*In The Upside Down*

*In the upside down*

Eddie: So uh, if we survive this, do you maybe wanna- idk-see a movie or something?

Y/N: Are you really asking me out rn?!

Eddie: W-Well I just thought with the VERY possible chance of sudden HORRIFIC DEATH, yeah, I’ll shoot my shot.

Eddie:

Y/N:

Y/N (blushing): Pick me up at 7.

Eddie (ecstatic): *throws fists in the air*

Steve: W-What the hell is happening?!

Robin: Teenage Romance.

More Posts from Hobisfavoritespritecan and Others

BRAD PITT

BRAD PITT

Brad Pitt:

Bike Rides and Cigarettes: Bike riding with your husband + shared cigarette + a cute bookstore = the perfect date in Paris.

(Romance/Fluff)

Cliff Booth:

Dating Cliff Booth: Just some headcannons on what it would be like to date the sexy stuntman.

(Romance/Fluff)

Blueberries and Cigarettes: A short drabble where the reader finds out there's more to the man with the Hawaiian shirt than he lets on. Cliff Booth X Reader!

(Romance/Fluff)

Tyler Durden:

It's Hot To Punch A Blonde Guy In A Bar: A Tyler Durden X Reader where they punch a blonde guy in the bar. Couple goals!

(Romance/Fluff/Slight nsfw themes)

Dating Tyler Durden: Just a few headcannons revolving around the concept of being Tyler's love interest.

(Romance/Fluff/Slight nsfw themes)

Dating Tyler Durden pt.2: More headcannons!!

(Romance/Fluff/Slight nsfw themes)

Fuck Your Life's Perception: Tyler shows he cares about you. Just chilling with the Master of Destruction.

(Romance/Fluff)

Ladybug (& Tangerine):

Lady Luck: You find yourself with a bunch of idiots on a train. Sexy idiots.

(Romance/Fluff)

Head Cannon #1: Just a short drabble for Tangerine and Ladybug!

(Romance/Fluff)


Tags

STRANGER THINGS

STRANGER THINGS

Headcannon #1: How you, Eddie, Steve, and Billy met.

(Romance/Fluff)

Steve Harrington:

They Don't Deserve You: being stood up by your date to prom only allowed for the best night of your life.....with someone else, of course.

(Romance/Fluff/Slight Angst)

Firecrackers: You're in the position of Billy in Season three episode eight. Good luck reading this one 💛

(Romance/Angst, angst, and more angst)

Ever So Slightly: The two of you think back to a time when everything was better...ever so slightly.

(Romance/Very slight angst)

Eddie Munson:

Sorry I'm Late, Sweetheart: The best performance in the entire world, probably. This one and the next, that is.

(Romance/Fluff/Slight Angst/Slight Crack)

Steve and Eddie:

Peanut Butter Death Wish: You explore the Upside Down with Robin, Nancy, and two idiots who simultaneously have a crush on you.

(Romance/Fluff/Crack)

Dusty Bun and the Vomit Ploy: Trying to sneak out of school is no easy feat but it sure as hell is a fun one.

(Romance/Fluff/Crack)

Steve X Eddie:

Glimpse Of Us: Steve visits Eddie's grave and tells him all about the world above.

(Romance/Fluff/Angst)

Let Me In: Eddie's bike ride meant so much more than just a trip to see the infamous Steve Harrington.

(Romance/Fluff/Slight Angst)

Billy Hargrove:

It's Okay to Not be Okay: You open up to your boyfriend about something you've been struggling with.

Trigger warning for this one^^

(Romance/Fluff/Slight Angst)

Steve and Billy:

Got Something of Mine, Harrington?: Billy and Steve fight for your love in a choose-your-own-adventure type style.

(Romance/Angst/Slight nsfw themes)


Tags

Hello! I'm wondering if you'd accept my request of tasm!Peter with a girlfriend who constantly worries and fussed over his bruises and cuts whenever he comes back from being Spiderman while peter just sits there grinning like an idiot fooling around with her?

tysm this idea is so cute and I didn’t do it justice!

You're half-dressed when Peter gets home.

“Oh, you look nice,” he says.

“The effect of that is kind of lost when you’ve got blood all over you,” you sigh, helping him out of the bedraggled suit. “Pete, is that glass?”

“So much glass,” he agrees, swivelling on his hips to show you. “Swung through a window.”

“Fuck.”

“Fuck,” he agrees with you again.

You retrieve the first aid kit from under the sink and dig until you find a pair of tweezers. You’re turned to the side holding them over the flame of a small lighter when you feel his hands on you.

“My shirt looks good on you,” he says.

“Boo. Awful. Stop touching me, I’m trying to sanitise,” you say.

His fingers press into the soft curve of your hip. You squirm out of his grip because you know if you let him touch you, let him melt you down, his side will heal with little shards of glass still inlaid while you’re distracted.

You make him lie down on a clean towel on the bed and perch over one of his legs. This is enough excitement for him to start wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Pete,” you chide, tilting your head to one side so you can get a better look at his side.

None of his cuts are bleeding anymore, and that’s the problem. You go for the little pieces first, the ones that are almost all healed, and Peter doesn’t flinch even as pinpricks of fresh blood bloom in their wake. His hands are soothing you if anything, tentative fingertips pushing over your face. You ignore him as best you can.

You wince as a bigger piece pulls free and blood rises to the surface, a crimson bead rolling over his rusty skin. You wipe at the wound with a tissue, hand shaking. Invisible to the naked eye but not his, Peter catches your trembling fingers in his and lays them flat over his abdomen.

“Relax,” he whispers in good humour.

“You’re slowing me down.”

“It’ll still be there after you give me a kiss,” he tells you.

“I’m not giving you any kisses until you're glass-free.”

“You don’t need to worry so much.”

You look at the purple yellow bruise amassed over his right shoulder, the blood streaking the skin of his abdomen and the cut at the corner of his mouth and raise your eyebrows.

He’s beaming at you.

“You look stunning right now,” he says, pulling your leg so you fall into his chest. You gasp and hold yourself off of his glass splinters.

“Peter, you’re being a total jerk.”

His hands slide up your waist, stop dangerously close to your chest. “Tell me all about it, pretty girl.”

“I’m trying, if you’d just,” he kisses you, you return without thinking and then pull away, “let me.” He catches you for a second kiss. A hand slips under your shirt. You groan against his lips in defeat and feel his own curve into a smirk.

“Got you,” he says, chuckling.

what i want to say: fight club is about the hurt so many men feel and the toxic masculinity that doesnt let them heal. they dont know how. they want to cry but the only time where theyre allowed to is when people think theyre on their deathbeds. so they turn all their hurt and anger and pain outwards. its about knowing that the world is fucked up but not knowing how to fix it. and instead of figuring out how to heal it they decide to destroy it and start over again. an option that seems so appealing to them, to burn it all and rise from the ashes like a strong and powerful phoenix. but none of them are learning how to build, theyre just learning how to destroy. its about the dangers of cults, how all these men who grew up with shitty fathers and ripped up and shitted on dreams see tyler who seems to be the peak of everything. hes strong hes smart hes charismatic and he seems to understand their struggles so it makes sense them to follow him and to carry out his work. it gives their lives new meaning, such is the appeal of any cult, and the leader is so persuasive that hes convinced actual real life people outside of the book and movie to believe him. to look past the satire and to want to be him. its about obsession. its about wanting. its about how modern day society and especially capitalism and consumerism is fucked up and spoiling and corrupting humanity but the way to fix it isnt by an attack as so many men want to believe. you cant just take sledgehammers to the machine without all the people already in the system suffering. these men dont care if there are casualties they want the world to be plunged into a new dark age they want a new flood so they can start it all over but thats not. the. way! it backfires and the people in project mayhem get hurt and die and their loved ones get hurt and die and the main character realizes he cant stop this and whats sown must be reaped and its about men with hurt inside them not being able to deal with it not being able to sleep or cry because of a system THEY SET UP which is now backfiring ONTO THEM and instead of reconciling with their tender side they just keep fighting and keep throwing punches and HOPE that the blood and bruises will cover all the internal turmoil so they never have to face it

what i say: fight club is actually about gay sex

THIS IS SO CUTE 😭

Hi I'm not sure if you're taking requests if not then please completely ignore this

If you are I was wondering how you think Hannibal Lecter might propose to his female s/o?

No Warnings!

A/N;Hi guys, hope you're having a great day. Enjoy this short imagine. Love you all.

Hi I'm Not Sure If You're Taking Requests If Not Then Please Completely Ignore This

Hannibal planned this trip  a year ago and  he scheduled everything  according to it. His patients, his work with the FBI. He seemed extra prepared for this trip which made you question him. You knew his character, he was always ready for anything but this time was different.

Analyzing people rubbed off on you from him, you’ve been together for 3 years now and living together for 2 years and obviously some of his personality traits made their way to you. You weren’t sure whether  you had affected him the way he did but this last year he was more settled and sometimes carefree. Of course those occasions were pretty rare, but it was fun to see him opening another bottle of wine after being tipsy or cancelling his work just for a get away with you.

When he made the last phone call about his work he was free. ‘’We won’t be bothered anymore, my love.’’ He kissed your temple and together you left your shared home to catch the flight.

Weather in Italy, Portofino was something you needed. Baltimore was too cold for you. He rented a villa up the hills, overlooking the entire town, sea, forests, buildings. The view made you feel you belong to Portofino, maybe one day you’ll live here with him.

You were on the balcony, being in awe of the sight before you while Hannibal was being in awe of you, he hugged you from behind, kissed the tip of your ear. You giggled like a child, he loved that about you, admired your nurturing, yet, carefree spirit. He was aware that together you were in the perfect balance.

Hi hands went to your stomach, he imagined you carrying his child. Before you, he never imagined having someone in his life, of course he had some people that he saw time to time bur being in a committed relationship was something he never dared to dream. The sun was setting, he made you turned and looked at his deep maroon eyes.

He planned everything and it was time,

‘’My dearest, 3 years ago today was the first time that I saw you. You were drinking your coffee, just the way you like, and reading your book.’’

You smiled, you were reading ‘’A Philosophy of Walking’’ by Frédéric Gros, he made a comment about it, thus, you started talking about great philosophers for 2 maybe 3 hours.

‘’But we were so caught off guard by our instant chemistry that you left without bestowing me nothing but your elegant name. Thanks to my connections with the FBI, I found you.’’

You remembered the big bouquet of flowers on your work desk after a day, how scared you were…

Soon you’ve come to realize that Hannibal Lecter, even though he was the epitome of the modern gentlemen, deep down he was a hunter. He lived to chase and catch, you gave him a chase which was worth the ride.

‘’I never want to let you go, what we have is real.’’ He let go of your hands to get a ring from his pocket. You could feel the tears of happiness forming, ‘’Be mine. Forever.’’ You kissed his lips, ‘’Yes,’’ you whispered, ‘’forever.’’

Thank you for reading. :)

Your Magesty.
Your Magesty.
Your Magesty.

your magesty.

•LADY LUCK•

LADYBUG X READER X TANGERINE

Having to work with the most annoying person on the planet, your feelings for Mr. Bucket Hat definitely change the longer you're forced to be around him. But what happens when you end up in a killing spree free-for-all and the British guy from the next compartment over decides he has the hots for you too?

⚠️ Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of blood and gore, Sexual Innuendos, Mentions of weapons, Mentions of death ⚠️

Part One!!!

image

"You're in, Mantis."

The deep voice over your earpiece came through clear and curt as you made your way over to the train car you'd be stationed in until the mission was completed. Leaving the station, the bullet train made its way out of Tokyo and you could see the bright lights starting to dim as it pushed on towards the less populated portions of the city. You weren't phased by the sudden acceleration of the train as you had been on one of these a few years back when you'd been scouted for the team.

Thinking back to the night you were scouted to work under The White Death, you smiled at the memory. A train moving so fast that one would expect it to be safe from gunmen and their attempts at running a Cartel. Your family had watched in horror as the men infiltrated the train and held a couple people hostage, ready to use their lives for their own personal benefit. You were so stupid back then; a naivety that of which only comes with the contemptness of lifestyle. A younger version of yourself with less experience with this whole secret agent thing. You ended up saving your brother, three at the time, by turning the gun back onto the first person you’d ever killed. The White Death had been on that train and offered to free you from any charges you would face for murder if you had agreed to work under him. So, without much of a choice, you swore yourself to secrecy and began your work, never making it back home to spend time with the family members you had saved. You thought of them from time to time and how the news of your disappearance would have affected them. Not knowing if you made it out of that shitshow alive, that sort of thing. If only they hadn’t been captured by the same gunmen you joined The White Death to kill.  

The man’s face still haunted your dreams. A gruesome imagination and a harsh grin plastered over his older face. A giant scar ran across the bottom of his chin and made its way up to his nose, stopping directly under his tired but blood-thirsty eyes. 

"How much money is in the briefcase?" You asked Wyatt, the person who had been speaking to you over the small intercom. He had been assigned as your Handler from the White Death himself and he very much hated this position. It was your first day back on the job after helping to clean up the Bolivia incident.  

"Enough to pay ransom for that idiotic stupid family of yours." He said, becoming cross with you within a matter of seconds it seemed. You wished it was easier to connect with your partner, but he had made it very clear from the get-go that there wasn't going to be any friendly aspects of the job.

“Ironic how you say ‘idiotic’ and ‘stupid’ in the same sentence considering how redundant that is.” You snapped back, sliding into one of the empty seats that were furthest away from everyone else. A window seat in the back provided you with the perfect view of a few of the platforms you'd be hitting and the places you'd encounter on your trip. The seats were an uncomfortable upholstery and were colored a terrible blue which you assumed was to be calming but it was far from it. The rest of the fucking compartment was that hideous color that one only looks at with fondness once they reach their last stop of the night. The time when one would part ways with the train and all of the single-serving people they were forced to interact with while they waited to finally make it to wherever they needed to go. Leaving the train and knowing you wouldn't have to see that god-awful color again until your next boarding.

Taking a quick glance around your compartment, you take out your computer and paperwork to make it seem as though you were on a business trip. In a way, you were, but people wouldn't think anything of you talking into an earpiece if there looked to be a reason someone was calling. Sticking the gun from the corner of your pocket into the crevice between the wall of the train and the seat, you try your absolute hardest to get comfortable until the next stop, when you knew you would have to act fast and run to the baggage area without suspicion. Assuming that’s where the case would be. You hoped you would be able to take it without much of a fight... you were tired of cleaning up the aftermath of people not giving you your way. Blood stains don’t come out easily. 

Suddenly the seat in front of you was occupied. It startled you a bit at first since you were supposed to be alone, but you quickly recollected yourself and took note of the person before you. Longer blonde hair, thick rimmed glasses and a stupid bucket hat topped of this mystery man's look as he stared out into the walkway as if he was looking for someone or something. It seemed that he hadn't noticed you yet.

"Ahem." You said, clearing your throat to try and get the man to leave as this section of the train was clearly occupied.

“Mantis? Something wrong?” Wyatt answered from the earpiece, trying to make sure that the mission had started out going directly as planned. Knowing that you wouldn’t be able to have a chitchat with him while this stranger was in the vicinity, you switched it off and directed your attention at the person before you.

"Oh hey." The man said, turning around and staring you in the eyes. You could see him look you up and down before directing his gaze back to yours with an apologetic smile on his face. A strand of his bleached blonde hair fell from the hat atop his head and placed itself right in front of his eyes.

"This seat's taken."

He made an "oh" shape with his mouth as he nodded and smiled. Thanking the universe that that was all it took to get him to leave, you turn back to the window to wait for him to get up and go somewhere else. When that didn't happen, you turned back to the man only to see that he had moved a seat over instead of sitting in the one across from you by the window.

"Uh? Hello?" You said, shifting some of your stuff over to opposite side of the table so he wouldn't realize the papers weren’t written on. 

"Oh hey again." He said once more, smiling at you and taking off his hat. His demeanor was giving “sexy professor” and you hated to admit it, but he was damn fine. You wondered how old he was but soon decided it didn't matter. This wasn't a social trip.

"Hey, yeah. I thought I mentioned that this seat was taken?" You said in a calm but firm tone, trying to ward him off from your mission. You weren't going to be able to talk to Wyatt about anything with this dumbass bucket hat dude eyeing you up every now and then.

Running his hands through his hair to restore some of its volume, he looked back up at you. "Yeah, you mentioned that. That's why I'm over here now." He said. So he was the asshole flirtatious type. Perfect.

"A seat over?"

"Well you said that one was taken."

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. What was with this guy? You thought American tourists at least knew that the trains in Japan were supposed to be quiet as a sign of respect to the other passengers. Guess not with this guy.

"You can't go sit in another compartment? Really?" You said, now letting some of your annoyance shine through.

"Are there any other hot people in those cars?" He asked with an aura of innocence despite the words that were leaving his mouth.

"Not any who'd be willing to talk to you."

"Feisty. That's how I like them."

You rolled your eyes in his direction and started to gather your things. If he was going to insist on sitting there, you would move yourself. You just had about everything packed up while he complained about you not wanting to sit next to him until you remembered the gun you had stuffed into the seat earlier. There was no way you'd be able to get it out now that this man was over here, trying his hardest to flirt his way into a better viewpoint of him. You put your things down and sat in your seat from before, hating that you had to give in to his pleas since you wouldn't be able to remove your weapon.

"Ah! You changed your mind." He said, a grin on his face and a confident tone now replacing his one from earlier.

"Whatever. When's your next stop?" You asked, trying to see how long you would have to deal with this moron for. An hour you could take, but if he was going all the way to Kyoto then this might possibly be the worst mission you've been given.

He smiled. "Whenever I can get out. Might take me until Kyoto, who knows."

Great. Just fucking great.

...

Tangerine held his hands in his suit pockets, feeling around for the familiarity of his pocket watch. He needed to know when phase two of their plan would commence and when he would be able to make his escape with his brother in tow, safe and sound. He hated having to be in this business but he would do whatever it took to keep Lemon safe and sound.

Walking into the train car with the hideous blue accent, he held a peculiar silver case in his hand with a sticker that looked as though it came out of a kid's coloring book. This sticker was a ploy to keep any wandering eyes out as they would assume it belonged to a five-year old or someone one that age. The blue train sticker beamed up at him as though it were urging him forward towards the luggage compartment ahead only for him to place it above him and Lemon's seats.

"I can take it." Lemon said, pressing for the case in Tangerine's hand. There was something magnificent about the case itself, as though it held a power that would trap everyone's fixation and would possess even the strongest of morals. It gleamed under the soft lighting and for a moment Tangerine recoiled. If he allowed Lemon to take the case and it be misplaced, their whole mission could be askew. But, he trusted his brother. Which is what led him to handing over the shiny object with a slight hesitation.

"Be careful with it, please." He said, worry prevalent in his eyes. He was tired from last night's event in Soho.

"I'm a secret agent. Of course I'm bloody careful." Lemon replied as he took the baggage and went to another compartment while Tangerine looked for a seat. Seeing one open in the back, he moved towards it with a calm expression on his face only to find that it was already occupied by a man in a stupid bucket hat and-

One of the most beautiful human beings he had ever set eyes on.

Her eyes were a beautiful color, a contrast from the hideousness of the train compartment before him. The way she held herself as though she knew her self worth, but was still modest and humble. Her hair which fell just slightly above her eyes as she moved about the compartment, gathering the miscellaneous papers and electronics. As soon as everything was gathered up, she froze in place and stared at her now empty seat before sitting back down again. There was something about that stare; a hidden fear.

He needed to know what it was. Whatever force compelled him to make his way to her direction pulled at his shoes and drove him to her seat where they locked eyes. Her mouth muttering in annoyance at the fact that there were now two pretty men screwing up her mission and not leaving her alone.

"Is-is he bothering you?" Tangerine managed to get out an entire sentence to his surprise with pertinence to the situation. He had thought all he was capable of would be a hello or a simple nod. He surprised himself quite a bit today.

Your eyes widened in sudden admiration for the man in the blue suit. "Oh yes. Please tell him to go away." You said, hoping that this British man would be your savior against Mr. Bucket Hat who was trying so hard to insist that his name was Ladybug.

Ladybug followed your eyes to Tangerine and he smiled. "I can appreciate a fine ass man when I see one." He said, leaning back against the seat and making himself more and more comfortable as the train rolled off into the distance.

"You-you-" Tangerine started but whatever confidence he had upon starting this conversation left him entirely as he tried to tell off this "Ladybug" guy. Embarrassed, he quickly composed himself and looked at the man. "I would leave this woman alone if I were you. It's not polite."

Tangerine then went further towards the front of the compartment with his hands back in his pockets as he twiddled his thumbs and thought over the encounter while he was with Lemon.

"Something happen?" He asked, concerned as to why his usually stoic brother had taken a turn down Anxiety Lane. With his eyes wide and jaw clenched Tangerine looked as though he had an encounter with a ghost shortly before sitting down with Lemon to have this conversation. 

“I think-” He began, before he looked back over at the person a couple seats ahead of him. She was still sitting by the doofus with the hat but seemed to be quite interested in whatever the man had to say all of a sudden. Almost as soon as he was distracted by her once more, he noticed something off about his brother which sent him into a bit of a British frenzy.

“What the fuck are you doing!? Trying to show off your blood-stained shirt to everyone in Tokyo?” Tangerine whisper shouted and motioned towards his brother’s coat which was propped open, blood from last night’s events in Soho dried onto his white button-down. 

“Well, yeah. I want people to see my new tie.”

...

The gun that was stashed away by your side begged you to grab it and threaten Ladybug to leave you alone. He was really starting to get on your nerves (attractive as he may be) and you had hoped that British guy would’ve come to your rescue only for him to fail at that. Today was not a good day for keeping your hopes up, that’s for sure. 

“Hey, what kind of name is Mantis anyways?” The man before you questioned upon noticing the inscription of a name on your luggage overhead. He looked smug, in a way, as if he knew you were being glued to the spot due to your hidden weapon. 

“What kind of name is Ladybug?” You asked in retort, trying to get under this guy’s skin like he was getting under yours. 

“It’s a codename. Ever heard of those before, Miss Pretentious?”

You stopped your bickering and looked at him- really looked at him. The glasses, the hat, the bleached hair that looked like it was horribly done over the kitchen sink. It was a disguise. And a horrible one at that. 

You leaned over the table and he followed suit, the two of you being so close you could feel each other’s breaths over the cheap train seating. You switched from your usually calm attitude to a more serious and intentional tone as you wanted to figure out just what exactly this Ladybug wanted with you. It wasn’t to pointlessly flirt with you, no. It was to feel you out. 

“First day on the job, newbie?” You asked, now finally understanding what he was truly doing here. And by the sound of the codename, it was assigned to him, not something he chose for himself.

“Oh so you’re an agent too?” he said, pulling out a Fiji water bottle and removing the cap with a knowing smile, “figures the sexy lady might be an enemy of mine.”

Your hand clenched at your side as you realized the weight of your words, becoming even more irritated than you already were. What did this guy want? What business did he have being on this train or Japan in general? Was he after the case too?

“I can see the little gears spinning in your mind,” he said, taking a drink from his water bottle and placing it down on the table, “It’s alright, I won’t say anything to anyone else.”

“Who do you think you are?” You asked, now fully invested with what the man was saying but also pissed off that he had come over and somewhat blown your cover within minutes of you being on the train.

“I’ve tried to tell you already. The name’s Ladybug. I’m filling in for Carver.”

“Why would you tell me that? You do realize that being undercover means that you’re undercover?”

Ladybug played with the cap of his water bottle and flicked it off the top so it flew towards your seat. He was all kinds of childish, this guy.

“Between us is a wall,” he began, checking his watch to see the time as he continued to explain his reasoning, “and within every wall is a window. Er, shit- I mean a door..”

...

Tangerine felt himself focus back to the mission at hand. He quickly scolded himself for being tired enough for his mind to drift in every direction other than the right one, letting himself become distracted by a girl nonetheless. He straightened out his tie and placed his hands on the table, his hair slicked back and the watch on his wrist gave others the illusion of his put-togetherness. Inside, however, he was an absolute mess as he ran over every intrusive thought stationed in his brain. The White Death, his son, the case. It was all a lot for one individual to ponder.

He did have his brother by his side though, and that made things more worthwhile. Lemon always made the job easier as he was someone Tangerine could truly confide in. The two had definitely seen the weight of the world and surrounded themselves with the death that came with work. It meant something to be able to come home to someone who at least knew of the things he had to deal with and could sympathize with his negativity. 

Those were the moments he loved his brother. When he was rambling on about Thomas the Tank Engine, though, he did not. 

“Gordon. Gordon is the strongest and the bravest of the group. Like Tangerine, for example.” Lemon huffed out with a dopey smile and placed the train sticker onto the deadliest man alive’s son’s forehead. The Russian boy did not look pleased with Lemon’s antics as he shrugged off the situation entirely and removed the sticker, placing it onto the sleeve of Lemon’s coat. 

“Tangerine? Like the fruit?” The boy said, glancing at the two men whom he woke up to next. His face was covered with those kitchy do-it-yourself tattoos which read various phrases, most of which were just “fuck you” in different languages. His hair was disheveled and curly to the point where it looked too unkempt to possibly be on one’s head. To be fair though, he hadn’t showered for at least three days before Tangerine and his brother had to force him on this train back to his unloving father. 

“Like the blessings.” Lemon rolled his eyes as they had been asked that question one too many times that day. 

“I’m supposed to put my trust into people named after fruits?”

“They’re codenames. A delinquent like you should know a thing or two about that. And no, you shouldn’t put your trust into us since we’re taking you back to your father.” Tangerine said, matter-of-fact. This trust fund baby needed a kick in the balls. 

This made the delinquent get immediately frustrated as he realized where he was now. He had worked diligently to remove himself from familial affairs and now he had a one-way ticket back to the man he hated the most. He tried to get up from his seat, but Lemon was quick to draw the gun from his coat pocket, revealing the blood spatters from before. Hesitantly, the White Death’s son sat back down and placed his hands on the table in a manner similar to Tangerine. 

“Good, good. That’s how I figured this conversation would be going.” Lemon sighed and turned to his brother who wore a matching expression of exhaustion. 

“Now, we’re going to deliver you to your father and bring him that briefcase. Then, your rich little family will pay us as we deserve,” Tangerine began, unfolding his hands and using them to gesture what he was saying, “and because your father hired the best assassins in the world, we’ll be able to keep our arms.” 

“Indeed, we will.” Lemon said, grinning ever so slightly at how uncomfortable the atmosphere around their victim was getting. He definitely enjoyed the interrogation portions of his job. 

Suddenly, the tattooed boy grinned even more maliciously than Lemon as he leaned over the table to enunciate his next sentence, “What makes you think my father will let you keep your arms?” 

Tangerine spoke next, “Because he knows of our skill. He hired us for a reason, dipshit,” his British accent poked through his words, “And if either of us is to lose our limbs, it’ll be Lemon, not me.” 

“Why do I have to lose my arms? You know how much I like them.” Lemon whined. 

“Because I need mine.”

“Who’s to say I don’t need mine?”

Tangerine sighed once more and turned to his brother who looked so innocent holding a gun. 

“Because I get more kills than you do.” So what if it was a petty argument? Tangerine was quite tired of hearing Thomas the Tank Engine references and if this would shut his brother up, then so be it. However, Lemon retaliated. 

“What about the job in Bolivia?”

“What about it?” 

“Well, you know. We work best together. Our seventeen kills just trying to get this guy on a train with us.” Lemon raised the gun up a little higher to spark some sort of fierceness within the boy sitting next to him. The Russian seemed to have stopped listening in on the conversation and was more intently focused on what was happening directly outside of the train window.

“Sixteen. Sixteen kills.” Tangerine corrected, blinking his eyes in fake astonishment towards Lemon’s false counting.

“Seventeen, actually.”

This was going to be a long ride to Morioka.  

...

The train accelerated even faster as it traveled throughout the entirety of Tokyo, wind whipping around the sides of the steel structure and piercing through the wind. It was going so fast that even the windows were hard to see out of; occasionally one would see a building here and there but everything else was hard to make out. 

Tapping her nails against her book which read “The Communist Manifesto,” Prince waited for the man she had stunned to wake up and allow her to talk of her plans. Her outfit worked in the way that she had hoped it would, as she was trying to come off as an innocent schoolgirl. It was such a ridiculous concept in the secret agent world for her to not be taken seriously considering the fact that she was born a woman. Well, how she would change that perception when she finally got her way.

Gasping for air upon awakening, the man whom had searched the train with a gun to kill Prince (and had bumped into Ladybug moments before boarding) took immediate notice of his surroundings, looking for his attacker. Upon seeing the young girl dressed in bright pink, he frowned and the lines around his eyes followed suit, wrinkles on his face despite only being thirty-seven. Prince was supposed to be a man he had presumed, as his son Wataru had been pushed off of a building in spite of his involvement with The White Death.

“Who are you?” Yuichi, the man, spat out in the best English he could muster. His confident and mysterious demeanor left him once he realized that the woman was holding a gun under her table, directly pointed at him with the intent of firing if he misbehaved. Yuichi took the best course of action and decided to shrink away into his chair with the red upholstery, trying his best to be swallowed whole by the velvety fabric. 

“I,” the girl began, looking down at her finger which was placed on the trigger, “am The Prince.” 

Yuichi glared at her and thought back to his son who was currently in the hands of the hospital that took him in after the fall. His mind ran through images of Wataru, small and frail in the confines of the bed, hooked up to miscellaneous machines and tubes. 

“And you, Yuichi, are going to help me.”

“How do you figure?” He said, knowing that she had the high ground due to the weapon she had stolen from him moments after striking him with a taser. 

She took the gun and wrapped a pink hairtie around the handle; the beads on it were shining as the lights beamed down overhead. Prince then placed it on the table with the body of the gun facing Yuichi himself. She glanced to the binding around his wrists, and reached over to free him before resuming her position in her chair, just about to reach for the gun when-

-Yuichi made a leap for it and grabbed it, facing it towards The Prince who was now smiling.

“I wonder how my hitman is doing, watching over your son. Let’s call him, shall we?”

...

A/N: Thank you so much for reading the first installment of my Bullet Train series! I want this to be fast-paced and scattered like the movie, and I tried my best to make all of the plotlines match up while also including another character. I think this is the first fanfiction I’ve written where I’ve taken out a notebook and pen to make this go as smoothly without issues as possible. I hope to see more Tangerine and Ladybug fanfics as I am in love with this movie. Enjoy!

💛🦐


Tags

Glimpse of Us

Steve Harrington X Eddie Munson

⚠️ Warnings: this whole thing is just painful ⚠️

Glimpse Of Us

"You fill my lungs with sweetness, and you fill my head with you..."

The unfamiliar song started to play softly through the speakers of Steve Harrington's car, leaving him with a feeling of dread and sorrow. It was a foggy afternoon and the trees surrounding the town of Hawkins were tall and provided shade from the very little sun that poked through the clouds. It was darker than usual, a reflection of how Steve felt inside. The soft smell of petrichor filled his senses as he rolled the window down in an attempt to catch the air as he drove by. He was by himself today. No Henderson from the backseat to shout and cheer at the latest adventure they had. No Robin in the passenger side fixing her mascara and droning on about her love of Vickie. No one but the crisp cool air and soft rain starting to fall from the sky, so soft one might miss it if they weren't actively feeling rainy inside. Steve tousled his hair and wiped at his face as he continued down the path to the familiar clearing in the woods; somewhere he would be completely isolated and alone.

Pulling up alongside the road, he put his car in park and slumped against the wheel. His head hurt from the night before as he had stayed up later than normal, drinking an endless amount of coffee to get him through work and then through home. His cardigan felt heavier than usual as he wrapped it around himself quickly, trying to trap in any warmth before turning off the car and walking outside.

The King of Hawkins High now had a slight limp in his walk ever since the battle for his home. His hair was starting to lighten up at the roots and he had lost a couple pounds. Chiseled jawline and sad eyes completed the forlorn look he now wore with contemptness. Vecna was a thing of the past, but the pain the monster left him was far greater than anything that could truly heal over time. Today was full of nostalgia for him so he decided to release his emotions in the only way he knew how to; talking to Eddie.

The trees eventually opened up into the bright and beautiful field he had known all too well; the grassy meadow was a bright yellow in contrast to the darkness of the rest of the world which Steve figured was his friend's doing. Such a happy corner of the universe but such a sad day it held within its corners. 1986.

Eddie looked lovely today. The birds were flying overhead in intricate but beautiful patterns in the sky, keeping a watchful eye on everything happening down below. They paid no mind to Steve as he frequented this place often. Besides from Dustin, he was the only other human to walk this place with the knowledge of what it truly meant. Visions of Eddie running around with Dustin himself, bright eyed and beaming grins as they pranced about the meadow with their makeshift swords and shields. Robin and Steve had sat alongside the outside as they shaped spears using what they had gathered. Erica and Lucas fighting over the binoculars as they playfully expressed that they cared for each other. The last time when things were truly perfect, Steve thought to himself as he sunk to his knees by the site where Eddie rested now.

"Eddie Munson. The Hero of Hawkins."

The inscription was clear even though the rest of the grave had been worn away after quite some time. It was small so it would've been glanced over if you weren't on the lookout for the home of the Hellfire Club leader. There were a few sprouts of miscellaneous plants growing out from some of the sides and around the lot. The dead rose from the last time Steve came to visit laid atop, waiting to be replaced with another flower. He fished into his cardigan and pulled out another rose similar to the other one, although this one was very much alive. The petals were vibrant and dewey, matching the surroundings of the meadow and the sky overhead.

"Hey Eddie." Steve said, getting comfortable on the ground and fiddling with the grass. "It's been a while."

"Nancy and I will have to visit with the kids someday soon." He began, working towards trying to have the confidence speaking out in the open like this. A faint smile appeared on his face as he said his next lines.

"The meadow looks beautiful as ever, Eddie. I can see all the work you've put into it. Your aura was always a contagious one."

Steve swallowed back a tear as he ran his fingers over the inscription he had paid for himself. Eddie would always be known as the hero, even if it was only to a few people who resided in Indiana. Funny how your world can be comprised of a few science kids and a couple college friends. Or how it used to be, anyways. Before everyone grew up.

"We named our oldest after you. Ironically, he's very into Metallica. You would be so proud of your namesake." Steve said, feeling proud for a moment at the mention of his son. Him and Nancy had gotten married in the summer of '99. She had worn a plain and simple wedding dress but she looked beautiful as ever in it, hair pinned to the top of her head and a pearl necklace around her neck. Her smile had beamed so brightly that day and Steve felt like the luckiest man in the world.

"Robin apparently still visits Hawkins from time to time. She moved to Washington not long after everything went down in Hawkins. She said she couldn't take it anymore. We had a party for her and then she left the next day. I haven't heard from her since." The mention of his best friend made him crinkle his nose in fondness, remembering the night they spent drugged in the bathroom of the Starcourt Mall and her coming out to him as a lesbian.

"I know Henderson comes to see you with his family sometimes. He's almost always over at our place. He keeps me updated on everything happening in his household. Turns out, he's a great babysitter too. He tells Eddie all about you and about how great you were."

"Lucas became a professional basketball player for the Indiana Pacers. He's quite good, it turns out that he's found his people and his talent. He and Max still have some unfinished business, but as far as I know she lives alone after her mother passed not too long ago. She's doing better now since she woke up from that coma, volunteering at the local hospital. She went back to college to get a degree in nursing."

Steve tried his best to explain everything he knew. Eddie was the glue that seemed to hold their group together. After his passing, everyone went their separate ways and Steve felt very isolated. He missed his kids and the way it used to be sometimes, especially on days like today. But the same part of him that yearned for their reunion was the same part of him that was ever so pleased they all ended up okay. He couldn't be anything but proud of them after they all worked so hard to get where they were.

"The Byers still live in Lenora. Hopper went with them and he got married to Joyce. Jonathan went off with Argyle and started their own clothing line. It's pretty ridiculous, but I've heard that they're making a ton of money from it. Eleven is still with Mike. They visit us sometimes too when they can. They're still distraught over Joyce and her death not long after they had gotten married themselves. Nance and I went up to see them and it was almost as if the whole gang was back together. You would've loved it!"

Steve was laughing now as he explained their wedding even further. It was a shame that Joyce had contracted an illness but she didn't go down without a fight. Hopper visits her grave all the time when he's not too busy working for the post office. He still takes care of Eleven and adopted her the moment he was able to.

"Will is working as a librarian and he got married but that's about all I know. He's the one kiddo that hardly keeps in contact anymore. I heard he's a published author, but I don't know the titles of any of his works."

Steve stopped his rambling and stared down at the plants poking out from the grave. It was refreshing to see some new flowers popping up here and there, a contrast from the yellowing of the meadow grass. It was now starting to rain harder and he could feel the water droplets hitting his head, almost like the ticking of a clock telling him that his time with Eddie was almost up. He composed himself from his slight moment of fondness and looked down at the shining stone beneath his feet.

"Eddie." He said, moving towards the top of the gravestone and petting it in the same way he used to pet his long curly brown hair that was always mischievously framing his face and flying about. Eddie would smoke cigarettes while Steve played with it as he laid on top of his friend and played some of his Corroded Coffin guitar solos. His smile would light up Steve's entire room as the eccentric metalhead boy would sit on the end of the bed and laugh with him about their music tastes and the typical drama of the day. Eddie's Hellfire notebook would be sprawled out on the floor as he placed back and forth while he talked about what was to be expected from their next campaign while Steve listened intently. He would tilt his head if Steve had any ideas to offer and would jump up and down if something he had said would be added to the exciting fun of DND. Munson would run around in Steve's bomber jacket when it was cold. He would hold his hands when he wanted him to know something important so that he would have Steve's undivided attention. Eddie would prance around the field with Black Sabbath blasting through his Walkman. He would yell up at the night sky and ask for the universe to lift the curse that held him to Hawkins.

"I never stopped loving you." Steve admitted. Before he headed back towards the warmth of his car, he took off his cardigan and placed it atop Eddie's final resting place and smiled. "So you don't get cold, is all." He said.

Steve didn't believe in God or any particular religion, but he knew that somewhere somehow, Eddie heard every word.


Tags

Dating Cliff Booth Would Include...

Dating Cliff Booth Would Include...

A/N: I will never get over how hot Brad Pitt is in this movie at 54. 

Imagine calling him pretty boy just to tease him.

He blushes most of the time when you say it which just encourages you to say it more. 

He loves you, he does, but he will definitely leave your bed in the middle of the night to go get Rick whenever Rick calls him needing something. 

Rick and you would probably end up friends though considering how much time you spend together. 

Plus he’s so good to Cliff (and to you too once he gets to know you) that how could you ever not like him?

Cliff will constantly joke that Brandy likes you more than him most of the time even though everyone knows that dog is practically his baby.

Whenever he has to go out of town with Rick for a job or keep an eye on Rick for a few nights you end up taking care of Brandy.

Not that you mind because ofc you fall in love with how sweet that dog is. 

Anytime you need anything done around your place Cliff will automatically volunteer to take care of it for you. 

You need your car’s oil changed? He’s got you covered. Got a stuck door lock? No problem. Been wanting to paint your bedroom? He’s glad to help. 

Cliff Booth’s love language is acts of service and you can’t change my mind on that. 

This man is like the human embodiment of top energy. Do with that what you will.

He is usually really gentle with you though (unless you ask him not to be). 

He is an amazing kisser. Like grabs your face in both hands and really kisses you type of thing. 1000/10 recommend. 

Don’t expect sweet nothings. Cliff is a man of few words and doesn’t usually voice his feelings but he still finds ways to let you know how he feels. 

He opens up more with you than most other people though.

You guys would have so many inside jokes between the two of you because of this. 

He likes to hold your hand while driving with the other. 

Cliff is the ultimate hype man! He is always there and ready to pump you up when you need it.

He always gives you calm supporting vibes as if he just knows when things are going to work out fine and it is honestly so helpful when you’re nervous about something. 

I picture lots of hang out type date nights where the two of you just kind of watch some TV, play with Brandy, and smoke weed together. 

He always swears he is never going to get married again and he 100% means that too. 

He is fine with living with you and he doesn’t want to be with anybody else but his first marriage was such a disaster that he has sworn off marriage all together. 

Part of him is really nervous that you’ll leave him after you hear the rumors about his ex-wife. 

And of course when word gets around that you’re dating Cliff people are practically lining up to “warn you” about him and tell you all about what happened to his ex-wife. 

You don’t believe it for a second though and adamantly defend him whenever anyone brings it up. 

He may or may not have realized he was in love with you the first time he heard you defending him to some random person who tried to say something bad about him. 

He’s not used to people really caring enough about him to do that and it meant a lot to him. 

Speaking of defending each other…

Cliff is incredibly protective over you. Like someone can look at you wrong and Cliff is ready to throw hands. 

If you work in Hollywood, especially as an actress, he is even more protective of you because he’s always afraid some sleazy producer or someone is going to try to mess with you or put you down. 

He secretly kind of loves it when you fawn over him after he does a few stunts, always worried that he’s going to get hurt. 

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