t care.

Hurt Brain! Make man pay! Make man suffer!

He roared, and the constable’s mouth opened in a soundless scream as he dropped his club. Drawing himself up to full height, he towered over the man and snatched him up by the waist. His hand wrapped around the man’s chest, claws digging into his uniform.

The man whimpered, frozen to the spot as he stared right into sharp, long fangs.

You hurt Brain! You hurt friend!

He snarled, claws tightening, pricking the man’s skin. Just a little more...sink the tips in…

The man begged for mercy.

Oh, now he’d beg when it was his own life on the line? He didn’t deserve mercy at all.

He squeezed. The man’s eyes bugged out of his head, his limbs stiff and useless.

Stop this! A voice inside pleaded. This isn’t right!

Shut up! he snarled, and the man made a pathetic, muffled noise.

He wouldn’t be weak ever again. From this point on, he’d be strong enough to protect Brain from the humans.

In the corner of his eye, someone moved. He snarled in their direction, warning them to stay back or else.

The movement stopped. But he was still being watched.

Irritated, he turned to whoever dared to interrupt.

And he saw loose, drooping ears. Unsure hands caught between reaching out and protecting a soft, vulnerable body.

A pair of rose-pink eyes that were round and wide with fear, shining with a sadness from deep within.

Pinky? A trembling mouth whispered. Nobody else heard.

The red haze tainting his vision lifted. Within his claws, the man choked for breath.

Pinky dropped him.

The man crumpled to the ground, and the crowd fearfully watched Pinky. Henry dragged the man away, several people breaking off the staredown to check the man over for injuries.

He...he just wanted him to stop hurting Brain. He didn’t mean to almost kill the man!

He tried to apologize, tried to say sorry, but it wouldn’t come out. Why wouldn’t it come out?

Why was it so hard to say anything?

Only one thing came to mind.

He ran.

All he did was hurt everyone. All he did was hurt Brain.

o-o-o-o-o

Pinky ran until he was completely out of breath. Maybe it was a cowardly move, maybe he should’ve owned up, but some instinct told him to flee before he was attacked with fire and pitchforks.

He took all the twists and turns he could, trying not to think about anyone he nearly bowled over in his path.

What’s one more person? some dark part of him chuckled.

A howl tore from Pinky’s throat, the only protest he could make from that bad, evil voice. He didn’t want anything to do with it ever again.

He came across an empty alley, surrounded by tall buildings that blotted out what little natural light trickled into the depths of the city. He could crawl into the darkness and never hurt anyone else.

It was perfect.

He collapsed on his stomach, too exhausted to move to the farthest spot in the alley. Then he tucked all his limbs in so he wouldn’t hurt anybody. As he curled his tail around himself, he felt something odd on the tip.

Did he catch it on something?

He turned to look, finding Brain balancing on the crook of his elbow, clutching the tip of Pinky’s tail against his chest. They stared at each other for a long moment, Pinky’s tail sliding out of Brain’s grip.

“Buh-raaaaaaain?” Pinky asked. His words just weren’t coming out right.

“I grabbed your tail when you fled,” Brain explained, awkwardly shuffling his feet against Pinky’s fur. He winced and rubbed his left side, where the constable had bruised him. “Um, how’s your...condition?”

“Hurrrrrrts,” Pinky whimpered. It hurt to even force that out.

Worry flashed in Brain’s eyes, and he patted the thick fur on Pinky’s arm. Pinky couldn’t feel the soothing motion at all. “Pinky, you don’t have to worry about it. Nobody’s dead, so-”

But they were still hurt because of him!

Pinky couldn’t tell Brain that. It was too long and he could barely say single words.

He wanted to thrash around, to take it out on everything he could reach, but he dug his claws into the ground underneath himself instead, letting the asphalt take the brunt of the scary anger that overtook him.

The feeling soon passed.

Brain’s ears drooped. “That was foolish of me,” he mumbled, not meeting Pinky’s eyes.

And there was silence. Pinky cried, too afraid to move. What if he hurt Brain? He didn’t bother wiping the tears away. Brain made some odd sounds, like he wanted to speak words of comfort but couldn’t.

Then he settled for pondering quietly to himself.

“Show me your injured wrist, Pinky,” Brain said, in a tone that left no room for argument.

Obediently, Pinky stretched out his arm.

Through the tears that fell fast and free, Pinky watched Brain crawl down his arm and into his palm. Sitting there like he wasn’t surrounded by claws that could hurt him.

Brain carefully pushed on the bare skin, watching Pinky as he did so. Truth be told, it didn’t hurt much. Then Brain pressed two fingers on a spot below Pinky’s thumb.

“Strong beat,” Brain murmured, like he was trying to assure himself along with Pinky. “Means your heart’s good. That you’re here. With me.”

Brain looked up, and he was crying too.

Brain truly thought so? After all Pinky did?

“Heart’s...good?” Pinky repeated, carefully rubbing Brain’s damp cheek with his thumb.

“In a purely anatomical sense, of course,” Brain coughed. “And what’s more, I...I shouldn’t have put you through this.”

Brain pushed Pinky’s thumb away and slid off his hand, turning his back to Pinky, afraid to let him see his face.

“...I’m sorry.”

With those two simple words, an entire burden lifted off Pinky’s shoulders. Easier to move and breathe and talk. No more worrying about claws and hurting someone with a strength nobody should have.

Snowy white fur replaced green. No more claws and fangs. A size where he could properly wrap Brain in a hug and tell him everything would be okay.

Shedding the last of his extra height and muscle, Pinky walked up to Brain, resting his jaw against the top of Brain’s head like he’d done so many times before.

“Poit,” Pinky whispered, wrapping his arms around Brain. He was careful to avoid the bruise. “It’s okay, Brain.”

Gently, Pinky took Brain’s wrist in his hand. There was a sharp intake of breath from Brain, like he couldn’t believe Pinky was at a normal mouse’s height now. Pinky felt the skin just below Brain’s thumb, resting his fingers just over Brain’s pulse.

It was a strong, steady heartbeat.

“Good heart. And you’re here with me too,” Pinky said.

“...I’ll concoct an antidote when we get back to the lab,” Brain whispered. For once, he didn’t shove Pinky off. Instead, he turned around and nuzzled into Pinky’s chest, clutching his fur tightly like he was afraid Pinky would leave if he let go.

In the distance, Big Ben chimed four.

#pinky and the brain #brain meets brawn au #patb fanfiction #hello my mind's monster obsession we meet again

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