#i would not be surprised if she has a knack for languages

[paradox-n-bedrock]

it's occured to me that a lot of my favorite Donna tropes are just "Donna does stuff she shouldn't be able to."

like let her bully the Doctor into trying to teach her Gallifreyan and them be shocked when she actually starts to pick it up. have her and the TARDIS communicate and the ship indulge her whims a little when she's irritated with the Doctor. write her and her Spaceman getting into some touch telepathy shenanigans and have it turn out to be far more two way than they intend.

i don't even need a justification for it. we've got an easy handwave for just about anything with the metacrisis, but. unnecessary. i will eat it up regardless

[ravengards-rogue]

i thought of you so often.

arthur morgan x reader.

✧ tags : fem!reader (gendered language, explicit use of she/her in reference to reader), children / planning on children, generally sappiness, fluff, au where nothing bad happens to arthur hdskjsdkfhsj.

✧ wc : 2.4k (???)

✧ a/n : arthur morgan.... save me arthur morgan....also not a super original thought but i can't Stop thinking about it.

✧ synopsis : a collection of love letters, all unfinished, tucked somewhere you aren't meant to find them. oh, arthur loves you more than you knew.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

You try to keep out of Arthur's belongings.

He's owed some privacy, for one. More than that, you've never felt any reason to look into it. Arthur isn't a man of many words, though you catch moments of his introspection should you pry. He isn't stoic, neither. And above all things, he's kind. Really truly kind in a way that makes him different from other men.

You don't have any complaints about him is what you mean. Unlike the men you've loved before, there are no short-comings of Arthur that would drive you to wanting to investigate his own personal things. Especially something so personal like his journals, prior or present.

On top of that, you were there with him through everything. You were part of the gang and stayed by him when it all fell apart. It was towards the end of that that Arthur came to you near frenzied, told you his plans, his thoughts. Confided in you and no less than begged to go with him where he ran.

You loved Arthur enough to stay, and so things ended - and you ran. There isn't much his journal could tell that you couldn't surmise on your own.

It's been years now, and you've long since left that life. You live with Arthur quietly, peaceful in the moments with a garden and kitty sweet as sugar.

It's a good life. An honest, quiet one sometimes to the point of being boring. You rarely miss the action, though occasionally you'll take up a bounty just to feel alive and make some money.

Mostly though, you live as unassuming folk. No bloodshed, no wardens, no gunslinging.

Been talk between you both about having a baby, recently. Serious talk. You've made some money between here and there, and you've got a good life. You've traveled too. But it gets a little lonely, and you don't really get your fill with just Jack when John and Abi are ways away.

Before anything like that, though - you need to clear some space. Empty out some belongings and things collecting dust. Living in one place for too long creates all sorts of mess, you find. When Arthur is home to help, he does - but he's been busy lately figuring something out with Charles. Some business venture related to ranching that you know nothing about so far. They'll tell you when its ready.

Usually when you're tidying, you keep to just your things, or your shared things - but Arthur has lived more life than you. It shows in that big closet space filled with nick-knacks he has yet to toss.

You'd mentioned it to him not too long ago and he'd given you permission to go through them.

(A kiss to your forehead from chapped lips and hands holding your waist, Arthur hums in acknowledgement as you ask his permission.

"Ain't nothing I gotta hide from you. Do whatever you need.)

But like you said - you try to keep your nose out of his business if it's not necessary for you to be in it in anyway.

You weren't trying to look through his things, really. You started cleaning, worked your way to that last box. Up on a shelf in his closet, a little too high for you to reach easily. You made a misstep and dropped the damn thing. It barely missed your head as the whole thing fell open, and out came journals and papers and photographs.

You've always known Arthur to be sentimental, so none of it has been particularly surprising. A photo of wolves and him on a horse, the picture from John and Abigail's engagement. Some other scraps of sentimental value.

And then there was a journal. Not Arthur's journal that he's always using, but another you've never seen before. You know Arthur journals, seen the thing plenty though you never look unless he shows you first.

A journal with a dark brown stained leather binding, fallen open and your name scrawled out in pencil lead at the top of it.

The curiosity got the better of you, okay? Not your damn fault.

So you're thinking on it.

The fabric of your skirt is pooled out underneath you as you hold the thing in your hands, sitting down on the ground surrounded by things. You've stowed away everything else that fell out from the box after ensuring it was intact, including Arthur's journals. Everything with the exception of the one you're holding.

Some guilt eats at you. You don't wanna upset him potentially by having looked. Even if he gave you permission, looking in the damn thing is a little different. But your name was there so clearly, and well - you didn't think he wrote about you. Apart from here and there, maybe.

You hold the book out in front of you with a sigh, looking fondly at his name ingrained in the leather. You press your forehead against it with, resigning yourself completely.

"Lord forgive my pryin'," You mumble, hoping it's enough to absolve you.

Your heart feels funny as you let your fingers trace over the hard edge of the front cover, one eye shut as you start to open it slow.

The first few pages are nothing special.

A page outlining who the journal belongs to and when it was started, and some doodles of yarrow and oleander. The pages after that filled with mundane entries. About people he met or things he saw, all endearing to you. The corners of your lips tug up slightly.

You really love this man helplessly.

You flip through a few more pages, many of them blank before writing starts to appear again. Little by little, you find passages. You look to the dates up at the corner (though not all of them have one) and trace the timeline. This is from all the way back in Horseshoe Overlook.

It feels like ages ago now.

You look at a page with no date, and reading the writing in it. There's doodles of flowers and trees along the bottom of the page. The words are easy enough to make out - because Arthur has the most unusually beautiful handwriting.

There's some entries about you. At first, they all include your name in some context. Mentioned in the same way Arthur might mention Hosea or Abigail. The further you go, the less you see it. The more you become her and she.

It's a trend. The longer you read, the less there is about anyone else. Just you and all your silly idiosyncrasies tucked between pages. Something lovestruck and foolish lights its match in you.

Saw a body hanging at the tracks at Valentine. A gruesome sight. I told her about it and she laughed. Asked me to take her to see it. A strange woman, by all accounts.

You feel yourself smile a little as you continue to flip through the pages.

She joined me riding into town today. Said she had some business to attend but would not tell me any details. After, she came with me to purchase a new gun. I engraved a snake into it's handle, per her request.

Another few pages littered with drawings of delicate berries and waterfalls before you stumble across more writing. The more you flip, the longer the passages become you.

You can't tear your eyes away.

Rained today. Nothing too terrible or worth mentioning, except that she nearly caught a cold playing in it. I brought her coffee to keep her warm, but could not scold her further upon seeing her delight.

Another passage, this time written with messier hand writing. A coffee stain splatters on the white of the page.

Your heart tugs on itself. Swells about a thousand sizes. To think he wrote so much of your time together between these pages.

You read and read and read - and each passage is a little more mundane at the last. Some pages go on in vivid detail, but others are so short you aren't sure what to make of the fact he wrote them at all. As if such little details were important enough to keep in mind.

I picked a flower for her. I thought it would suit her taste. It was white with delicate petals. I did not know the name.

She wore it in her hair this evening. I find I can't stop grinning.

One passage on the next few pages, longer than the rest, catches your eye. From later in your time together, written when you were in Leymone. Near Scarlett Meadows and before the mess in Saint Denis.

After Arthur had been kidnapped.

I have gone on and on about the business with Colm O'Driscoll in many entries before this one. Yet, I find it difficult to forget. Many times I have come close to death, and still no experience lingers on my mind quite like this one. Everyone has done their best to look after me. For that I am grateful, though I do not care for being looked after. What use am I like this, I wonder? Perhaps, I should simply be grateful to be alive and in one piece, if a little uglier than I was. Alongside Miss Grimshaw and Miss Tilly, she has been by my side while I recovered. Such a carefree woman and yet I have seen her cry and weep over me countless times in the last few weeks alone. The decent man in me is apologetic for causing sorrow. Perhaps, it is the outlaw in me that feels some strange relief or satisfaction. Her fussing does not give me any grief. If anything, I find myself all the more endeared. Such a decent woman does not belong in a place like this. I hope she is able to go somewhere far away and live peacefully. I am not so shameless to want anything more. The time together we have spent, I will make sure to cherish.

Something painful and pitiful tugs at your heart. Even when Arthur admitted his feelings for you, he had started it on a similar tangent. You tell him often that you're the one who feels out of bounds with him. That a man as decent and as honest as him often feels like too much for you to have so easily.

A tear slips from your eye and you laugh at your own sentimentality, wiping it away before it can splatter onto the pages.

The further you read, the more sporadic entries become. You find that there are pages filled with sketches of you, but many of them are scratched out or half erased - like he did not find them good enough. Of your side profile, of your hands, of you pointing at a target with a gun. You feel a strange feeling of love wash over you.

Instead of concrete thoughts, you're met with Arthur's abstract. Subtle complexities and studies. There's honest tenderness in the way he sketches you and the words he chooses to caption each with. Lighter, thinner lines. Smaller doodles like stray daydreams caught onto a page.

You've never doubted Arthur in his love for you, quiet man he is - but it proves to overwhelm when presented to you in such a way.

You get to back pages. There, you're finally met with more writing. Except, instead of journal entries, there's the start of letters. You find your name at the top of the page.

Over and over. Love letters, all unfinished or scrapped. Written over and over and over, but not completed. There's tens of them at least. You've never received a love letter from Arthur before, though it's nothing you fault him for.

Now you're almost glad. You like this much better.

My darling girl My muse The better half of me, I must find some way to tell you all of what I think of you. It seems no words do it justice, I'm afraid. Still, it is in my best interest to try.

Damn that man.

When you find yourself starting to weep, you don't fight the feeling. You merely shut the book closed and set it in your lap before crying into your hands.

Such overwhelmingly happy tears. You feel off balance. If the whole world turned on its head this very minute, you're unsure you'd notice. What a decent, honest man you've come to love. What a tender one.

In the middle of your crying, you don't hear the door open or close. Nor do you hear Arthur's heavy footfall until he's in the doorway, with a voice worried half to death.

"Sweetheart, what in the hell?"

You turn your head to look at him, watching his eyes widen at your tear stained face. You clamber to your feet hurriedly, book dropping onto the ground next to you as you throw yourself at him as soon as you can.

Arthur is a steady enough man not to stumble when you do, though you can feel his apprehension. Eventually, he circles his arms around your waist. His hugs are strong. Bout strong as him and then some. An arm wrapped around your waist, the other crossed over your back all around your shoulder. Full pressure as he squeezes you tight, patting the back of your head.

"I leave you alone for a few hours. What has gotten into you, little lady?"

You pull back and and look at him, wet lashes and all, before leaning up to kiss him. Arthur meets your lips chastely at first before making a noise of surprise as you kiss him further. You use both hands to grab his face as you do, scruff scratching against your skin. His lips are soft, welcoming. He melts into the touch, so easily - blue eyes lovestruck as you pull away.

"You know I love you, don't you Arthur? More than anyone in this crazy world we live in,"

His face softens visibly. He smiles at you, touching his head to yours.

"Somehow, I do. Though, I'm wonderin' what the hell brought this on."

You tuck your face against his chest, feeling his laughter reverb through you at the way you cling to him so fervently. You sniffle as you talk.

"Found your journal. The one about me,"

He goes stiff, then silent. When you look up again, he's blushing red. He pinches his brow.

"Lord, I'd forgotten all about it,"

You shake your head.

"Ain't nothing for you to be embarrassed about. You are so wonderful,"

He pouts at you. Your heart swells. "You ain't helping with the embarrassment."

You hold him further. Hug him so tight, worried he'll disappear if you don't.

"I love you, Arthur."

"You already told me once, didn'tcha?"

"And I'll tell you one thousand times over," You emphasize, pouting at him. "Really. I love you,"

"I love you too sweetheart," His hand cups your face, thumb brushing along your waterline. "Don't cry no more. Spoils that pretty face."

"I'll try but I don't know if it's all out of me,"

Arthur laughs, pressing a kiss against your hairline. "Guess I'll just have to wipe your tears."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

[dirtyvulture]

Natasha Romanoff x Tattooed!Reader*

18+ only, read at your own risk

Requested by anon: Hiiiii I'm the one who asked for the tattooed reader with nat and I wanted to say thank you, I love it... I have another request... Maybe younger reader, who is a virgin, with nat who literally praises them throughout the whole thing and just kind of guides them... Not necessarily a totally innocent kind of reader, just that they don't know exactly what to do. G!P or male reader would be great, just whatever you're comfortable with, and if you can/want, reader has tattoos (if you haven't noticed I'm kinda obsessed with them). Hope you had/have a great day❤️ (sorry if it's kind of confusing, English isn't my first language sooo yeah) 

AN: Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

Read the original blurb here!

You’re a little surprised when Natasha asks if you want to go to her room after the party, but not enough to turn down her offer. You’re not stupid, and you’re pretty sure your little display at the pool was enough to catch her eye. But at the same time, you’re a little nervous, because despite what everyone thought about you, you’d never actually done it before.

She holds your hand while she guides you into her room. You’re a little surprised at the lack of character it has: just a bed, a plain dresser, and a desk in the corner. There are no knick knacks, no memorabilia, no pictures or posters.

You knew that Natasha Romanoff is a woman who is very hard to read and immensely secretive, but you hadn’t expected this to extend to her own private room as well. But this was your chance to get to know her--assuming you didn’t disappoint tonight.

Natasha guides you over to her bed and sits down to face you. You don’t even realize that you never put your shirt back on from the pool until she leans forward to run her fingers across the sword tattoo on your left side.

“I got that after I spent six months in Japan,” you volunteer, a little uncomfortable with the silence. 

“What about this one?” Her fingers move up to touch the dragon on your chest.

You shrug. “My friend designed it. I just thought it looked cool.”

“You’re not wrong there.” Natasha drops her hand back to her lap and leans back, biting her lip as she looks you up and down. She spreads her legs and grabs onto your shorts to drag you forward until you’re standing between them. “Obviously I brought you here for a reason. But only if you want to.”

“O-Of course I do.” But your stutter gives away your nerves.

“Are you sure?” Natasha hesitates.

“Yes. It’s just...I’ve never...” Your cheeks heat up at the fact that you have to explain to her that you’re still a virgin, but she tugs on your shorts again, bringing you down into a kiss. Her lips taste like coconut lip gloss and press against yours softly.

“It’s okay. I’ll take care of you,” she says.

You want to tell her that you’ll take care of her, but your words are lost when she kisses you again, wrapping her arms around your back and pulling you on top of her. You put your hands on her shoulders, not really sure where else to put them, but as the kiss deepens you find them gravitating towards her chest and groping her over her bikini.

“Hold on,” Natasha says, breaking away from your lips and sitting up to undo the knot behind her neck. She slips out of her bikini top and you have to consciously keep your jaw from dropping when she exposes herself to you. 

“Can I...”

“You don’t have to ask,” she chuckles, amused by your manners. 

You cup your hands around her breasts, surprised at how soft they are and rubbing your fingers over her nipples.

“My turn,” Natasha says, practically panting as she reaches for your shorts. You’re a little nervous to show yourself off like that, and she can tell, but she brushes her hand along your thigh and asks you to take them off yourself. With a deep breath, you pull your shorts down, your cock springing out hard and ready, and it’s Natasha’s turn to hold back an exhale.

“You’re gonna stretch me out so good,” she hums and you feel yourself throb at her dirty words.

“I can’t wait to be inside you,” you say, not sure if the words will turn her on or further show your lack of experience. 

But Natasha doesn’t comment, lying back down and sliding out of her bikini bottoms. You carefully move on top of her, enjoying the silky feeling of her bare skin against yours. Your hips rock against hers, your cock twitching as it makes contact with the insides of her thighs.  

“Inside,” Natasha begs suddenly. “I need you inside.”

“I...I don’t have protection,” you say, the thought suddenly dawning upon you. 

“You don’t need it.”

“Are...Are you sure?” The last thing you need right now is to become a parent. 

“Do you trust me, baby?” Natasha asks, and your heart soars at the pet name.

“Of course.”

You sit back to line yourself up, tensing in anticipation and not wanting to blow too early. As you slide yourself in, all you feel is a warm tightness around your cock, better than your hand or any toy you had ever been inside of.

“Oh fuck, Nat,” you pant, pressing yourself deeper, desperate to feel that same warmth along your entire length.

“Finally,” she moans, dropping her head back on the pillows. “Start thrusting, baby. Fill me up and make me feel good.”

You take her waist in your hands, jacking your hips forward in uneven, short strokes. You don’t really have the focus or the patience to take your time, but you also want Natasha to be happy with your performance. 

“Fuck, right there,” she says, her nails suddenly clawing at your back as you lean down to kiss her again. “A little harder, baby. Don’t be afraid. You won’t break me.”

You grunt as you try to deepen your strokes, railing into her harder. Her walls clench around you perfectly and you know the stimulation is already too much. You try holding out as long as you can, but you spill before you can even give Natasha a warning, pausing as you release your cum into her in sporadic bursts.

“I...Oh, God,” you mumble, embarrassed and ashamed. “I’m so sorry, Nat--”

“Don’t be,” she says, stopping you from pulling out. “We’ll try again when you’re ready. It feels nice to have your cum inside of me.”

It’s strange to hear something so crude come out of her mouth, but it makes your cock twitch. Maybe it’ll be ready for round two sooner than you thought.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[trashmouth-richie]

[vol i] [vol ii] [vol iii]

Eddie x fem!reader

Summary: Eddie is slowly becoming easier to live with you’re not sure if you’re just used to his disgusting behavior or if he’s truly trying to change. You make a schedule for chores and when/who/what time showers will be taken, chaos ensues on both Eddie and you. Eddie reveals a side of him that reader hasn’t seen/ noticed before.

W/C: 6.4k

A/N: if you were looking for some disgusting! Eddie smut this is the chapter for you babe.

Warnings: NO MINORS! Smut, blow jobs, rough sexual acts, degrading, daddy!kink, vomit, crude language (as if any of my fics don’t have this)

S/O: @agentmarvel @sweetsweetjellybean @boomhauer @mopeymopeymouse @chestylarouxx @banished-big-ope-vibes @carolmunson @newlips for helping me beta read, come up with dialogue, pacing, letting me insert them throughout the fic, helping me breakdown how this disgusting little mf would act in certain situations + everything in between! You guys are the best! If you aren’t already— follow them.

/

You couldn’t deny that things had gotten better with having Eddie as a roommate (not that you would ever express that to him) but living with the overgrown child was slightly very slightly, like a teeny tiny bit, better than it was before.

After living in his disgusting cluster fuck of a room for a week, Eddie finally sat down amongst his heap of mixed dirty and clean clothes and organized it. The disaster made your eye twitch every time you walked past his room in the morning and got a whiff of his stench, reeking of weed and Doritos, you finally convinced him to get it done, and in typical Eddie fashion— it came with a price.

After bargaining for days and nearly pulling your hair out because all he wanted was a single pair of your panties—

“Why? So you can hold them up like that dork in Sixteen Candles to show all your nerd friends?”

“Babe, the ladies I fuck don’t wear panties.”

He finally settled on a six pack of Busch Light, and for you to do his laundry for a week.

“Remember to separate my delicates, sweetheart.”

Fucking pig.

The only thing delicate about Eddie was his ego when you told him his hair was thinning out on top, (it definitely wasn’t, he had more hair than cousin It) but you needed the upper hand, and criticizing his hair was the way to do just that.

His bed frame and the oak dressers he had ordered, finally arrived. Allowing him to put away his never ending collection of band tee’s and holy jeans. Clearing a path for his floor.

“Holy shit, is that the carpet?” You ask, standing in the door frame before your shift at the salon, toothbrush in your hand, minty dollop of toothpaste atop it.

He’s elbow deep in the dresser, foregoing folding anything but instead shoving the clothes haphazardly into the shallow drawers and slamming them shut with his legs, or his hip.

“Wow, Tooty, you’re hilarious,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes, “but since you asked, yes, it does, match the drapes.”

A smile spreads across his lips. Another normal conversation turning into a sexual innuendo. He couldn’t be prouder of the way you walked right into that. Since you told him what happened to Eyeball he really has been holding back his usual gross behavior, but sometimes it was just a slip of the tongue for him. Involuntary action.

You turn to leave but he stops you, crossing the room at record speed and placing a ringed hand on your wrist, the surprising warmth from his hand burning your skin.

“Hey, uh, can I get your opinion quick?”

“I’ve already told you, I don’t think the groupies give a shit what color boxers you wear.”

“Wow, okay— that’s the wrong answer! But I’m talking about this.”

He points to the shelf crammed full of his odd knick knacks. It originally belonged to Nancy, but she had left it behind. Inside of it were a hoard of books. Lord of the Rings, something that looked like manuals for Dungeons & Dragons—of course he’s still playing that— a plethora of Stephen King books, and a full— more than likely sticky— stack of playboys. Go figure.

“What about it?”

“Do you think it looks good here or should I move it under the window?” Eddie asks, hands out wide measuring and comparing in arms length the distance under the window and the width of the book shelf.

You take a step into his room, every square inch of wall was covered in posters, your former bed sheets graffitied with his band, hung on one wall, the opposite held a kitchen knife stabbed through the drywall.

“What are you trying to do, feng shui?”

“Bless you.”

“What?”

He shrugs, “You sneezed, and me, being the pinnacle Christian son that I am, I blessed you, now should I keep this here?”

It took you a minute to comprehend what the hell just happened and why.

“Blessed by Eddie Munson— that’s the biggest oxymoron I’ve ever heard,” you snort, a smile twisted on your lips as you look at the overgrown man child huff about where to put his shelf, shoving your toothbrush into your mouth, “looks fine there.”

-

He did start cleaning up after himself, even offering to vacuum the living room in exchange for you making supper most nights. Begging you to make the lasagna again after he ate almost the entire pan the last time. He even decided to get take out on his one night a week to cook. Thank God because you couldn’t handle one more night of burnt, made-in-the-toaster, grilled cheese or using orange juice as a replacement when the milk was gone for cereal.

You learned the hard way that you needed to buy two separate gallons of milk, after watching Eddie drink straight from the jug, a dripping white mustache formed on his upper lip as he licked it suggestively, “Got milk?” He’d ask before roaring with laughter.

-

The next few weeks with Eddie as your roommate went rather smoothly. With you working at the salon and him working long hours at Boom’s Auto shop, you two came home at almost the same time every night. He would show up covered in grease and reeking of motor oil. His work coveralls, branding a white and red labeled patch with his name on them, had the sleeves cut off, showcasing his muscled arms and the wide array of tattoos prickling up and down them, shoulder to wrist. He wore a sweaty bandana wrapped around his head, rotating between a black or a red one, depending on the day.

You didn’t mind doing his laundry since his pockets were always full of either loose bills or the occasional joint, which you would keep, and smoke later with Robin and Steve, giggling watching the stars as you laid out on blankets in the backyard.

On Saturday nights, he usually played with the band, scoring a gig at the Hideout or working at the bar til closing time, helping Tom bartend a little until Walt got back from vacation. He stumbled in at night knocking over a lamp and almost falling backwards down the basement steps. He’d pass out for a greater half of the next day, waking in the afternoon with a raspy voice and smelling like cheap cologne.

One particular Sunday morning, he stumbled out of his room, wearing black boxer briefs, and a sleepy grin, rubbing his eyes like a little kid.

“Mornin’” he grumbled opening the fridge and diving in for his notorious pickles, tilting it to his lips and drinking straight from the jar.

You shake your head, sitting at the table and sorting through the mail. Your hair in a clip and wearing an oversized crew neck sweater, your mauve fingernails flicking through the envelope flaps, jotting down what’s due and when. “It’s 1 in the afternoon, Eddie.”

He smacks his lips loudly and faces you, fishing a pickle from the jar with his bare hands, “metal has no time limits, Tooty, we play until the bar shuts down.” He makes his way towards you, wearing one sock and chomping on his pickle.

You notice something on his stomach, a new tattoo? Maybe? Riding low on his waist and almost dipping below his underwear. The closer he gets you can make out the writing, a permanent marker phone number from a groupie written on his lower abs.

You point your pen towards his stomach, “gonna get that thing tattooed on, make it official, that Eddie the freak Munson has at least one adoring fan?”

He looks down, a smile pressing on his lips, “aww no need to be sad sweetheart,” he says lowering himself into a chair beside you, “there’s plenty of me to go around, and besides, I thought good little nuns couldn’t fuck, saving themselves for God.. or are you one of the dirty ones, showing your tits for cash so you can gamble?” He winks and laughs as you shove his shoulder trying to throw him out of the chair.

“You’re so gross!”

“And yet, I’m still here.” the Cheshire Cat smile planted on his lips.

Still. You had to admit, no matter how nasty his jokes were or how annoying he could be— having Eddie around wasn’t that bad.

-

“Tooty!” Eddie yells through the bathroom door bouncing from one foot to another, banging on the door with an open palm, “I’m going to piss my pants if you don’t hurry up!”

You had only been in the shower for ten minutes. When you walked past his room this morning with sleepy eyes and a deep yawn, metal music blared from his bedroom along with the annoying beep of his alarm clock, but the prince of filth was fast asleep.

“The schedule that you made says I get the bathroom first on Fridays, which is today!”

The schedule you had designed for Eddie and yourself consisted of 7 vertical columns one for each day of the week, and 5 horizontal columns: showering, laundry day, dishes, cooking, garbage. You had more days in the cooking column than Eddie, just like he had more days in the garbage column than you did. It evened out.

“Wrong— you were supposed to get the bathroom at 7, it’s now past 7:30 so it’s my turn,” you correct, putting a generous amount of body wash on your loofah and foaming it up, white suds cleansing your skin, “not my fault you can’t wake up to your alarm.”

“Christ, seriously just open the door! I’m fuckin’ dancing around out here like a little kid!”

“Can’t hear you,” you sing out to him, laughing silently beneath the spray of water.

You hear the feverish jiggle of the brass handle on the door and heavy footsteps as he stomps away. Oh the joys of victory. You bask in the delight of getting a one up on Eddie. Something that rarely happened in the few weeks he has been living with you. Slathering conditioner in your hair and rinsing, you exit the shower, feeling refreshed and ready to start the day.

Opening the bathroom door you expected Eddie to barrel through you to get to the bathroom, you’re taken aback when you hear faint yelling coming from outside.

“… piss in the front yard of my own house— I will! Go back to trimming your hedges with your toddler sized shorts and mind your own goddamn—,”

“Eddie!”

He’s standing barefoot in the middle of the lawn, his navy boxer briefs the only clothing he has on. Double middle fingers raised in the early morning sky aimed towards your neighbor across the street, Mr. Derry, the neighborhood watch dog. He was an older man, no kids, no wife. Retired. And a grade A pain in the ass.

Eddie turns and looks to you, pink blush creeping over his cheeks, “…business.” Eyes wide in innocence as if he hasn’t done anything wrong.

You’re still in your towel, hair soaking wet down your back, watching as this crazed lunatic you have as a roommate terrorizes the neighborhood, one flash of his dick at a time.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him towards the front door.

“Gracing the common folk of Cherry Lane with my morning wood, yeah take a picture and frame it you fuckin’ perv!”

Yanking harder you get him inside and slam the door. Your cheeks are flushed with embarrassment.

You open your mouth to speak but Eddie has already started explaining.

“Listen, I had to piss bad, like really bad. You could have just unlocked the door but no, Ms. Uptight-independent Tooty with your rules and schedules—” he stops and takes a breath. After your conversation a few weeks ago about the downfall of Eyeball and your own family abandoning you, Eddie had been trying to be more reasonable about things, more cautious about the way he worded things. Not trying to twist the knife lodged into your chest that had been driven there years ago.

“So I made up my own rule! If you’re gonna take forever shaving your legs or…other things…” his eyes cast down your body. The white towel snug against your form, you clutch it tighter around you as his eyes stare through the towel, begging to catch a glimpse of your wet, smooth skin. Water droplets taunting him as they fall down the slick of your hair. He shakes his head to clear his gutter mind. “I’m going to take matters into my own hands, and believe me princess, it was a handful.”

That’s about as dialed back as Eddie could be.

“You can’t just piss in the front yard! This neighborhood is not like the trailer park, that asshole you called a perv—“

“He was! He was looking right at my dick!”

“— once called the cops on Nancy because she parked by his curb when we were having her bridal shower.”

“Wa-wait, Nancy fucking Wheeler got the cops called on her?”

“Yeah, Hop wasn’t too happy to find out what it was for, calling Derry a waste of space.”

Eddie laughs, “Oh I’m not surprised— him and I go way back, remember?”

Of course you did, he busted Eddie too many times driving higher than the Empire State Building while bringing you, Dustin, Will and Mike back to the Wheeler’s. It was almost a running joke between him and Hopper. Eddie would slip him a joint while in the back of his patrol vehicle and away he went, no ticket, no charge, nothing.

“Anyway,” you jeer, pointing a finger into his bare chest, the tip of your nail making a half moon indent into the head of the bloody demon inked on his left pec, “he’s a fucking asshole so don’t piss him off, he’ll make our lives hell.”

“Fine,” Eddie groans, running his hands down his face “but he was gawking!”

You roll your eyes and grab your hair dryer from your room. An adjustment you’ve had to do since Eddie moved in, getting ready partly in your room and in the bathroom. After your hair is dried and styled, you opt for a pair of light wash overall shorts, and a thick strapped, high neck tank top underneath. You finish your makeup by applying a coat of Revlon’s Toast of New York on your lips. Sliding on your knock off Doc Marten sandals, you grab your purse and head for the door.

Eddie’s sitting at the kitchen table, chair pulled out as he laces up his black work boots, body bent over his knee as he jerks his hand side to side, lazily working the laces through the hook eyelets.

“Still getting groceries tomorrow?” He asks, shoving his white cotton covered foot into his other boot, repeating the process. “I added some essentials to the grocery list.” He gestures to the pad and paper with a tilt of his chin.

Scanning the list you laugh, “Dunkaroos are not essential.”

“Don’t you dare cross them off!” Eddie fake shouts, a grin stretching across his lips, showing off his straight teeth.

“I’m off tomorrow and don’t have many clients today— I know it’s your night to cook, but I was thinking of making tater tot casserole for supper, I’ll just have to stop and get some ground beef from Bradley’s before I come home.”

“Oh shit,” Eddie lamented, “I have a gig tonight instead of tomorrow at the Hideout,” he says standing, running his hands down his legs to shake down his coveralls. “It’s probably going to be late, so don’t worry about making anything.”

Ripping the grocery list from the pad and stuffing it into your purse, you think back to how long it has been since you’d seen them play. You went along to support Chrissy and since Eddie was Kev’s longtime best friend and basically your chauffeur, you at least owed it to him to go with. A memory of you head banging and holding Chrissy’s hand tight as you both screamed for Corroded Coffin clouded your mind.

Threading your purse straps through your fingers and casting your eyes downward you have to know, “… you guys still play Lady Evil?”

Eddie grins again, “wouldn’t be a Corroded Coffin gig if we didn’t play some Sabbath, Jeff would probably throw a hissy fit.”

-

Friday evenings were usually busy in the shop. Boom ran a tight ship and paid better than any auto shop in a thirty mile radius. Eddie was lucky to get hired on using his street smarts and the fact that he was the unpaid mechanic of the trailer park for every banged up old sedan that his neighbors had since he was sixteen.

The old radio crackled and fussed as Hank Williams Jr sang about the survival rate of country boys. Boom whistled along with the tune. Running his tanned fingers through his blonde hair, a Mr. Pibb and a ham sandwich in front of him.

“So Eddie,” he says leaning back in his plastic chair, “I heard from the boys that you moved into a house on Cherry Lane. Damn boy, I thought that trailer park ran deep in your blood.”

Eddie throws his empty Mt. Dew can into the trash, missing by a mile. “Ahh Boom, you know I’m the prince of the park. Just stretching my city legs, helping out a friend.”

“Didn’t know you and Eyeball’s sister were close.” Aaron sneered, lighting up a cigarette with a strike of a match against his boot.

Eddie’s light hearted demeanor immediately changed, smile fading and eyebrows pulling together, “what the hell does that mean?”

“Helping out a friend?” Sean spat, his wiry mustache shriveled into a snarl, “what are you Mother Teresa? The only help that bitch needs is a fucking lobotomy.”

“Hey,” Eddie interjects, pointing a greased finger into Sean’s face, “don’t fucking talk about her like that, man.”

Aaron talks around his cigarette, blowing smoke across the table, “It’s true, she’s smokin’ fuckin’ hot but crazier than a shit house rat.”

The pair laugh, choking on smoke and bits of crusty bread.

“Remember what Chad said about her?” Aaron laughed..

“Fuck yeah how did he put that? Don’t marry the girls with the daddy issues, even if they let you put it in their a—”

Eddie slams his fists into Sean’s shirt, grabbing him by the collar and throwing him against the wall, “another word, about her— and I’ll break your fuckin’ nose.”

“You threatenin’ me Munson?” Sean chokes out.

Eddies eyes are crazed as he glares in Sean’s, “never a threat, pencil dick, it’s a promise.”

“Fellas,” Boom hollers, shoving his chair back with an eerie scratch, metal legs scraping on broken tile, “I’ll send ya both home for the day with no pay if y’all don’t knock it the fuck off.”

Eddie shoves Sean into the wall hard once more, releasing his grip on his shirt and adjusting his rings. He cracks his knuckles as he stomps back through the bay doors and out to the Buick he had been working on.

Ducking under the hood his breathing is erratic and his fists are shaking.

He never asked what happened with you and Chad but by the sounds of it, it sure as hell didn’t end on good terms.

It was fine if he teased you, but hearing it from anyone else wasn’t gonna fly with him. Not today, not ever. But something about the way you opened up to him, showed him your vulnerable side, it made him almost protective of you, like he needed to shield you from the ugliest parts of the world.

He never would have thought that Eyeball’s little sister, tough little Tooty, the same girl who punched Billy Hargrove in the face after pinching her ass one night, would make him care so much.

-

“Told ya he’s cool,” Steve slurs over his Bloody Mary, clinking the ice in the glass as he tips it back into his mouth, “he’s like a wild animal, but once you get to know him— he’s just a tattooed teddy bear.”

You, Robin and Steve were out for dinner and drinks at Louie’s, the newer sports bar in Hawkins, sitting under an emerald and white striped umbrella in the hot humid summer air. A monthly ritual you started ages ago when you all worked at Family Video. Only back then you went to Benny’s to get burgers and concrete thick milkshakes, racing to see who could finish first which ultimately ended in Robin getting a stomach ache, every time.

“I could have killed him the first few days,” you say, sipping your Malibu and Diet Coke through two neon straws, “honestly, still debating it.”

Robin steals the pickle spear and celery stick from Steve’s drink, munching away and talking with a mouthful, Steve simply rolls his eyes and reaches for another mozzarella stick, “wait, I thought you guys were getting along better now.”

“They are!” Steve interjects, pointing the mozzarella stick around like he was directing an orchestra, “I asked him myself when I brought my car to Boom’s yesterday for an oil change.”

The thought of your friends asking your roommate, who just so happens to also be their friend, how things were going between you both, made your stomach lurch.

“Well,” Robin began, twirling her pina colada and biting into the yellow flesh of the pineapple , “I’m just glad you aren’t by yourself anymore. It freaked me out knowing you were there alone.”

She wasn’t the only one.

Before Eddie had moved in, Steve gave you his prized nail bat to keep by your bed. So far you haven’t had to use it. And with Eddie in the house, it was stored in your closet.

“Alright, I’ll admit,” you say, taking a long drink, feeling the warmth of the coconut flavored alcohol mix with the Diet Coke bubbles, a frenzy on your tongue, “he’s come a long way,” you admit, dunking a fry into the mayo ketchup concoction, “finally house broke.”

It was the truth, you really didn’t mind him being around.

-

“Shh, gotta be quiet girls, daddy’s gonna take real good care of you, but seriously, you need to shut up.”

The girls laugh, drunk off bottom shelf liquor and Jell-O shots from the Hideout. Three pairs of tangled legs stumble through the front door as Eddie hurriedly works his keys into the lock.

The two of them giggle and hush one another, planting kisses on either side of his neck and stepping out of their shoes. His leather jacket hits the floor, the shirt he was wearing was ripped to shreds from the collar down. Carol’s fingers feverishly tore at his clothing before the three of them even made it to the van.

Foregoing the zipper on the tight leather mini dress she’s wearing, Eddie shoves it down her hips, giving her ass a firm squeeze, toying with the fishnet tights, “these stay on,” he demands, slapping her ass and unzipping his jeans, a parade of cheap lingerie, and leather studded clothing start from the front door and end in Eddie’s bedroom.

Your car wasn’t home which was odd but maybe it was parked in the garage. He wasn't sure where you were but if you were sleeping he didn’t want to wake you up. You had never discussed any boundaries about him bringing someone home, but what kind of rockstar would he be if he turned down hot twins?

They had approached him after the show, twisting their evil tongues into his mouth and groping him as soon as he got backstage.

Jeff was in the back room with his long time girlfriend Ash, they were holding each other tight as he kissed her neck and she squealed into his ear.

The girl who showed up to every gig, Marissa, wearing her signature “here for the drummer” shirt, was currently bent over the bathroom sink, Gareth buried deep inside her.

Even Big D was getting some action, the waitress from Benny’s, Emily, was currently bobbing along on his dick.

All of them were getting lucky, a win for Corroded Coffin. The girls were screaming for them, bras and panties tossed on stage, Gareth sporting multiple pairs around his neck. The old bar flies drunk off beer on tap were singing along to the requested songs.

Cece’s pink floral dress is brought over her head as Eddie sucks her nipple into his mouth, teasing and biting as Carol kneels at his feet and works her palm into his boxers, gasping at the hardened length in her grip.

A monster lies beneath the cotton. Almost as thick as her forearm, her dainty fingers unable to reach fully around his girth. She pumps him slow, releasing his throbbing cock.

His fingers twist into their hair as he shoves Cece down to her knees, joining Carol in the worship of Eddie Munson’s dick. Their greedy mouths take him in, one popping his balls into her mouth the other choking on his fat cock.

Eddie wasn’t gentle when he fucked groupies. He took what he wanted and didn’t leave any room for complaints or questions. Shut off from the gentle loving side sex can bring and only seeing red, it was like he was a mad man. A different person entirely. Truly the horns of satan poked through his forehead and his eyes clouded over revealing a black veil of sin.

Demon eyed.

He was pissed from what happened earlier at work. Fucking insane with rage at Sean and Aaron talking shit about you.

Not you, not Tooty.

His frustration builds as the sound of lungs gasping for air fills his ears.

“Fuck,” Eddie groans, “Jesus Christ— don’t you wanna be good for daddy? Open that fuckin’ throat up and take what I give to you.”

He grabs Cece’s hair and thrusts himself in her mouth, ignoring her tears as she gags and swallows him whole. “Are you crying? Poor fucking baby, what a shame, on the bed now.” He grabs her up by the throat and tosses her onto the bed.

He’d kill Chad if he ever saw him again. Still had no idea what he did or why you two broke up but hearing his mantra spill from those asshat’s mouths today was enough to make his skin crawl.

The vulgar shit they were saying. The way they non chalantly said it like they were reciting their McDonald’s order. Fuck that bothered him.

Cock swinging, Eddie pinches Carol’s nipples until she’s standing, he flips her upside down, fucking into her open mouth as he bites her fishnet tights open and spits on her pussy. Tossing her on the bed like discarded trash he slaps both of their asses.

He tries to blur you away from his mind, separate you from his brain for a while to release this pent up anger. But all he can see are the small tears falling from your eyes when you tell him the truth about your family.

The Grinch’s small heart grew three sizes that day.

Shaking his head he bounds to his bed, trying like hell to focus on his task at hand.

“Are my little whores ready? Think you can handle this without tearing up?”

-

When Steve drops you off you’ve already puked in his car, twice. When he announced that drinks were on him tonight, you may have been double fisting Jack and Cokes with Robin, and taking vodka shots, racing to see who could finish first.

Robin passed out in the back of his car, snuggled up with the cold leather on her cheek.

“Steeb, I’m fine, seriously! Look how good I’m walking.”

“That’s because I’m carrying you.” Steve huffs as he opens the front door.

You’re slurring your words and talking in a volume that could raise the dead, “You’re such a good friend Stephen, why? Why why why are you single?” You hiccup, the remnants of your vomit lingering on your breath, “You need a wife!”

“Tooty, we can talk about my failed love life another day,” Steve grunts, carrying you into the house, stepping over boots and skimpy clothing, “for now let’s get you to the bathroom so you can get cleaned up and maybe puke in the toilet this time!”

“I just wanna go to bed. I’m tired,” you whine, “Stoven bring me to my room, let me go to sleep!”

Ignoring you, Steve brings you to the bathroom and plops you down on the floor, opening the toilet lids just in time for you to blow chunks all over.

“Ooh that one looks like a mozzarella stick.”

“Jesus, I’m never letting you two idiots drink again! I’m always your goddamn babysitter, it’s so annoying.” Steve laughs, riddling your hair. Ever since you stepped foot into Family Video at fifteen, looking for a job, the three of you were inseparable. “You think you’re gonna be okay? I gotta get that other shit head home before she pukes in the backseat, I already have to clean the front.”

“Oh no! I didn’t know you threw up!”

Steve rolls his eyes, dragging his hands down his face.

“See you tomorrow, I’ll call you okay?” His face is pulled into concern, eyebrows raised and pinched together

You salute him and wave, laughing at his mop of hair flopping around as he turns to leave. Struggling for at least ten minutes to get your denim overall shorts unbuckled, cursing and giggling at your own drunken stupor. You finally manage to get them un done shucking them off your legs, leaving your upper body covered by your tank top, the black panties you were wearing still on. Sliding your arms around your back you manage to unhook your bra and thread it through your shirt, tossing it into the shower beside you. Exhausted, you rest your head on the toilet bowl— falling into a dizzy sleep.

-

“Cece, come here!” Carol whispers loudly. She’s standing in the doorway of the bathroom, mouth agape at the sight of the slumped over figure hugging the toilet bowl.

“Holy shit!” She says, emerging from Eddie’s bedroom. “Is that? No fucking way.”

“I didn’t know he was screwing her too!” Carol breathes jealousy spewing from her lips.

“You really think he’d want to fuck that? Look at her! She’s a walking basket case. I heard that her family moved away because she wigged out and tried to kill her own mom.”

“Actually, the rumor is that I killed them all,” you add, raising your sleepy drunk face from the toilet, seeing double and trying not to puke on the spot, you try to stand, using the toilet to support your weight as you push off from it, wobbling horrifically.

“Get the fuck out,” you say, vision dancing as you try to point to the front door, holding onto the sink to stabilize yourself wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, “now.”

“Yeah?” Cece spits, folding her arms across her chest, “you gonna make us? Last I checked we were guests—“

“Not anymore,” Eddie hissed, adjusting the waist of his sweatpants as he looks into the bathroom at your disheveled appearance. Your makeup is smeared from throwing up, you’re half naked and barefoot, clutching onto the sink. Your overalls are covered in puke, and in a heap of vomit on the floor, a purple bra hangs over the edge of the tub. He wedges himself into the bathroom between you and the two girls, covering you with his tall frame from their view. His nostrils are flared and his chest is puffed out, “you heard her, get the fuck out.”

“What the fuck Eddie?!” Carol gripes, looking into his mad eyes.

He glares back, bored with her, “Did you really think you were gonna stay the night?” He prods, “Please, you can’t be that fucking stupid. Get your shit and go.”

“We live across town!” Cece squeaks, face pulled into shock and humiliation.

“Don’t care.”

Carol crosses her arms and glares into his eyes, “It’s late!”

“And?” He asks glaring back, and pushing through them, “Here let me help.”

Eddie takes their purses and shoes, tossing them out the front door into the yard. Pointing to the open door and fuming, he spits, “Out.”

The girls leave screeching ‘fuck you’s’ as they walk down the sidewalk, disappearing into the night.

He turns back to the bathroom, hearing you vomit again, one small glance and he can tell you hit the sink at least, puke splattering all over— the same reaction if you held a spoon under running water.

He turns around and comes back with the cleaner and a roll of paper towels, gagging with each wipe of the sink as he cleans it up.

Your crumbled body is slumped over the toilet again.

“Gonna live? Or should I call the coroner.” He says leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and a look of worry on his face.

“ ‘s Robin’s fault,” you mumble, voice echoing in the toilet bowl, “woulda been fine if it wasn’t for the sh—,” you gag thinking of the vodka, “—shots, I’m usually not like this.”

Eddie sits on the side of the tub. You’re wasted and half dressed. He was a lot of things but taking advantage of a drunk girl wasn’t him. He finds your robe hanging in its designated spot, and drapes it across your bare shoulders.

“Sit up a bit,” he instructs. With great effort you sit up, almost falling backwards but Eddie catches you, careful of his hand placements not wanting to graze you in your inebriated state. He helps you sit and you put your arms through the holes of the robe. He reaches gently around your middle to tie it. Putting delicate pressure on your back as he leans you forward towards the toilet. You hum with satisfaction as your face feels the cool plastic of the toilet seat. Fighting the urge to rub your back.

“I’m dying, you can have the house when I’m gone, scatter my ashes in the rose bushes out back.” You say with a whine. Groaning as your stomach churns again, puking up more and more of the mixed alcohol you drank earlier in the night.

“Need some water?” Eddie guesses.

You nod your head, feeling like it weighs a hundred pounds you set it back down.

He leaves and comes back from the kitchen with a glass of water, swirly straw included. Tapping your shoulder he hands you the Disney cup, taking a long pull from the straw, you set the cup down on the linoleum floor.

“Thanks.”

“Agh, you’ll be alright. The porcelain Gods and I are great friends— well we used to be back in high school. I haven’t prayed to them in a while,” he says with a chuckle. Sliding down against the wall behind you, sitting on the cold floor.

“Don’t forget the time you and Kev ate those shrooms and puked all night in the basement of our house.” You mutter, wiping your mouth with your sleeve and flushing the toilet.

That was a night Eddie would never forget, he was only sixteen, and he somehow scored some homemade brownies and shrooms from one of the seniors. Being young and dumb, him and Eyeball each ate three brownies and an entire bag of shrooms. The high was insane, but the aftermath was death. He hasn’t touched shrooms since.

“Shit,” Eddie exclaims, “how old were you? Ten?”

“ ‘leven,” you say, holding your elbows on the toilet seat and your head in your palms, “old enough to know you and Kev didn’t magically get the flu at the same time.”

“Man we were dumb,” he says with a laugh, rubbing his chin with his hand.

“Were?” you say slyly.

“Easy, I’m not the one who can’t hold their liquor, Princess.”

“Oh Jesus please no more mention of it or I will barf—again.”

He stands to leave, laughing and stretching his arms out over his head as a small yawn escapes him. Exhausted from the day's events: work, concert, threesome— ain’t no way he’d be up before noon tomorrow— you either.

“Think I’m gonna go to bed, you going to be okay?”

Sitting up and looking at Eddie for the first time tonight, you aren’t sure if it’s because you’re drunk, but it’s almost as if it’s the very first time you’ve seen him. His amber colored eyes are surrounded by a forest of black eyelashes, his mop of curly hair hanging in them slightly, smooth pink lips, surprisingly full, a sharp jaw with a days worth of stubble, his veiny neck dances as he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing up and down. His shoulders are thick snaking down to muscled forearms, veins protruding from them, his hands are easily double the size of yours, thick fingers adorned with the same chunky stupid rings he’s worn forever. His broad chest stretches across his ribs, nipples pierced since the 80’s. He stands with confidence. His slender waist with the tiniest patch of hair ducking into the gray waistband of his hanes boxer briefs. And the prettiest alabaster skin peeking out from his collection of black tattoos.

Mouth suddenly dry, you stutter, “I—I’m done throwing up, gonna go to my bed.”

You stand on Bambi’s legs, hitting the wall hard with your shoulder. “Jesus Christ,” Eddie laughs and scoops you up making sure he’s holding under your bent knees and around your upper arms. He carries you to your bed, his skin burning hot against your cheek. He lays you down, throwing the blankets over your head for good measure, trying like hell to ignore the flutter in his stomach as you huff and pout pulling your eyebrows inward and frowning as you place your blankets to your liking.

“Get some sleep Tooty.” Eddie says all too softly. Pushing your cute sleepy face from his mind, rocking back on his heels as he starts to leave your room.

“Eddie?” You call after him, your small voice ripping through him like a knife. “Thank you, seriously. For everything.”

Shaking his head back and forth, his wild hair flows like a curtain around him in the dark as he leaves your room, “you owe me,” he says with a small grin, shutting the door behind him.

//

////

/

SEE YOU IN VOLUME: V

[volume: 5]

putting random symbols in hopes that read more will eat this instead of the last paragraph 😩

-

-

[dipperscavern]

@cdragons & i were having some thoughts about secondincommand!reader.. specifically how she’d react to robb breaking his oath with the freys. believe it or not, they’re in love with each other. i don’t make the rules (yes i do)

tags — (@ghostinvenus)

secondincommand!reader who is the glue that holds the war camp together & keeps it running smoothly

secondincommand!reader who isn’t the strongest person out there, but don’t let that fool you. you’re often seen dragging 6’0+, 200lb northmen by the ear — giving them a scolding that would make tywin lannister look like a kitten

most problems are laid at your feet, not that robb doesn’t do anything, but the chain of command makes them be brought to you first. you have a knack for fixing things, and sarcasm runs through your veins where blood should be. you has nothing, if not the audacity

tough as nails, and fears only the gods, all the northmen call you doe. they say you’re the long lost daughter of stannis baratheon, stubborn as a mule, you’ll break before you bend.

so one can imagine how happy you are when you find out the king in the north broke his oath and married a nurse.

you give robb the absolute cold shoulder when you hear the rumors are true. robb and talisa stroll through the camp on their horses, and when you see them, you just stand there. theon glances at your stiffness, before you turn around and just walk away.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

robb thought he was going crazy.

you had always been said to hold the camp & northmen together, and now, with you not on his side — he’s finding out how true that really is.

you haven’t spoken to him since he left & returned with talisa, abandoning his oath with the freys. if he asked you a question during a meeting, you’d answer the lord closest to you, as if he had asked you that, instead of robb. you had even resorted to speaking to him through theon, who found it hilarious.

“C’mon, Doe- you have to speak to me sooner or later.”

he’s this close to begging at this point. you merely turn to theon.

“Theon, do you hear that? It sounds like.. it sounds like a fucking idiot.”

theon nods. “Been a lot of those lately. Think it’s seasonal.”

robb runs his hands down his face as they both walk out, and eventually he confides in talisa about it. after all, she is his wife. she approaches you after a meeting, while you’re gathering her things to leave.

“I’m sorry if you’re unhappy with me, I’m only trying to do my best.”

you don’t miss a beat. “You’ve only put all our lives in jeopardy and half-way ensured we lose the war. Why should I be unhappy with you?”

she’s surprised by your boldness. talisa swallows thickly. “Feel how you will about me, Robb is your king. You should speak with him soon.”

you turn around, looking at her, brows pinched in faux empathy.

“I’m sorry- I don’t speak with southerners. Gives me the chills.”

“I’ve been in the North for many moons.”

“How interesting.” you finish gathering your stuff, walking out of the tent with lord karstark trailing beside you. he leans over to rub your shoulders.

“I can feel ya’ shiverin, child.” you both laugh, walking on.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

your silence was eventually replaced by nonsense, and robb considered letting the lannisters march in here and put him out of his misery.

you had taken to speaking the language of old valyria, for all robb could guess. and the men around him could be none the wiser, theon included.

“Karstark, you’ll lead the vanguard. And Doe, you’ll command the archers.”

“Mememememeh..” you said, rolling your eyes. theon nodded.

“Agreed.”

he thought someone would stop you eventually, but no, he failed to recognize these men adored you. their little doe, a spitfire who could demand their lives & they’d fall on their swords.

“Stew good, Doe?” he asked, walking by the campfire you sat at.

“Ehmemememeh..” you said, shaking your head. the men sat around you only nodded, murmurs of agreement to each other spilling from their lips.

and when you did start talking to robb again (in the common tongue), he almost wished for the silence to return. no he didn’t.

“Glad you’ve started speaking with me again.”

“Tell me, how much speaking will we be doing if Walder Frey decides to behead us?”

he opens his mouth to speak, but you raise a hand.

“If I die because His Grace, King Robb, saw a bit of arse & his cock forgot the oath he swore, I am going to kill you.”

he thought the northern lords were going to burst a blood vessel with how hard they tried to hold in their laughter. in the end, their efforts did not prevail.

[calicoheartz]

hi! how are you?? i was wondering if you can write some hcs of dating ellie? thanks!!!!!

A Love like No Other ; Ellie Williams

summary : just dating hcs of you and ellie !

warnings : tooth-rotting fluff 🦷

master list ㇀♡

a/n : I’m doing great anon! Tysm for asking and requesting this!! im so excited to start writing more for abby & ellie 🥰 enjoy ! ◡̈

gestures of affection ;

Ellie might not always express it verbally , but rather show her love through small gestures.

Whether it is finding a rare book she thinks you would like, or creating a sweet gift out of scavenged materials

quiet moments ;

I feel like Ellie would definitely cherish quiet moments with you !

even if it’s just watching the sunset on a rooftop, sitting by a crackling fire , or even just sharing your stories with dreams. She’d do anything if meant being with you

trust and vulnerability ;

Ellie values honesty and openness, especially in a relationship

Over time , she eventually learns how to open up about her past , sharing her fears and insecurities with you. And you do the same

cute little things you both do ;

she definitely has a knack for finding old cd, and she LOVES sharing her findings with you. You both would most definitely dance together in an abandoned room

you guys absolutely loveeee learning together!! You both will often spend nights / evenings together reading old books or practicing new skills ; such as playing guitar or practicing a new language

lowkeyyyy hc her as little spoon 😬

You guys grow together !!! Your bond strengthens with every obstacle you overcome , which eventually leads to the both of you becoming each others rock. Finding both strength and solace in your love for one another ❤️

Ellie definitely teaches you some combat and survival skills, and she enjoys teaching you some of her tricks. You both might spend an afternoon practicing shooting or stealth tactics, while also bonding over your shared skill set

she definitely makes you roasted coffee in the morning !

wakes you up with sweet little kisses ❤️

will definitely surprise you with romantic candlelit dinners , using whatever ingredients she has to create a special mean amidst their harsh world

supporting eachother ;

since you both have had your fair share of trauma , you both obviously support eachother through your struggles

Ellie listens, comforts, and encourages you and you do the same for her! Knowing you both can rely on eachother no matter what

conflict resolution ;

Ellie is stubborn and can be hot-headed at times. During arguments , you normally help her see different perspectives while also being patient and understand

I feel like sometimes she’d apologize first but not always

anywho! that’s it for today folks. sooo happy to start writing for tlou! tysm for reading

[oonajaeadira]

A Welcome Home At Resolution Ranch

Fandom: Kingsman: The Golden Circle / Jack "Whiskey" Daniels

Pairing: Jack Daniels x reader

Reader: Adult female. Former agent, now the manager at a guest ranch. No other physical descriptors; no use of y/n.

Rating: T. Fluff.

Warnings: A little bit of angst, but on the edge of healing

Summary: When the news comes through that Jack met his end in Cambodia, you know better.

A/N: Well howdy, friends, and welcome to a good, soft, fix-it fic. What inspired this? @writeforfandoms did when she sent in an ask for a game....

"I wish you would write a fic where Jack is fine and nothing hurts and there are stars in the sky and there is plenty of banter and softness. Maybe horses."

Since her birfday is this week and writing Jack for each other is a love language, this is especially for her. <3

“You sure I’m ready to go on my own?”

Charity is a good girl. A little accident-prone at times, sure, but it’s mainly out of a lack of confidence. She’s got a real knack with the horses though, and you’ve learned to let her be on hand whenever the ranch has new guests check in; that million-watt smile of hers is worth a welcome mat covered in gold. She is Jack’s kin in every way, except he sucked up all the ego in the family and left little over for his niece.

Handing her the roster clipboard, you grant her an approving grin. “You grew up on these trails. You know them better than I ever will. You’re every ounce the guide any of us are. Now you’ve got eight guests riding with you this evening, two of them are about your age, and pretty handsome young gentlemen. You’re about to win the hearts of some suitors with that sweetness of yours…and if not, then for sure their grandparents. Have fun. Oh,” you remember, pointing to a name on the roster, “this lady here is a bit of a tick, but she has it bad for Morgans. Put her on Sasha and she’ll be shining so bright there’s nothing gonna dim her stars.”

“But Sasha’s your horse.”

“She won’t mind. Now get. And remember–”

Charity rolls her eyes. “Don’t let anyone tell me that they know horses better than I do, I know.”

“Good girl. Now you do a good job on your first solo run and I’ll have a big surprise waiting for you when you come back, hear?”

“I’m not a kid. I don’t need a reward.”

Turning the girl around by the shoulders and sending her off in the direction of the stables, you refrain from swatting her playfully, showing her the respect of a coworker. “And I’m not baking you cookies either. I’m not going with you tonight because I have something I gotta do. You’ll get the benefit of that thing whether you do a good job or not. I was trying to be encouraging.”

Her black braid swings down her back as she walks off to her task–both excited and scared, clutching the clipboard with both hands. 

“Oh, and Charry?” She stops to turn and listen. “Don’t put anyone on Whiplash. Leave her in the stable tonight.”

Once she’s given you a nod and marched out of sight, you wander back into the main lodge and relieve everyone for a few hours. You’re ready to take the front desk on your own. No worries, you explain, there’s only one guest booked to come in in the next hour and everyone else is out on the twilight ride. You’ll take it from here.

Once the lobby is quiet, you prop yourself out on the porch in a rocking chair with your boots up on the railing, tip your hat down low, and keep your eyes on the horizon--gradually more pink and gold by the minute--where any cars coming over the mile-long driveway can’t pass your notice.

It’s been six years now since you were secretly decommissioned from Statesman and your agent status revoked. Emotional trauma is a hell of a thing, and some agents take a beating. When head of the organization deems an agent unfit for duty with needs of long-term recovery and care, it’s their call to order it and–with the help of one other top officer–secretly install the probationed agent in a situation where they are anonymous and removed from any society that they could harm or could harm them. The organizational file would relate how the agent was killed in action, with the true story being kept by the two in charge. A total erasure of personage, total disappearance.

If and when the agent passed an evaluation and elected to return, they became extremely valuable as a secret operative, since everyone would assume they were deceased. 

If they decided not to return, the agency made sure they were provided for. For life.

Sometimes they came back; thrill of the hunt, what they know best and all that. But overall, the return rate was low. Something about a slow down calls after a life of deception.

In your case, Jack was chosen as Champ’s second and–having always been one of the only agents that damn cowboy liked working with–suggested you head up his family ranch for your rehab period. Tasked you with making it a nice working vacation ranch for families. Came out and visited you often enough to make sure you were getting on.

And, of course, to make sure you were getting off too. 

There was a lot of hay on property, and Jack was a damn nice rolling partner. Said that he liked that he never had to pretend with you. Not now, not ever.

And you always felt exactly the same.

But the timing was never perfect. And the world had always needed one or the other of you to save it.

Distractions.

After the requisite five year probation, Champ and Jack made the ceremonial trip out and asked if you’d like to be re-evaluated and “reborn”. As much as you’d been itching during the first couple of years to get back in the game, the quiet life had softened your body and won your heart. You’d gained the trust of the employees. Knew all the horses and their idiosyncracies by heart. It had become your home. Walking away to spend days without sleep, lying, taking lives without stopping to think twice….just didn’t appeal anymore.

With Champ’s understanding, you had respectfully retired, and with Jack’s blessing, you’d planted yourself permanently. The ranch was your calling. Your heart. Even with some of Jack’s relatives working and living here it could get lonely at times, but then you’d catch yourself watching the fireflies in the sunset or riding Sasha through a particularly pretty meadow and everything seemed right with the world.

And hells. If the lack of companionship was the only thing you had to complain about, well the universe must have heard. It’s rung the hospitality bell for you.

Taking the letter out of your pocket, you glance over it one more time. An announcement of an agent down. Cambodia. Drug conspiracy. Agents Galahad, Galahad, and Merlin of Kingmen, London. Agent Whiskey showing mental trauma and poor judgment. A violent engagement. A meat grinder. Signed by Head Agent Champagne.

So that’s the story they assigned him, huh. A meat grinder? Really? So stupid. But then, you got to assist in penning your own death, so it makes all the sense in the world that Jack got to have a say in his. Of course he was going to go out in the corniest way possible, of course he was.

Tsk. A meat grinder. Jesus.

Before long, the stars are starting to peek out and there’s a plume of dust on the horizon. Then a black car at the core of it, making its way along the drive. By the time it pulls up in front of the porch, you’ve hidden the letter back in your pocket, stood and made your way to the bottom of the steps. 

Two doors open. From the front a driver emerges, short and sturdy, young and hale, heading for the trunk to retrieve luggage. But when the back door opens, there’s the duo of a boot and a Stetson which emerge together then unfold into a tall, cool drink of Jack Daniels.

It’s a showdown at twilight, but you both keep your hearts in your holster for the time being and instead reach for your sass. “Driver? This here’s a working ranch, so you can just leave the luggage. Guests here are required to haul their own.”

They do as they’re told with a nod, dropping two suitcases and a duffel in the dust. The whole time Jack stands, unmoving, hands on hips, watching with a bemused incredulity as the driver then simply gets back behind the wheel and literally drives off into the sunset, leaving Jack's bags like carrion.

“Well shit. Is that any way to welcome a man home?”

“Maybe I just wanted you all to myself, cowboy. You ever think of that?”

There’s a delicious moment underscored by cricket strings that allows for both of your grins to stretch to full capacity.

But still, he’s a man whose wind has abandoned his sails and you both know why he’s here. It doesn’t mean he’s not still Jack Daniels though. And while he might not come at you with an oppressive swagger, he still comes to you, the cockiness giving way to a genuine fondness.

“Well. Hello, gorgeous.”

“Let me guess,” you tease, opening your arms to guide him to his landing, “You have a pack of cold ones and your roomie’s out so I can scream your name as loud as I want.”

His embrace is more than just happiness to see you. It’s heavy with relief, with longing. He needs it from you as much as you from him, and he hums low into your neck as he lifts you so that your toes just leave the ground before plopping you back down. This is the point where the usual hug might end, but he stays. He stays just a few more breaths and you can tell he’s taking a cure in the moment.

“Come on, cowboy,” you hum into his shoulder. “Let me help you with these bags. I prepared the best room in the house for you.”

Silently, you both heft a suitcase and he takes the extra duffel, and you make it up the stairs of the main house to the biggest bedroom and flip on the light.

“Isn’t this your bedroom, Brandy?”

Throwing a suitcase on the quilted bed you shake a finger at him. “Uh uh uh, that’s not my name anymore, Whiskey.”

He follows suit, unburdening himself. “And that’s not mine. Belongs to Ginger now.”

You can’t--and won't--hide your delight. “Well hot shit. Good for her. She’s always wanted to go out into the field.” But it’s also bittersweet. It's been six years. “How is my girl?” 

“Oh, she’s doing real fine. Took over as Champ’s right hand when I went out and Tequila hopped the pond to work for those Brits.”

“Damn. Well, I’m proud of her. I wish I could tell her. If I could have just had one more agent to keep in touch with….wait.” Something in Jack’s little smile gives you pause. “Waaaaait a minute. Did she–???”

He finishes the thought for you. “With the transfer of title, she also became Champ’s number two. So she’s got access your retirement file. I’m sure she’ll be booking a vacation here soon enough.”

Turning to the window and clamping a hand over your mouth, you hold your own reflection and do your best to keep the tears for later. It’s been six years and your old friend is in Kentucky right now, finding out any day now that you’re not dead after all, that you’re only a plane ride away. A long dreamed-for reunion is coming. Oh god. 

But Jack’s here now, and he’s going to need your support. And of course he’ll demand your attention–”You never answered my question. Where are you sleeping if I’m in here?”

Turning to him, you wink. “Who said I was moving out of this room?” His blush signals that you’ve just out-Jacked Jack Daniels. Stepping in closer, you take his hand. “Hey. I just wanted to give you a view of the stables. If you want me here, I’ll share the room with you. If not, the guest room is free and I’m comfortable sleeping there too. This is your home now, cowboy. I want you to see the sun in the morning. Give you a reason to get up every day.”

“Sunshine’s wherever you are, partner. It’d actually be real nice to have a reason to stay in bed.”

His words spread through you like a good bourbon. “Good. I was hoping you’d say that.” It’s a warm moment, new for both of you. Instead of the thrill of the promise of sharing a bed and the obvious adventure that awaits, you have something now that you both never had before–time. Time to hold. Time to breathe. Time to heal and take it soft and slow. “Come on, cowboy. I wanna show you something.”

Picking up his Stetson from the bed, you place it lovingly on his head, your fingertips lingering as they trail down his sideburns. He wears the hat well, and the facial hair. And the deep adoration. Before he gets lost in the moment, you lead him out of the main house and down toward the stables.

“So. A meat grinder.”

He grins as he watches his feet, big hands swinging at his side. “Can’t blame a man for people wanting to remember his demise. That one’ll be talked about.”

“Little over the top, isn’t it?”

“That’s the way I went in, apparently.”

“Stupidest death I’ve ever heard of.”

“But you’ll remember it, won’t you.”

Rolling your eyes, you lead him to one of the front stalls of the stable. “Yeah, but I’d never believe it. Jack Daniels? Taken down by an unarmed, unstable agent and his apprentice? This hulk of a man tossed around and yanked into a grinder as if there’s one big enough to take you?”

“You’re real hung up on the meat grinder part, aren’t you. You do know the target was actually processing people and making them into burgers, right? I don’t see why it’s so unbelievable–” But he stops like stone when you reach your target stall. “Is that…Well slap my chaps. That’s the prettiest mustang I’ve ever seen.”

“You like her?” Clicking your tongue, the lithe and beautiful bay immediately comes to you, tossing her mane, ready for the apple you’ve got on offer. And when you hide it behind your back, she knows to put her nose to yours, to nuzzle you gently. “This is Whiplash. Fast as a shooting star and twice as bright. Picked her out myself. Helped Charity to train her up, which is why she’s also sweet. That girl has the patience of a saint. Must get it from the other side of the family. But this mare was a passion project for both of us. Thought you might like to claim her,” you say, handing the apple over to him and, with it, Whiplash’s attentions. “Anytime you need to clear your head, she’ll run you to the moon and back.”

Jack holds out the apple reverently with one hand, running the other along the mare’s neck. “Always wanted a mustang. Thought I’d have to settle for the automotive variety. They’re not the kind of horse you keep at a pedestrian ranch for just anyone to ride.”

“I know. It was meant to be a surprise for your next visit. But now that you’re here to stay, she’s even more yours than she was before.”

Now it’s Jack’s turn to hold those tears for later, his beautiful brown eyes gathering up all the rising moonlight. Swallowing hard, he gives you a nod, a thanks that he can’t put into words just yet. Instead, he deflects. “Where is my favorite niece?”

“Your only niece is out leading a twilight ride. It’s her first lead. I told her I’d have a reward waiting for her when she got back as long as all the guests are alive and kicking. She doesn’t know you’re coming yet.”

He nods. Goes back to petting Whiplash. The full day and the journey finally come to settle on him and all his thoughts seem to rise to the surface and float in his tired expression.

You reach out. Hook a finger in his belt loop and give it a coy tug. “Hey. Can I ask you...what happened, Jack?”

He has to take a breath. Two. Then he gives Whiplash a final pat and takes your hand, weaving it through the crook of his arm, and you wander out into the darkening pasture together.

The mission was nearly doomed from the start. With Tequila down and Harry still recovering and Eggsy still green, it was just a mess. It didn’t help that his heart wasn’t in it, that he kept thinking about his loss so many years ago, that maybe it was better if all the addicts were just taken down in one fell swoop so they could stop hurting themselves and everyone else. Running the New York branch and distribution on top of fucking saving the world every five minutes–the burnout was getting to him and just made him fixate more. 

Harry saw through him but misinterpreted his reluctance. Harry shot him to take him out of commission, knowing full well that Ginger could fix him. Jack went back into action too soon, too hot. Went straight to Cambodia. Joined in the fray. Ended up taking out his rage on Poppy and brutally jamming a needle in her neck, overdosing and killing her rather than neutralizing her and taking her in as he should have. Harry and Eggsy were kind. Stood up for him with Champ. Helped to corroborate a story so he could step down. Jack let the record show that they were the heroes so they could go back to the Kingsmen in triumph and he could heal in peace.

This is what surprises you the most.

That Jack let himself go down as the bad guy.

“You could have just said you were taken down by one of Poppy’s men and walked away a martyr.”

He simply watches the first fireflies come out in answer to the first stars, squeezes your hand a little tighter, shakes his head. “If I’d had my head in the game, a good agent wouldn’t have died. Merlin. His name was Agent Merlin. Damn fine man. And if Harry and Eggsy hadn’t been the excellent agents they are, my lapse of judgment could have killed a lot more folks. This is my way to atone.”

“And there’s no way in hell you’d let anyone think you got taken down by some nameless thug.”

“Shit. Got me there.”

All you can do is show agreement with a knowing nod. “You know, when I first came out here, I couldn’t wait to leave. But you knew, didn’t you. You knew that I needed this.”

“I did.”

“Cocky bastard,” you mumble in loving admonishment. “Did you understand that you were nearing the end too? That you were sending me out here to give me time to be ready to bring you home?”

“I wasn’t aware of it at the time, probably a little too confident to ever think I should stop.” He turns to you, a sweet little apology in the corner of his smile. “But maybe a little part of me knew.”

“Yeah, that little part of you has gotten me into trouble before.”

He huffs a little laugh, tilts your chin up with a knuckle. Still holding your hand and sliding it inside his jacket against his chest he whispers, “Ain’t the part I was talking about, sweetheart.”

When he kisses you, it’s a different Jack than the one you used to settle for on occasion. This Jack is ready to put down his revolvers and his whip, ready to concentrate on himself, on you, on a life far from trouble. His kiss holds in it the promise of summer sunsets and long trail rides, of barbecues and lemonade and lazy mornings sleeping in. And there will be stars that are brighter...and nights under them for just the two of you. It’s a kiss that leaves no doubt that there will be many more to follow, each one with its own brand of sweetness and a happy ending well-earned.

No more distractions.

Time enough.

_____

MASTERLIST

CHARACTER MASTERLIST

[satansapostle6]

love and blood | killian jones

The course of history is changed forever when a ruggedly charming pirate’s fate is intertwined with that of a dark sorceress more powerful than any he had ever encountered.

Warnings: Violence. Mature themes/language. Sexual content.

IV. Dark Ones

V. The Witch’s Champion

Killian Jones watched with curiosity as Gorgon the supposedly Invincible rose to his feet as he offered his services to the Blood Queen.

“Thank you for your allegiance, Gorgon,” her silky voice responded. “It will not go unrewarded.”

The sorceress slowly waved two bejeweled fingers in front of the man, as, just for a split second, all of the veins in his body seemingly glowed bright red with magic. Gorgon gasped in surprise, looking upon his savior with an almost naive sense of wonder.

“What have you done?” he asked her.

“It would appear I’ve removed that nasty blood curse of yours,” she provided, only to be met with confusion. “I have a knack for that sort of magic,” she explained.

“I don’t understand,” Gorgon breathed, “No sorcerer, or sorceress, of course, has eved been able to find a cure for the curse placed upon me.”

“Like I said; blood magic is kind of my specialty,” Carmilla remarked coyly.

“An understatement,” the man stared. “Your gift is quite remarkable.”

“And now, you, too, are free to use your gift,” she reminded him.

Hook instinctively looked to his companion for an explanation, not knowing much about this Gorgon character.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Gorgon told her.

“Back when those hunters were stalking you… You took the form of a pheasant. That blood curse that was placed upon you, it made it so that you were unable to control what form you take, or when. I’ve made it so that not only are you free of that curse, but you’re free to harness your ability to take whatever shape you desire,” she answered.

“My fair lady!” Gorgon gasped. “If what you say is true, I owe you more than I could ever repay!”

“As I said before. You owe me nothing,” Carmilla promised, “Except, of course, your services as my champion.”

“Anything,” he nodded quickly. ���Now. Tell me more about this for that plagues you.”

Hook stood by Carmilla’s side as the bird remained perched on her shoulder, anxiously awaiting the development of this particular endeavor. He was slowly growing tired of Gorgon and his relentless flattery.

“The man I wish to defeat is a very powerful sorcerer; the most powerful,” she replied. “He holds the title of ‘Dark One’.”

Hook watched Gorgon’s reaction and realized this meant nothing to him. This should be interesting, he thought.

“His powers are unique?” Gorgon considered.

Carmilla nodded. “Very much so. He is, as you’ve probably gathered, a conduit of darkness itself. He’s powerful, immortal, and can only be killed by one weapon.”

“And where do we find this weapon?” Gorgon asked readily.

Hook could tell Carmilla was loving his vigilance on her behalf. It was very convenient.

“That’s the tricky part; he keeps it safely guarded,” she stated, “He’s never far from it.”

“And there’s no other weapon that can kill him?”

“Even if there was, it’s imperative you kill him with his dagger,” she emphasized, “Because if you kill him with that dagger, you take his place as Dark One.”

Gorgon considered this for a moment, processing everything he’d just heard.

“I’d be immortal?” he asked her.

Carmilla nodded. “You’d be more powerful than any sorcerer in all the realms. Including myself.”

“Forgive me for asking, my lady,” he began, “But I don’t quite see why you need me. Would it not be better if you simply killed this ‘Dark One’ yourself, and took his place?”

Hook raised an eyebrow as he turned to Carmilla, fully aware that whatever she was about to tell this man was a complete lie; Carmilla needed a champion to kill Dunstan for her and take the mantle of Dark One purely because even she knew, in all her vindictive and power-hungry glory, that the title of Dark one was not one to be coveted.

“You see, Gorgon, I’ve already come quite close to achieving immortality, as well as eternal youth,” she explained, not yet lying. “I’m over a thousand years old, for starters.”

Gorgon was at the point of shamelessly open-mouth staring at her.

“Y-You’re a thousand years old?!” he blurted out.

“Yes, I am,” she nodded, “You see, I chose to seek out a knight in shining armor, so to speak, because I have already harnessed my power. Now, it’s your turn. To become the fearsome shapeshifter you were always meant to be, and to fulfill your destiny as the next and final Dark One,” she finished with a sweet, deceptive smile.

The enticing look on her face was completely foreign to Hook. He even started to wonder if Carmella truly was completely honest with him solely because it seemed this is what it looked like when she lied.

“‘Fearsome’?” he wondered. “I could truly become Gorgon the Invincible?”

“You can, mate,” Hook nodded. “All you have to do is come with us.”

Gorgon thought for a moment, never having been faced with such a choice in his life.

“These shapeshifting powers… They’ve never made the others see me as any sort of champion,” he thought. “I’ve only ever been an outcast; a monster, or a weakling.”

“That all changes today,” Carmilla promised. “Now that your curse is lifted, you don’t have to live in fear. You don’t have to be the helpless pheasant anymore; you could choose to be whatever you like. A flighty hawk, a noble steed, or even a fire-breathing wart hog; whatever it is your heart desires.”

“A fire-breathing wart hog?” Gorgon pondered.

“Sky’s the limit,” Hook nodded.

It only took him a moment to side with Carmilla.

“I will do as you ask, my lady,” Gorgon announced with resolved, hand over his heart. “I will become the next Dark One.”

“Oh, I know you will,” Carmilla agreed, grinning uncontrollably.

*****

After a bit of coaching, Gorgon was able to used his newly discovered magical abilities to transport himself, Carmilla, and Hook to his home in the blink of an eye in a cloud of emerald green smoke. He had insisted upon preparing a meal for her his guests, which left Hook and Carmilla to sit at his table, which was large enough for four but was used to sitting one.

“Might I ask you something, Carmilla?” Hook piped up after a moment.

“If I said no, I’m sure you’d just ask anyway,” she reasoned pointedly.

“Fair enough.”

“So ask,” she said impatiently.

“Back there, in the forest,” he began, having been contemplating for a while. “You were able to rid Gorgon, a shapeshifter, of his curse.”

“I was.”

“So, why were you never able to cure Col?” Hook wondered.

He watched Carmilla’s jaw clench as the raven cawed quietly, head turned towards her. This was one of the moments where Hook particularly wished he could understand the bird. Carmilla lightly cleared her throat before speaking.

“The witch who cursed him knew my magic well,” she answered, surprising earnestly.

There was no petty irritation or sarcasm in her words.

“She knew that if she cursed him using blood magic, I would never be able to undo it. No matter what I did. The magic she was able to do was, admittedly, impressive. Even to me. Powerful stuff,” she confessed. “Not only did she make the curse impermeable, but… she managed to tether it to his life force.”

“How do you mean?” Killian asked quietly.

He watched the discomfort appear on her face for a split second before she composed herself.

“Even if I did find a way to break Col’s curse…” Carmilla told him.

He frowned sympathetically.

“He’d die.”

Her story finally made everything make sense to Hook. Now, it made even more sense to him. Carmilla, the all-powerful blood magic practitioner, couldn’t break the curse that plagued her husband because he’d die if she did. She kept him alive in his cursed raven form only because it was better than losing him altogether. The story, he thought, truly was a tragic one.

“So now you understand,” Carmilla read the expression of pity on his face, “Why his curse is the only one I cannot break.”

He nodded sadly, trying to come up with something better to offer. He looked at her, with Col sitting perched on her shoulder. The bird refused to look at her now, and even though to him it was just a bird, Killian Jones still knew the look of a man who resented his wife.

“How about we digress,” he suggested, his demeanor more playful once again, “And I ask you the other question on my mind.”

“By all means,” Carmilla allowed, seeming somewhat withdrawn.

“Why, pray tell,” Hook leaned in as he stared into her dark eyes, “Wouldn’t you, a powerful sorceress, jump at the opportunity to become the Dark One?” he murmured.

Carmilla just laughed at the idea. “Why, pirate?” she said mockingly. “Do I not frighten you enough?”

“Oh, you frighten me plenty,” he assured her. “I just don’t understand why that kind of unlimited power, and unbridled dark magic wouldn’t appeal to you.”

“Simple,” she murmured, careful to make sure Gorgon wasn’t in earshot. “I’m powerful; perhaps one of the most powerful practitioners of magic in all the realms. I’ve lived for over a thousand years all on my own. Becoming the Dark One would make the dagger my weakness, and I simply don’t need one of those,” she replied simply.

Hook understood her point, agreeing that it was prudent of her not to choose to become the Dark One, as convenient as it would be for him in his quest to exact his revenge upon the current Dark One in their time, Rumplestiltskin.

-

[punkeccentricenigma]

Hello, I saw your requests are open. So I decided to send something.

Could you write a few headcanons for the rise boys with a reader that’s from another country. And could you leave it open from where? And reader has a different native language, English would be their second language. It would be kinda funny if the turtles (or one of them) doesn’t realize reader is a foreigner at first.

I‘m not from the USA and would love to see something with a foreign reader.

Thank you and have a nice rest of your day. :3

Rise!Boys with Reader from different country

Relationship status: platonic/romantic

Reader prounouns: They/Them

TW: Some grammatical errors because english is not my first language.

Author's note: I apologize for the long wait for this order; a lot has happened in my life. Not only did many of my childhood idols turn out to be bad people, but also my mom told me to leave home after we argued, and I poured out all my grievances to her. So, well, soon I probably won't have a place to live because my savings are too small to even rent a room. Plus, my mom took away all my painkillers, and the migraines haven't disappeared, so I'm in pain all the time.

But on the bright side, with the help of my friend, I managed to create a CV, and tomorrow I'm going to submit it to a company where I can work :D Unfortunately, I'll have to wait over a month for the tests, but it will be the first step in overcoming my fear of people.

But anyway, thank you anon, have a nice day/night too!! :D

Leonardo

◇Do I really have to state the obvious as if it weren't clear? Leo is a goof; not a single thought crossed his mind that you might be even more different than him.

◇Even if April dropped subtle hints about your nationality, it just didn't register. Comics with Jupiter Jim are too captivating for him to bother with trivial facts.

◇It only hit him when your phone rang during a shared skateboarding session. When you answered and started speaking in your language, the guy literally had a Pikachu's surprised face.

◇After that, brace yourself for a million questions from the curious turtle. You'll be happy to answer.

◇Leonardo has a knack for learning languages, even if it's just basic words.

◇Thanks to Sr Hueso in his life, he's picking up Spanish. So, what's stopping him from learning your language too?

◇Btw, praise him every time he says something right; he needs that.

◇He'll also be eager to learn about cultural differences between you two. You might not seem very different, but a deeper look might reveal significant distinctions.

◇Ohohoho! National costumes? He'd gladly try them on.

◇But expect him to tease you by intentionally mispronouncing a few words or judging you based on stereotypes about people from your country.

◇If it makes you cry or get angry, he'll make sure never to do it again.

◇He likes food from your country but more as an occasional thing. If he could, he'd probably just eat pizza all the time.

Raphael

◇Raph, despite not being as dumb as Leo, suspected from the start that something was up with you that you hadn't mentioned.

◇But it never occurred to him to ask.

◇He ultimately found out from his father. Indirect, but still.

Raphael sighed throatily, rummaging through his kitchen cabinets. Your ears lightly twitched at each muffled or not-so-muffled clatter of things in those cabinets.

"What are you looking for?" Their voice carried both curiosity and a hint of irritation as she added more pepperoni slices to the light pizza dough. The turtle sighed again, this time softer, closing another cabinet to look at Their.

"I can't find any cups or glasses anywhere," his gaze expressed annoyance. "Probably those idiots kept taking new dishes instead of washing theirs, and now they're hoarding a mountain of dirty ones like hamsters."

"You complain about them, but guess whose kitchen I found a bunch of dirty plates breeding a new species in?" Their laughter started to grate on his head, but despite his efforts, a smile appeared on his rough lips.

"That's different; I, um... I'm the oldest, I'm allowed!"

"Ohohoho! [Y.N], my dear!" Splinter entered the red kitchen excitedly, appearing right behind the teenager using his ninja skills. "Are you making your delicious [Most popular dish in your country] again? My mouth waters at the mere thought!"

"Er, what?" Raph had a slightly puzzled expression, hearing about such a dish for the first time. What is that even?

"Oh, unfortunately no, just regular pizza," [Y.N] replied with an apologetic look, placing the last slice of meat. "But don't worry, maybe I'll bring that tomorrow, sounds good?"

"Oh, yes, definitely!"

◇Shortly after that incident, he asked about that dish.

"Oh? That's one of the dishes from my country."

"From your country? I didn't think America had such food to offer."

"Raph, I'm not from America."

"... What?"

◇Less surprised than Leo, but still.

◇Since then, you've been explaining everything about yourself and your country to him.

◇The biggest fan of dishes from your country, especially the way you make them.

◇Raph has a simple mind, so it will take a long time before he grasps the basics of your language, but he remembers many words that he tries to use at the nearest opportunity.

◇He loves it when he says a word correctly, and you pat him on the head as a reward.

◇As for clothing... sorry, but he's too big for that.

◇BUT, you'll make him bracelets in the colors of the flag if he insists.

◇There won't be jokes about your origin; Raph is too respectful turtle for that.

Donatello

◇He's not dumb (usually), and I think he'll be the first to ask if there's anything you haven't told him.

◇Of course, what is life without a bit of fun? You denied it.

◇Thanks to that, it was a game of cat and mouse for two weeks.

◇Eventually, Donnie hacked into one of your social media accounts where you clearly stated which country you're from. If not, he just had to check the login history in different countries.

◇Of course, he got a smack on the back of the head.

(And it's very possible his brothers put him in isolation overnight, you know, that place when Splinter had a fever? Who knows.)

◇You think he won't quickly learn the basics of your language? Dude, he taught a squirrels sign language, what can't he do?

◇Thanks to that, you can talk about various topics that shouldn't be brought up around his family in your native language.

◇And as a fun fact, wanting to surprise him, you asked Shelldon to teach you binary code. The guy was amazed, and Leo wanted to perform exorcisms on you.

◇Maybe he's not as intrigued by your culture, but he wouldn't want to offend you, so if you start talking about it, he won't stop you.

◇On the other hand, he really appreciates national costumes, maybe even doing that scene with you like they were hypnotized? You won't have to ask him for long.

◇Not a big fan of your national dishes, maybe because of the consistency? Or the unusual taste?

◇He'll likely tease you about your origin, but they'll be harmless jokes.

Michelangelo

◇Silly kid. Just a silly kid.

◇Nah, kidding, it just never crossed his mind that his friend is from a different country.

◇And you found it amusing to some extent.

◇Eventually, you told him about it when he got fascinated by a painting from your country.

◇Surprised Pikachu face ver.2

◇Probably the most excited about learning your culture, even if he doesn't understand it and it differs significantly from what's prevalent in America.

◇If your country has an unusual drawing style, he'll beg you to try it together. How can you refuse such an angel? (Not really an angel, especially when Dr. Rude comes into play)

◇He'll be the first to want to try on national costumes, both male and female.

◇He'll also want to, this time by himself, cook some dishes from your country.

◇He burned the kitchen.

◇A total failure when it comes to learning languages, so either you give up on teaching him, or you'll need a lot of patience.

◇Relatively supportive turtle, but he won't be as mindful of your origin afterward; it'll be like it used to be with the extra toppings.

[storiesofsvu]

Love Comes Quietly Ch 4

Alex Blake x reader warnings: language, mention of sex related things, alcohol, some teasing.

Alex was thoroughly enjoying her weekend, a week of not having to leave the DC area meant the house was clean, her laundry was already dealt with and the fridge was full of fresh food. The weather was gorgeous, her back patio doors slid open along with a couple of windows to let the warm breeze into the house. She’d left a playlist going from when she’d been cleaning the kitchen, now perched on the couch attempting to finish one of her fiction books before they picked up another case when the work week started the next day.

She had just finished a chapter, debating whether she was going to keep going or move onto something else when the doorbell rang. At first her brow furrowed, glancing toward the door before checking her watch and she remembered, sliding a bookmark into the book and placing it down on the coffee table. She padded over to the door, pulling it open with a bright smile on her face.

“Hey!” She greeted and you returned the grin.

“Hey! I’m so sorry I’m later than I said I would be, the storage unit took longer than I thought and then I got all turned around.”

“You find the place okay?” She asked, stepping back to let you into the house, scooping up one of the bags you’d placed down on the front step.

“Oh yeah, your directions were great, I just fucked up left and right.”

“Well… welcome.” She gestured to the house before picking up a key ring off the table in the entry way, “this is yours.”

You took it from her with a soft thanks, following her around the corner into the front sitting room, a couple of cozy sofas and chairs, a shelf lined with books and a bar cart in the corner. Down a small hallway she lead you to the room you’d be using for the time being, complete with a very comfortable looking queen bed and a full sized closet ready and waiting to be unpacked into.

“I’m sure you’re exhausted if you want a rest now I wouldn’t be surprised, that drive would take it out of me.”

“Oh it wasn’t that bad!” You assured her, though you did drop down onto the bed, pulling out a phone charger to immediately plug in, “I split it between two days, stopped in New York for that wedding last night.”

“And yet there seems to be a lack of a hangover?” She teased with a grin and you laughed.

“A pleasant lack of male strippers would be to thank for that. I doubt the bride’s parents would be alright with that kind of entertainment.”

“True.” She chuckled, softly squeezing at your shoulder, “c’mon, I’ll show you around.”

You followed her out of the bedroom, she pointed out the bathroom across the hall, noting that it would basically be your private one as the master bedroom has an ensuite. Around the curve of the hall opened up into the open living room and kitchen, patio doors leading to the backyard. The space was large, bright with sunlight, kitchen island in the middle of the room, the flooring shifting to hardwood as you shifted into the living room, two large comfy couches and an arm chair. A couple of books and a case file lay on the coffee table alongside Alex’s leftover coffee mug from that morning, the walls lined with shelves, books, nick knacks and photos littering the space, a large tv mounted on the wall across from the main couch. Alex led you down the short hallway on the other side of the room to show you the spare room you could convert into an office or whatever you wanted, her home office and a brief glance into her room before you’d circled back.

“I completely forgot to ask about rent.” You suddenly turned back to face her, leaning back against the kitchen island.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that.” She immediately waved you off.

“Alex…” You near warned and she chuckled.

“The mortgage has been paid off for years.” She shrugged, laughing again at the way you narrowed your eyes at her, “if the utilities jump, you can help with those.”

“Fine.” You admitted defeat with a warm smile, “thank you.”

“I’m the one here to lend a helping hand while you get settled, that’s what we agreed on.” She moved through the kitchen, pulling open the fridge, “I was going to do chorizo pasta for dinner later if you’re interested?”

“Sounds amazing.”

“Did you want to eat now?”

“Later’s fine.” You waved her off, “I was thinking about running to the store anyways, make sure I have a few things for the week. You need anything?”

“Hmm.” She thought for a moment, “coffee creamer.”

“Brand? Flavour? Type of milk?”

“I trust you,” she shrugged, “surprise me.”

“Alright.” You chuckled, “where’s the nearest store? Or best close by I guess.”

“There’s a Safeway just down Georgia.”

“Awesome.” You pushed off the counter, “I’ll be back in a bit.”

**

Alex knew that adjusting to having someone in her space again might be weird, or throw her off a little bit, make her change things in her daily routine that maybe she didn’t really want to change. However she found herself somewhat surprised at how much she enjoyed having you around right away. The level of comfort you found yourself in her space certainly helped, you’d made yourself right at home but not in an invasive way whatsoever, you simply weren’t tip toeing around like house guests did sometimes.

The first night she’d made dinner, you’d wordlessly started doing the dishes while continuing the conversation from the dinner table, packing up leftovers while you sipped on your wine. The two of you stayed up chatting on the couch with the television on in the background until she caught herself yawning yet again and made the call to head to bed.

Sharing your home space was something that you weren’t used to either, having been on your own for years out in Boston. You were incredibly thankful for the opportunity Alex had given you, and wanted to make sure she knew just how much you appreciated it. It took little to no effort to help with dishes, unload the clean ones (though sometimes that did end with Alex being unable to find something as it wasn’t in the spot she was used to, but it was an adjustment period after all), to make sure the coffee pot was always on in the mornings. You very much enjoyed her company, but you also knew what it was like to constantly have someone else around, so you stuck to your side of the house on quiet days.

Mornings were quiet, not too much chatter as the two of you woke up, silently moving around each other in the kitchen as breakfasts were made and lunches were packed. It was normally by the time you got into the car that the conversation would actually start. Some evenings were spent together, one of you cooking while the other perched at the kitchen island, others you’d retreat into your own space. Alex would peek into the sitting room when she was done cooking to find you curled up on one of the couches with a case file, or hear the low rumble of the television from your room, the door open only a crack to try and keep it quiet but also in a way that said she was more than welcome to come in.

It only took a matter of days for both of you to fall into the habit of cooking twice the amount of food you regularly would, even if the other person wasn’t around. It meant that mornings you went out for a run, breakfast was ready and waiting by the time you got out of the shower. That days when Alex was teaching and thus home later, there was a plate in the oven still warm for her even if you’d gone out. If she left the wine glasses out on the coffee table on a Friday night, by the time she got up the next morning they’d be washed and drying in the dish rack and if you left laundry in the dryer, you’d find it neatly folded by the time you got home. The two of you slipped into a very easy routine without even having to think about it, it just worked.

While your first month at the BAU certainly had been a lot, it went by surprisingly smoothly and quickly, you were passed your probation period before you even knew it. The team had all welcomed you with open arms and you fit in perfectly, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that you had been the right pick. Emily was already fond of you from the interview process, but getting to see you really in action in the field and how quick you were to put pieces together working cases really reassured her that you were meant to be on her team. It also didn’t hurt that outside of work hours, the two of you got along as well as you did with Alex. Emily was quick to ask if you wanted to grab a drink, introducing you to a few of her favourite places around town. If it was a weekend adventure with Emily you always knew you were in for a good, yet slightly chaotic time.

**

“You’re eating early.” Alex greeted as she returned back into the kitchen from the back yard, “what is this? Senior citizen dinner day?” You shot her a playful glare as she chuckled.

“I’m going out with Em later.”

“Doesn’t that usually entail food?”

“Yeah.” You mumbled over a bite of chicken, “but she specifically told me to Uber, so I’m sure there’s going to be more alcohol than food involved.”

Alex laughed at that, stealing a green bean off your plate, “mmm! That seasoning is delicious!”

“There’s extra in the fridge for you.”

“You’re a goddess.” She smiled, pulling open the fridge to grab a bottle of water, “you know, you and Emily have been hanging out a lot…”

“Yeah.” You shrugged, glancing up at her with a furrowed brow, “she’s fun to hang out with, knows a lot of cool places around the city.”

“Didn’t you bunk with her in Atlanta a couple of weeks ago?”

“I had to bunk with someone and they gave her an executive suite, it was an obvious choice.”

“Hmm.” She grinned softly at you and you raised a brow, still confused, “so all these nights out aren’t dates then?”

“Ew! Alex! No! Besides, if they were I would’ve told you. I do my best to not sleep with my bosses, figure it would make the work place a little too dramatic.”

“Did you really just ‘ew’ at Emily Prentiss?” She asked with a laugh and you shook your head at her holding back an eye roll, “you’re saying you don’t think she’s attractive?”

“Alex…” you shot her a warning glare, “she’s become my best friend. Is she my prettiest friend? Absolutely. Can I look at her and appreciate that she’s stunning? Yes. But I would never, and she’s not my type.”

“How so?” She raised a brow, taking the opportunity to steal another bean from your plate.

“I dunno.” You shrugged, “she’s… too daddy for me.”

“So you’re saying you prefer mommy?” She asked with a smirk and you about choked on a bite of food, feeling the heat instantly creeping up your neck and she laughed. “you should come with me to my next Pilates class, I’m sure you’d find one there.”

“I’m regretting making you dinner.” You deadpanned and she chuckled, turning back to the fridge to grab a snack, nearly ignoring what you’d said.

“You know, I’d never really thought about it, but she does kinda give off those vibes.”

“What?” You asked, distracted with your phone as it pinged with a text.

“Emily.” She stated simply, turning back to you.

“Well I mean, considering her selection of straps, she’s definitely a dominant top.”

“You’ve seen her sex toy collection and you’re still trying to convince me you two haven’t ever fooled around?”

“Not in person!” You defended, “we were having an alcohol fueled conversation about sex toys and she sent me a couple of links.”

“Yeah and which of the ones she uses is your favourite?”

“You asking for recommendations? Or are you jealous, Professor Blake?” You raised a brow and she let out a scoff of a laugh right before your phone pinged again and you swiped open the message from Emily.

“What?” She asked with a chuckle as a concerned expression took over your face.

“She just sent me the address… Swingers Club Dupont Circle?”

“Well now I certainly don’t believe that you two aren’t fooling around.” She laughed, “Call me if you need an escape out of there, or honestly even just a ride. Good luck.” She shot you a wink that you rolled your eyes at before she disappeared down the hall, leaving you alone to try to figure out what the fuck Emily was playing at.

___________________

@svulife-rl @clarawatson @hbkpop @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @swimmingstudentchaos891 @itisdoctortoyousir @temilyrights @alexxavicry @evilregal2002 @alcabots @ladysc @dextur @disneyfan624 @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @lex13cm @prentiss-theorem @happenstnces @whiteberryx @heidss @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @allyofcl @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @emobabeyy @1974-sp @theclassicgaycousin @kalixxa @leftoverenvy @bigolgay @daddy-heather-dunbar @regalmilfs4me @scorpsik

[phonkscribes]

Hi! Would you be interested in writing dating headcanons about the L4D2 survivors? Thanks in advance<3 (P.S. I love your work)

Left 4 Dead 2 Survivor dating head-canons!

Hello anon, and I'd be delighted to and thank you for enjoying the work I put out! I don't have a clever quip to throw in this time so without further a-do, here are your head canons.

Nick

He's an asshole to everyone, but he's soft when it comes to you. Especially if you don't pick up on sarcasm like everyone else.

He'd never try to yell or raise his voice at you like he would with others too. Nick is patient and holds up on you when you start to lag behind

It's a surprising display of intimacy that has the others making eyes at him and looking smug. 'Didn't think you had it in ya, Nick'.

He smiles a little more, and tries to be romantic in spite of the setting.

It's the little things that make the world go 'round, and he's got a knack for doing them for you, intentionally or not.

Needed pills for something? He's got you covered, even if he thought he needed them more.

Instead of giving you your share of compliments and nick names, he'd point out your habits and say that they're cute and call you other names: 'I think it's really cute how you play with your hair when thinking about something' / 'Alright let's get out of here stinky'

Ellis

He is the sweetest guy.

He loves telling stories to you, and he always plays them up to try and make you laugh.

Ellis will take you sight seeing around Savannah, or try and take you out to a fancy date he's prepared(beer on the roof top)

He likes to show you off or brag that he has you as his S/O.

"Damn I'm so lucky to have you, y'know"

He will get sad if he's separated from you for too long, and hope that you're okay whenever you two get separated from each other for whatever reason.

He's a hugger, and will often reach his arms around to hug you from behind whenever he has the chance.

Says "I love you" a lot. Do not fight him on this because he'll just keep saying he loves you more or hit you with a "nuh-uh"

Nick gets tired of this whenever it happens.

Rochelle

She's the boss when it comes down to it, stubborn as a mule but if you're really against something she'll hear you out on it.

If Nick says some shit to you, she'll whip something witty right back at him that makes him either scoff or shuts him right up.

Rochelle beams at you whenever you save her from one of the special infected, hyping you up with that gorgeous smile of hers.

"Yep, that's mine right there", as you help her up.

She likes to bring you little gifts here and there, especially when you need them without ever asking for them out loud.

"Here, I thought you might need this", and she presses it into your hands with a small smile as she looks up into your eyes

She is likes to hold your hand as you two travel, or have your pinkies intertwined when you need to break away for a fight

She likes to press her back against yours, feeling safe that you've got hers when it comes down to it.

Rochelle thinks you're a lot cooler than you may let yourself believe

Coach

He's right behind you every step of the way, and will lift you up anyway he can. Except for literally, he might hurt his back if he tries to do that.

The two of you eat good, even for the apocalypse, he won't let you eat nothing trashy but also nothing that will put either one of you in a theoretical ER.

Will pull you off to the side if he sees that you're feeling down or are bummed out about something.

He's real good at talking with you about things

Absolutely loves giving you little kisses on the top of your head or your hands, anywhere he can really

His love language is words of affirmation(I am so sure on this)

Likes to praise you, congratulating you on good shots and a bit more lenient with you when you make bad ones.

Coach is endearing though, never the "ooh now personally I wouldn't have done that" kinda comments.

He likes to guide your hands when he steps behind you, "try it like this"

He likes to hold you close in his arms, and letting you listen to his heart as you two rest up.

"Everything's gon' be alright baby, I've got ya"

[imagines--galore]

||Mind Over Matter|| Part Six

Summary:  Evelyn is Penelope Garcia’s protegé. She is a tech  wiz, and knows her  way around any kind of security and just like her  mentor knows how to  dig deep and get into the past of anyone and has a  knack for anything  with a chip in it. Including potato chips. The one  thing she fails at  is figuring out is the mind and how it works. Rated T  for blood and   language.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Evelyn Richardson(OC)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure. Family. Some language, blood and violence in later installments.

Previously - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five,

A/N: Hope you enjoy!

Takes place during episode seven season one.

For the first time in weeks it was a slow day at the office. Those were rare days really. Considering it was the FBI she worked for. Or with? She didn't really have a clue which one it was. But it didn't matter.

Not many people had screwed up their computers or needed any dirt on someone, so Evelyn had decided to run to the nearest bakery and get herself a cream roll. She had been craving one of those things for ages and since she hadn't had the time to make one herself, had opted to get one. Walking her way back from the bakery she caught sight of a familiar figure emerging from a car. Her lips pulled into a smile as she quickly walked over to the person.

"Went to get some new books did we?" She asked as soon as she was within hearing range of the person, who jumped, startled at her sudden appearance. Evelyn snorted.

"One would think that after almost two years since we've known each other, you would've gotten used to my popping up out of nowhere." Spencer shook his head.

"Not when you do it at random. Your appearances are very irregular you know." He commented, starting to walk towards the FBI building while the red head fell into step next to him. Evelyn sniffed, pushing her glasses further up her nose as she did.

"Why don't you admit that you have no idea when and where I would turn up from unlike those UnSubs of yours?" Spencer gave her an unamused look.

"They have a pattern that they repeat making it easier for us to get a location or to predict when and where they would appear, you on the other hand." He shook his head, shrugging. "Not so much." Evelyn snorted.

"Way to tell a woman she's weird Spencer." The young genius spluttered on whatever he was about to say, just as the two of them entered the bullpen.

"I didn't!" He semi-shouted. His friend only shook her head, grinning from ear to ear as she reached up to pet him on the head like a puppy.

"Its alright. I'll take it as a compliment." She said, before turning and waving to JJ as she passed by to get to her office. JJ smirked at the slightly miffed look Spencer had on his face.

"Caught you again by surprise huh?" She asked, gaining his attention. Her words held more then one meaning but Reid turned to her.

"She is unpredictable." He stated before walking over to his desk and sitting down, riffling through the bag that held his new books.

JJ sighed as she shook her head.

Oblivious the both of them.

                                             ————————–

"Hey Evelyn? Penelope?"

Both women looked up from the respective desks to see JJ standing in the doorway a small smile on her lips.

"Hotch is here." Mentor and Protege shared a grin before standing up and following after their Team's Media Liaison. Catching sight of a familiar figure standing near the elevator the three women made their way towards him. Evelyn gave a small friendly smile at the woman standing next to her superior.

"Hello Mrs. Hotchner."

Haley Hotchner smiled and waved back at the red head, before turning turning her attention to her husband who was holding their new born son. Evelyn's blue eyes turned to look at the squirming little bundle, as she stood next to Spencer.

"Congratulations." Reid said his tone monotone as per the norm. Evelyn shoved him slightly in the back to get him to move forward. He shot her a glare, which she returned with an innocent look. She knew how Reid was cautious around babies. She had no idea why though since she had never asked. But that didn't mean she couldn't get a kick out of teasing him about it every now and then.

"He's so gorgeous." JJ said, moving forward, smiling as she watched Jack squirm slightly in his father's arms.

"Thank you." Mrs Hotchner said, her eyes shining with love and pride as she looked at her son. Evelyn waved her fingers in the baby's direction.

"Hey there handsome." She cooed as the baby turned his head in her direction.

"If you find baldness and wrinkles attractive." Reid muttered, earning him a glare from his friend, as she nudged him lightly.

"Look at his little witty bitty nose." Penelope cooed, smacking Spencer on the shoulder as she did, not taking her eyes off the baby. Just then Morgan stuck his head in the space between her and Spencer's shoulder, looking at the baby as well.

"Don't you want one of these?" The blonde asked him. Morgan hummed under his breath before grinning.

"I'll stick to practicing." The small group laughed, minus Spencer who just gave a slight frown. Just then Elle appeared from behind them, smiling lightly, as she nodded at the new parents.

"Congratulations." She said.

Both parents thanked her, before Hotch spoke up, nodding towards his wife.

"She's amazing. I'm a little terrified." He admitted, although he was still smiling.

"Well, uh, we should get going." The new mother said, as Hotch agreed with her, placing his son carefully into the stroller. Evelyn waved at the baby yet again as Reid spoke up from next to her.

"Pleasure seeing you, Mrs Hotchner."

As soon as they were out of her hearing range Penelope nudged Morgan as the two of them with Evelyn and Spencer following after them, made their way towards their desk area.

"Stick to practicing huh?" She said a teasing glint in her eye. Morgan chuckled under his breath.

"I think I would prefer the product of that practice." Morgan turned to raise an eyebrow at the red head who blushed lightly, as she trained her eyes to look at her hands that were fiddling with a string of her shirt.

"I said that out loud didn't I?" She murmured sheepishly, before looking up and continuing.

"But come on think about it. You'd have a person to care and love for, for the rest of your life." Spencer snorted.

"A person who would scream, wail and constantly want your attention?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Evelyn scowled at him, before she smirked.

"You just described the whole of the species of human beings Spence." She grinned, prompting Penelope and Morgan to laugh at her statement, and for the latter to reach forward and patting the young genius on the back.

"She's right about that Pretty Boy." He said, just as Penelope chimed in.

"So you thinking of having big family Evelyn?" The red head blushed again as all eyes were directed towards her but she nodded.

"If I meet the right guy yes." She smiled. Penelope hummed under her breath.

"I think I would go for a small family." She said, as she started to walk towards her office. Evelyn turned to Morgan, looking up at him expectantly. The man simply raised in hands.

"I don't plan that ahead Ginger." He said, earning a small pout from the young woman. He nudged the young genius standing next to him, grinning.

"Why don't you ask Pretty Boy here?" He asked laughing lightly under his breath at the surprised and sightly terrified look on his friend's face. Before either of them had the time to say something Elle called out to Reid and Morgan. The younger man very nearly ran for the conference room with a laughing Morgan behind him, walking at a leisurely pace. Evelyn smiled as well, making a mental note to ask the question again later, as she made her way to her's and Penelope's office.

                                             ————————–

Evelyn was sitting alongside Penelope going through a series of paperwork when Hotch walked into the office.

"I need you two to run a back ground check on the Crawford's financials." He said, turning the pages of the file he was holding. Evelyn immediately dropped her papers in a considerably neat stack, turning towards her computer, while Penelope started to type into her computer.

"Evelyn you look through the father. I'll look through the mother." She ordered her eyes skimming over the window that had popped up. The red head hummed in response as her own eyes skimmed over the computer screen, while Hotch dialed the number for Gideon's office phone. Putting the call on speaker he waited patiently as the line connected. The line clicked as Gideon accepted the call.

"Gideon, we've been looking into the Crawford financials." Hotch began getting right to the point as per the norm.

"Allison Crawford spent way more money than Chris could afford." Penelope summarized what she had read. "They were in major debt." She added as an afterthought.

"And Chris Crawford wrote a number of checks for a series of visits to a therapist." Evelyn said, offering her side of the research.

"She had 2 cell phone accounts one of them billed to a separate address in southeast Washington, D.C." Penelope quickly recounted as the number flashed on the screen in front of her.

"Did you get that?" Hotch asked, as Evelyn continued to try and find anything unusual on the father.

"Yeah! We'll go check out the address." Gideon said over the phone, the line clicked before it went dead, and Hotch all but raced out of the office.

"Not so much as a thank you." Penelope muttered, playfully earning a small smile from her partner.

                                             ————————–

"Are you planning on heading home at all?"

Evelyn looked up to see Gideon standing next to her desk. She glanced around noticing how the bullpen was almost empty save for a few agents who were packing up for the day. She frowned, as she checked her watch before her eyes widened behind her glasses.

"I didn't realize what the time was." She muttered sheepishly as she stood up pushing away the night vision goggles and heat vision camera she had been fiddling with for the past three hours. Stretching her arms over her head she heaved a sigh when the aching in her back lessened, something else she failed to notice.

"Are you just leaving?" She asked, picking up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. Her superior shrugged.

"I was thinking of grabbing something to eat before heading back home." He motioned towards the corridor.

"Why don't you come with me? It'll give us time to talk. I haven't had the chance to have a one on one with you. I'll drop you home afterwards." He suggested. Evelyn immediately nodded.

"Sure. I can leave my car in the parking lot and tell the night guard." She grinned as she fell into step next to the Agent.

"I'll bother Spencer about picking me up for work tomorrow."

Out of the whole Team Spencer and Evelyn were the only one's who lived near each other. The both of them were only a block away from the other's home. Gideon nodded, giving a small smile as he led the way to his car.

                                             ————————–

"So how's the case going?" Evelyn asked as she took a bite of her steak, chewing it quickly.

Gideon had taken her to one of the places the two of them often frequented. The waitress would greet them both warmly and the chef would wave at them from behind the counter. It was more of a diner then a restaurant and the environment was warm and friendly/ The staff knew their regulars and the two of them would order the same thing when they came there since it was something they both enjoyed.

She hadn't realized how hungry she was until the food had been placed in front of her. After that it was a few minutes of complete silence as the two Agents started eating. Gideon nodded lightly, yet his face was grim.

"Its going alright, but we're not here to talk about the case." He said, giving her a pointed look to which she responded with a nod, pushing a piece of medium rare beef around her plate.

"I know." She mumbled, licking her lips, her free hand came up to push her glasses further up her nose before it went to play with the strand of hair hanging on the right side of her head. She didn't look up. Gideon rested his hands on the surface of the table, his gaze steady as he looked at the young woman sitting across from him.

"She didn't respond did she?" Evelyn didn't even bother asking how he had known. Her lack of response had been answer enough. Nonetheless she shook her head.

"She didn't even look at me when we both went there. She just came in caught sight of me and then left." A dejected sigh escaped her as she finally speared the piece of beef and pushed it into her mouth.

"You would think that after almost four years she would've at least said hello," She paused as she shook her head.

"Thats like asking for a miracle." The red head looked up to see the older agent nod in a sympathetic manner.

"Years of rivalry don't just go away, even after a few years Evelyn." He told her, taking a sip of the drink he had ordered with his dinner.

"But I don't even know what the rivalry is all about." She protested, leaning forward in her chair slightly as she did. Gideon nodded once again.

"I know, you don't. And whatever the reason for the cold shoulder I know its not your fault." Evelyn blinked at her superior before frowning slightly.

"How can you be so sure about that?" She asked, her voice low, as it always got when she was confused. Gideon gave a small smile.

"I only had to meet your sister once Evelyn and that was enough. I am a Profiler you know." The young woman gave a small smile as she nodded.

"And from what I have gathered from your accounts about her I would say she is simply doing all this out of jealousy." He continued. She nodded.

"I know. You've told me that before." The two of them lapsed into silence, continuing with their dinner. Evelyn's head was buzzing with thoughts and possibilities on why her sister would be jealous of her, before she felt a warm large hand pat her shoulder lightly. She looked up to see Gideon giving her a sympathetic look.

"Don't sweat it kid. We'll figure it out sooner or later." He reassured her. She smiled gratefully and nodded.

                                             ————————–

The horn sounded again, making Evelyn want nothing more then to hit her friend over the head with her bag, as she ran down the driveway of her house towards his car, pushing her glasses in place as she did.

"Are you trying to wake the dead or something?" She asked, as she slid into the passenger seat. Spencer didn't even glance at her, as he started to drive down the road.

"Waking the dead is technically impossible Evelyn." He countered, missing the eye roll his friend gave him, as he continued.

"And could you come around and check my computer when you get the time. It's got a virus or something. I don't know." He shot her a helpless look, taking his eyes off the road for a second before turning back. The red head smiled. She knew her friend was helpless when it came to technology. How he had been living his life without a cellphone or a computer till she came was a mystery to her. She had been the one to introduce him with everything she thought he might need to know. And she was the one who kept him updated on the new and improved tech that came along year after year. But there were always new things being introduced and Evelyn couldn't teach him fast enough.

"Did you try to download something again Spencer?" She asked, knowing it would be the only reason a virus could get into a system. Spencer's ears turned a bright red as he mumbled an affirmative making the red head sigh and shake her head.

"I'll come over and check it out but please don't try downloading anything again till after I say so." She chided him lightly as he turned the car into the parking lot of their office. He nodded as he parked the car.

"Yes, ma'am." He mumbled, as they both got out. Evelyn took a deep breath as she straightened the strap of her bag and the front of the button up she was wearing that day.

"Maybe I should start charging you for all the repairs I do." She called after her friend, who had already begun to walk towards the building, as she ran to catch up with him. She very nearly had to jog to keep up with his fast pace sometimes.

"And walk slow!" She whined as she fell into step next to him, not even out of breath. "I know I'm short but do you have to remind me by walking so fast with those damn long legs of yours." Spencer chuckled as he opened the door, holding it open for her, after he passed through.

"Alright. I'll match your short pace." He said, walking next to her, hands stuffed in the pockets of the pants he was wearing and smirking at her. Evelyn punched him lightly on the shoulder.

"And I'll try and meet up to your high standards." She grinned at him as the two of them entered the bullpen.

                                             ————————–

JJ glanced up from the desk just in time to see Spencer and Evelyn separate from where they had entered the bullpen together. Both of them with slight smiles on their faces. She may not be a profiler but JJ had seen the way Spencer had been the previous day. Everyone on the Team was tense about the Unsub sneaking in and murdering families. And Spencer and Evelyn were no better. She knew that they were still worried of course, but it did amaze her how even with all the chaos going around them the two of them seemed to smile whenever they were around each other. JJ hadn't been around the Team for very long but she had been around long enough to know or rather suspect that whatever Spencer and Evelyn shared was something that was on a much more deeper level.

The only problem was that neither of them realized it. Which was strange because if an outside like her could see it why couldn't they? She wasn't really surprised though, neither of them seemed to be quick when it came to normal thing and she also knew that if she ever tried bringing it up both of them would simply say that the reason behind it was that they were both socially awkward.

Although how that related to this problem was something she did not or could not get.

Shaking her head JJ made a promise to look for more signs before she confronted either of the two or both of them. That was the logical thing to do.

                                             ————————–

Penelope tapped her foot impatiently as she watched the young technician fiddle with a couple of wires.

"Its a good thing the computer fried after the information was sent out huh?" She asked, her voice slightly muffled because of the small pliers she held between her teeth since her hands were busy. Penelope huffed.

"There is no goof time for my computers to go berserker." She grumbled, clearly not happy with the little predicament she was in. Her protege quickly hid a smile as he cut a bit of naked wire before wrapping it up with tape and connecting it with the right slot. Closing the lid she patted the top before dusting her hands.

"Give it a try." She said, glancing up at her friend. Penelope wasted no time in doing just that and immediately very nearly squealed with delight when her computers started to work again.

"Evelyn. You are a life saver!" She crowed, settling into her chair, or rather throne as Evelyn called it and started to reboot her entire system. The red head smiled as she placed her pliers in her messenger bag.

"No problem. I'm just gonna go see if the others are back yet." She called over her shoulder as she exited the office, but Penelope didn't even glance up from her computers making Evelyn shake her head lightly before making her way over to her main desk in the bullpen.

Not long after Spencer had exited their office with the much needed and critical information Penelope's computers had glitched and crashed. And since no virus could get into her system it had to be a wire. And that was where Evelyn came in. While the red head worked on her computers Penelope had turned to Evelyn's computer to work the case. The Team meanwhile had finally been able to crack the case and had identified the UnSub. As she placed her bag on her desk Evelyn looked up to see JJ sitting not very far away. Grabbing two cups of coffee from the coffee machine she stood next to her friends desk, taking a sip as she did and holding out the second glass of the beverage to her friend who took it with a grateful smile.

"When do you think they will get back?" She asked. JJ shrugged and pointed in Spencer's direction.

"Ask genius over there." The words were barely out of her mouth when Reid, not even looking up from his book answered.

"They will be here within twenty minutes or so. They have been gone for quite awhile." He closed his book with a snap, as he stood up as well and walked the few paces to stand next to Evelyn who was frowning worriedly as she took another sip of her coffee.

"I just hope he didn't harm the new family." She muttered her eyes trained towards the elevator of the bullpen. JJ sighed lightly as she stood up to stand next to the red head as well, her arms crossed over her chest. She had only just opened her mouth to speak when the elevator doors opened and Morgan marched out leading a man by the collar his hands cuffed behind him. Evelyn's blue eyes, narrowed behind her glasses as she glared at the man, being led to the interrogation room.

She wasn't the only one.

The whole of the bullpen had silenced as the man walked down the length of the office, every single agent glaring at the monster being led to what he deserved. The monster, however seemed to be ill at ease.

"Hello." He called to a female agent as he walked by, earning him a shove from Morgan.

"Let's go." Morgan all but growled out, steering him towards the interrogation room. They passed by the three of them and the man nodded in their direction his eyes darting from Evelyn to JJ.

"Hey. How are you?" He inquired. Whether the comment was directed at her or JJ, Evelyn couldn't tell. She was boiling with anger on the inside and Spencer subtly and almost unconsciously stepped in front of Evelyn, blocking her from the man's view while Morgan shoved him much more harder this time.

"Keep it moving." He ordered, while blue, eyes widened behind their large glass frames as they caught sight of the freshly wrapped bandage on his arm.

                                             ————————–

Her heart was heavy as she placed nearly eight files on the conference table around which the members of the BAU Team sat. Each file was a murder case that was left unsolved and labeled as a suicide case. Each case had a family of five murdered. Hotch had been able to recover the trophies Karl Arnolds had taken whenever he murdered a family.

The father's wedding bands.

Evelyn felt her own father's wedding band grow heavier as it rested against her chest, beneath her shirt, as she stood between Gideon and Hotch as the former stared into the box before he tilted the small compartment revealing the eight families Karl Arnolds had killed just because he had lost his.

                                          ————————-

Tag List - @lovelyygirl8

[ticecapelo]

Diamonds and Spades | CHISHIYA X READER

Type: Chishiya x Reader

Warnings: Violence, Sexual Innuendo, Inappropriate Language. English is not my first language, please be patient.

Summary: This man is definitely a Diamonds player. Chishiya is as manipulative as he is smart. Or maybe he's smart because he's manipulative, but who cares? Lovelie is an excellent Spade player, but only violent with her tongue. The kind Chishiya hates the most, goodie, that she turns the other cheek and raises her hand to help God and the world. Two different personalities, but are they as different as they think they are? Perhaps both of you are willing to try out a different character type? This story is a big maybe. !!!Season Two Spoilers!!!

Author's Notes: This was my delirium while I was dreaming about Chishiya at dawn, I hope you enjoy it. All chapters have a theme song, so if you pay attention you can understand the characters' personalities more if you pay attention to the lyrics of the songs, especially the lyrics that I show you.

Don't be surprised by the protagonist's name, I was on Tiktok when I saw a video with the theme "Names of African origin and their meanings" And Lovelie was the best match for my heroine.

I saw you from afar

And I didn't even realize how similar I am to you

I heard your name

And something inside me said I should meet you

So I got closer, but when you looked at me

Words got away and all I could do was say hi

Little did I know that was all you needed to hear

Hear from me

Because the rest you did, you remade me

Instantly, I fell in love with you

ME REFEZ • Priscilla Alcantara

Diamonds and Spades 1 | Instantly...

Chishiya watched the players one by one, reading each one, watching, listing, learning.

— This is a Game of Hearts, it's the kind that plays with people's feelings — Arisu's voice came to mind as he went over the rules trying to discover some more tricks, besides the most obvious ones: Playing Players against each other.

Luckily for Chishiya, he already had a partner he could trust, however, the duo between the shy and the serial killer was a novelty that left him perplexed. Maybe it's the Banda? No, this game wouldn't be that easy...

His eyes roamed between the formed group and the other duos who preferred to stay away from the majority, however, there was something even more peculiar, a loner who preferred to trust random people than actually ally with someone.

At first he thought it was extremely overzealous and stupid care.

She's going to die for sure — That's what he thought when he saw that attitude in the first 3 rounds.

But after the 7th round he finally saw a pattern in her behavior, in addition to avoiding the group formed in the game, she asked different people more than once, when they were accompanied by 1 or no person.

So she's choosing for the majority? He's playing with the odds, maybe. Or maybe, she's just really playing with her luck... Who knows?

Perhaps she is the Jack of Hearts, which explains why she prefers to be alone. No, the Knave would not expose himself so easily, many lied to her because they suspected her preference for solitude, but she still won every game.

But if that's the case, she has a certain knack for manipulation, unlike the other girl who formed the group and poisoned him from the inside out, she did have a true purity, a kindness. She could tell when someone ventured to ask her to look at her suit, after being suspicious of her friends. She hasn't lied once.

She was someone who really stood out, literally. Maybe she was American?

Her body was much thinner than the beauty standard required in Japan, to the point that her breasts were almost non-existent under the black dungarees and white dress blouse. Her hips were wider than the standard Japanese body, her skin was dark, her eyes brown, her hair full and curly. Chishiya thought she was taller, but it didn't take her long to notice the platform shoes. She must have been around 1.63. The shoes gave him an extra inch.

At the beginning of the game, a lady in the cafeteria even asked to touch the girl's hair, which she allowed with a smile on her face despite the clear discomfort in her eyes. That's when he discovered her name: Lovelie.

Lovelie took the same crackers and snacks every time, one of the most unusual things Chishiya saw her take was a bottle of lemon flavored soda which when it reached her lips she spit out what was in her mouth and coughed up what went down her throat.

At one specific moment, Chishiya was sure he saw her trying to hide her tears after a man died. He had asked her to look at his suit, and she had given him the right answer, yet he died, which means someone tricked him.

Every time Lovelie left her office, almost like a ceremony, she would stand in front of her banker for a full minute, as if she were meditating.

When there were only 6 people playing, Chishiya had no choice but to appeal to Matsushita and Kotoko.

Matsushita lied, Kotoko didn't say anything, Yaba and Banda are not an option. So the doctor's only way would be...

— Your name is Lovelie, right? — Lovelie, your last hope.

When she turned around, after picking up another bottle of water and a package of snacks, Lovelie came face to face with Shuntaro, the sudden approach made her move away as soon as she noticed his presence.

— Yes — Taking three steps back, she kept a safe distance.

— Hi, I'm Chishiya — He raised his hand towards the girl with his usual indifferent smile.

Despite not being a fan of that kind of approach, Shuntaro felt that if he wanted to have any chance of getting the foreigner's help, he would need a much more delicate plan.

— Could you look at my suit? I asked Matsushita, but I don't know if I can trust you. Would you do this favor for me? I swear I'm looking at yours, and I'm not going to lie — Lovelie watched him for a while with an expression that was new to Chishiya, one he hadn't seen her wear all afternoon and that only now appeared to him.

This time her curly hair was loose, covering her necklace.

— I didn't ask your name — she replied without any expression, with her eyes glazed over the doctor's face.

That took him by surprise, she was kind and docile all afternoon, this change could mean she was faking it all this time, which means her word is not to be trusted either. But that's just a theory.

Her eyes had distrust, contempt, fear… Maybe it's a mixture of all three.

— Look, you're absolutely right. — Chishiya sighed as if Lovelie had opened his eyes to an error he wouldn't have noticed without her, and then put his hands in his pockets. — I should be more polite with you. But in a situation like ours, that kind of presentation becomes a bit unnecessary, don't you think?

— I don't think so, especially in a game where the objective is to trust each other.

— Well, that hasn't been working so well. — Suddenly they both turned their attention to the room, which would soon be completely empty when they left, with silence taking over and warning that even a few rounds ago, this place would have been full of people.

Lovelie widened her eyes for a moment and lowered her head, closing her face even more, an attitude that was absorbed by Chishiya when she realized what subject he was talking about. Without saying anything, Lovelie tried to leave the cafeteria with her head down, but was stopped by the Japanese boy's voice.

— I'm sorry for the man who died, but… there's no need to blame yourself, you gave him the right suit, he didn't believe you because he didn't want to, maybe he chose that, not everyone has the strength to stay here — A sentence made her stop in the middle of the way, you could see the heavy breathing by the slow movement of the body even with her back.

— He had 3 daughters and a wife. — Chishiya faltered at her expression for a moment. — I heard him talking to the others, he just wanted to go back and see his wife and children. — She turned towards the doctor who composed himself automatically. A beautiful smile and a tear running down her face. — 'I swear I say yours' is what you said, but your word counts for nothing. I've seen you play, you manipulate the board or throw wood on the fire, let them burn and then you run away alive.

— You know me?

— I used to live with Beach — The blonde was perplexed by the information, but soon corrected himself.

— I never saw you there.

— I was kind of the Hatter's protégé, I couldn't speak Japanese or read, but I understood the language well, he helped me and kept me away from the noisiest — Chishiya stared at her waiting for some more information. — I have auditory sensitivity.

— OK I understand. Gun games must be a terror to you.— Changing the subject didn't help, Lovelie continued to glare at him as if to say "Your turn" — I didn't lie the whole game, why would I lie now?

— Who's to say I'm not the Knave of Hearts?

— Because I know who the Knave is and it's not you.

— And who's to say it's not you? — She took a step forward.

— You already know who it is, but you found out too late, he had already made the spider web and you didn't have the power to kill him, if it were me, you would be avoiding me, not being shy. You're not the type to lie, even if it's to win, that's why you avoided everything and everyone, that's why you preferred to play with probability asking 4 or more people what their suit was, to make sure that none of them lied. But you haven't lied once. — Suddenly there was a guilty light in the brown eyes.

— I'm sorry about your partner. — The low voice was easily heard in the spacious room, with so much echo it was easy to see the delicate remnants of what was once an accent.

— How do you know I didn't kill him on purpose?

— Because you're too smart to deduce that it could be him… And because I know you were honest with him, I saw the suit. I actually thought you were going to lie, I intended to tell him the truth — Again, the unexpected words ripped through Shuntaro who had to struggle to maintain his poise. — I was relieved when I saw you didn't lie to him, and I saw the pain in his eyes when he realized he died. Which means either he didn't trust you, or...

— He killed himself — he concluded, leaving another line of silence between them — You're not Japanese, are you?

— What makes you think that? He chuckled ironically. Shuntaro ran his eyes over the girl with a certain curiosity, answering silently. The girl chuckled a little at Shiya's expression — Turn around — He looked up looking for any catch. — I need you to turn around to see your suit. — Walking like an angel, Lovelie walked over expecting Chishiya.

— You first. — The man looked at her, memorizing each movement. Soon Lovelie obeyed and turned around tying her hair again, letting Chishiya see the heart symbol on the screen. — Hearts. He turned around, waiting for an answer.

Chishiya shuddered a little as she felt the slender fingers at the back of her neck ruffling her hair to see the necklace.

— Diamonds. — Chishiya exhaled through her nose and a smile formed. — Matsushita lied to you too? — He turned, now they were both much closer.

— Too?

— Matsushita told me it was Clubs. — An embarrassed smile crept across his face.

— And how are you sure I'm not the one lying?

— I don't know. — His eyes roamed the room before turning back to face Chishiya who now had the most neutral expression he could manage. — I guess I'll just have to go with my gut. — Lovelie opened the bag of snacks and cupped the doctor's hand, then turned the bag over, spilling some snacks onto her palm before leaving without another word.

Chishiya's eyes only gave up following her when it was already impossible to see her. The robotic voice sounded warning about the next round, but Shuntaro remained exactly where he was, now staring at the savory snacks in her hand. Looking at the savory ones he thought of all the information he had acquired about her.

The way to walk, to act, to talk.

In these games the true nature of all players comes to the fore, be it calm as still water, or desperate as fire.

Try as she might, nothing about her gave her a red flag. Quite the contrary, she was honest from start to finish.

Finally he had the conclusion about her first actions, Lovelie believed he was the Knave, yet she tried to treat him as kindly as her heart would allow.

How pathetic... She's defiant and idiotic at the same time.

I don't know how she's still alive…

Strength and kindness at the same time.

It's a mix of Kuina and Arisu. It was just what I needed...

She is very dumb...

— Matsushita lied to me, Kotoko didn't even look at my face. Which means it can only be Spades or Diamonds… — she thought aloud inside the fortified room. — The Lovelie… — He was thoughtful for a moment, staring at the small window in the doorway, taking in the front door, the room where Lovelie was. His eyes flickered and he smirked as he crossed his arms. — I don't know if she would lie to me. Guess I'm going to have to… Follow my intuition too.

.

.

.

Chishiya was disappointed when he noticed that she didn't leave her room when the round ended. So that's right, she believed he was the Knave and chose to believe Matsushita instead. And yet she chose not to lie to him.

Banda and Yaba took the Knave to torture him, Shuntaro was ready to leave that arena soon before he had any bad luck.

When he got close to the exit, Chishiya heard the sound of the heavy door being opened and then closed on the second floor.

A glint filled his eyes before he turned and squinted to see the shadow walking on the second floor.

— So you believed me — he said, loud enough for her to hear even from this distance. Lovelie cracked a smile and a short but delicious laugh came out of his mouth.

— And you in me — Walking a little faster Lovelie went down the stairs and arrived at the same distance that the two had in the cafeteria. — I preferred to leave after you talked to Matsushita, when I saw you talking I was afraid to intrude, one manipulator at a time is fine with me.

— Called me a manipulator? — Your usual smile.

— You're manipulative. — He laughed even louder.

— Going somewhere? — He noticed the full bag on the girl's back.

— The rules didn't say anything about stealing food.

— I noticed, and then what?

— The last letters are missing, I'm going after them, and you?

— I still have a few days left on my visa, how about you?

— Jack of spades.

— Swords are not my specialty.

— But it's mine, so that's where I'm going. — A silence fell between them, like a challenge to see who would deign to ask first.

— Then that's it.

— It was a pleasure officially meeting you, Shuntaro Chishiya.

— The pleasure is all mine, Lovelie — For an instant Chishiya saw what would be a new light in her eyes go out, and a smile took over his own face, a smile that he didn't control, nor did he notice that he was smiling.

— See you another day, doctor — The girl turned around walking away, beyond her steps it was possible to hear the airship explode along with your letter and fall somewhere in the city, Chishiya followed on the opposite side of the street where Lovelie was walking, and even if they didn't know it, they both looked back as they walked away.

Instantly, I fell in love with you…

[iiboronii]

OMG WHAT IF ARTIC ASSOCIATES AVIE WITH PERIWINKLE FLOWERS OR GIVES SOME TO HER AS A GIFT

Them being blue reminds me of your banner image, and this page says they represent "early and sincere friendship" :D

Sometimes I think about that scene of them outside the factory where Artic's explaining how the wings work and Avie brought her snacks and I just smile. They're besties your honor!!!!!

I imagine it'd be hard to find fresh flowers given the state of the valley, and the Onceler promoting fake flowers bc "They come in any shape and color no matter the season, and you never have to worry about them wilting! Who needs real flowers anyways!"

So I'm picturing Artic flying into what's left of the valley, trespassing on company property, to find some ouo

Maybe they end up in one of those windowsill planters, being well taken care of and faring much better than they would at the mercy of an axe-hacker. And a sweet scent in the air whenever Avie walks by the window -u-

STOP THIS IS SOOO CUTE I LOVE ARTIC AND AVIE AS BESTIES THEY'RE LITERALLY THE BESTEST FRIENDS EVER <3 They just chill in my head sometimes tbh, going about their lives and doin' whatever.

No but I can see Avie being SO SHY to take the flowers Artic got for her. She's a social butterfly, but she's never been great at recieving gifts or anything. There's always this "oh no, are you sure?" moment with her when you give her ANYTHING. And she's super sentimental so her estate is decorated with a whole bunch of knick knacks that she's recieved over the years :)

Ohhh the Onceler. Back at it again, promoting his business. "Try these fake flowers! They'll never die, as they're made entirely out of plastic! Just like the entire city will be soon! You could never find this shade in the wild, no matter how hard you tried, but we have it here for you, ready to purchase at your nearest retailer!" One day, Avie's lamenting to Artic about how she misses real flowers, just something pretty and bright and alive, and then a lightbulb goes off in Artic's head. There's gotta be some real flowers around here, right?

So Artic, slightly defiantly, because she's annoyed at the Onceler for being... Like That, soars into the now barren Truffula Valley, scouring the land for flowers. Anything, really, that would give Avie something nice to look at and care for. And then she finds something perfect!!! Periwinkles!! And ofc Artic knows what the meaning is and I'm sure she's like "yeahhhh that's exactly what I was looking for!!"

And like I said, Avie loves gifts but she's very shy about getting them. "You thought of me?" is the first thing that comes out of her mouth when she's presented with 'em. It's somehow surprising that somebody would think of her with such a sweet gesture. And Artic is like "yeah? It was either you or the axe, and I think you'll take much better care of them." Eventually Avie takes them and Artic asks her if she knows flower language and ofc Avie has no clue. So Artic explains that periwinkles are all about friendship and by the end of it Avie is tearing up a little bc it's such a sweet and lovely gesture. "You thought of me because we're friends?" It ends with Avie giving Artic a biiiiiiig tight hug and because she's just so grateful that she's got someone so kind, thoughtful, and genuine in her corner.

Avie cares for the periwinkles sooo gently. They end up in her kitchen windowsill planter so that she can see them every morning when she wakes up to make herself breakfast. They always seem to perk up and say good morning to her when she comes in with their fragrant, delicate smell! They thrive, of course, in Avie's windowsill, representing how her friendship with Artic is thriving and growing!

And Avie wants to return the favor. Thankfully, she's crafty! So she makes friendship bracelets (I'm picturing the threaded ones, something like this!) for them. Artic's has blue flowers and a purple chain, while Avie's is the inverse (loosely based on your banner image, ofc). Avie's all embarrassed to give Artic her bracelet bc she's worried that her bracelet making skills aren't all that good, and she babbles on about how the periwinkles were really sweet and she wanted to return the favor and she hopes it's not subpar- but I can see Artic being like "nono, this is good. Don't worry."

So yeah in conclusion Artic and Avie are the best friends ever <3

[pecadosarepiling]

How did Dani end up at the Lounge?

While yes her dear Seilos is also a patron there, he was not the one to introduce to the Zabrak beauty to the others.

@storm89 @pixiestookourstardust @eyecandyeoz @by-the-primes @gran-maul-seizure @stardustbee

No, this began when Danica in search of knowledge and with a clever knack of sneaking into places sat in on the lectures of one Professor Vorka’adan, to no surprise one of the only Chiss members of the faculty. A hue of blue that reminded her of ocean water and black hair with a distinct streak of gray. Danica always glanced towards him. A set of glasses always perched about his nose. He was handsome Dancia admitted to herself, then again she did have a penchant for eyeing Chiss.

His classes were small, however the lecture halls were more than abundant in their space, Danica took to hiding away in the back. Scribbling away notes. She listened with great interest to what the Chiss Professor had to share. Oh how envious she was of the enrolled students…

She was found out at the end of the second week.

“This is not one of the courses that could be audited, Miss.” it was another of the students who more or less sneered at the zabrak. “Professor, you have a unneeded guest.”

Danica glared at the student who walked past with a triumphant smile.

The Professor walked over as Danica stepped out, discovered she was. “Miss I fear we must ask you…”

He looked at her, he had met Irodians…but this young woman. Bright red and with even darker red markings upon her face. A arrangement horns underneath soft curls, he would claim it was more as if she had a ivory crown. She was lovely…

“I meant no harm.” She apologies in Chenuh. Her voice was like velvet. Smooth and alluring.

“You speak Chenuh!” His gaze softened. A beauty and versed in such a language?

She smiles gently, “ A friend taught me…I do apologize sir, I just wanted to hear more. I know it’s not allowed but i just wanted to know.” She showed him her notes. Beautiful written and with annotations and questions all arranged. Truly a scholar. He dare say she would make a great assistant and of course a note taker for the advanced courses.

He would not wish to deprive such a hungry mind but rules were rules.

“You could enroll the next semester.” He attempted. “It’s too late for you to enroll at this time.”

Her smile cast into a frown, “ I am not a student here.”

“That’s very unfortunate.”

Her frown lingered and she took the notebook, “ Thank you Professor, it was nice while it lasted.”

“Wait miss…”

She turned back from the doorway, eyes bright and hopeful, “ perhaps you can be the class note taker…enrollment would not be required.”

She smile at that, a little half smile that set the day right.

“Well then if it’s possible I should introduce myself, Miss Danica Oppress.”

——

The student who had so confidently discovered Danica was stunned to see the young woman seated in front. How?!

“Everyone, Miss Oppress will be our class notetaker, do not assume that means you are excused from taking notes yourselves. She is doing so in behalf of student accommodations, but should you have a question it is likely she has it written down. “

Danica shot the student a smirk before giving everyone else a sweet smile.

“Oh she’s a cute one.”

“Hello Miss Oppress…”

—-

“Two of your students already asked me out.” She told him as she turned in a copy of the notes. Impeccable work.

“My they work fast.”

“Poor things were so disappointed to learn I’m married.” She said nonchalantly turning to a new page for notes.

“You’re married.” He repeated, trying not to let disappointment cloud it.

“I can say I’m married…” she said with a sigh.

Troubles marriage? What could it be?

“Should you ever feel want to share I’m here to listen.”

—-

Their relationship was steady, a flourishing friendship that consisted of deep discussions Over the lecture material as well as a bottle of wine decanted so the two could vent.

Ka’adan had learned much about Danica and not much at all. The biggest being…she could say she was married but that was the extent.

A fool to leave her. That was what he gathered.

He gave a comforting chat and a shoulder for her to rest on.

—-

It was a vintage wine and enthralling discussion over the literature that lead to a less than planned moment of passion.

Neither resisted and before they could stop themselves their clothes were all about Ka’-Adans office. Danica moaned as she was bent over his desk.

The sound of the desk scrapping slightly against the floor was telling…

He was atop her. Kissing her shoulders and thrusting his hips.

Friends with benefits became the term they used.

—-

It was after this encounter that Ka’adan learned that Danica’s appetite for the flesh was very much in need.

Take notes. Review. A drink sometimes, having a good bout of sex and call it a afternoon….

It was a fine arrangement…

“Really why don’t you enroll?” He has wanted to ask as she seemed to have no qualms about faculty.

“Tuition…rent…” a shy look, “ I’m trying to get funds.” A blush. “The holonet is lucrative.”

It took him only a few moments to realize what she meant. He felt only slightly ashamed to look it up later. Truly lucrative…

“ I can help, a scholarship for someone like you would be helpful.”

She knew he meant her previous academics, the Star pupil, always rivaling that boy he hears so much about, Ava, she would say with such sorrow.

A first love?

She geared toward humor, “ Oh Ka’adan I don’t think giving professors good blowjobs would suffice for a academic scholarship.”

The Chiss blushes purple, “ Danica! You know very well I don’t mean that.”

She laughed, “I know I know.”

He sighed, “ I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

She smiles at him, thank you on her lips.

——

“Here..” a box is presented to her, it’s contents have her gasping. A beautiful blue Satin gown….

“You shouldn’t have!”

“If you wish you can wear it tonight. There’s a place I want to take you too.” Ka’adaan waits as she prepares. As he knew it she looked beautiful beyond compare.

“Ah black tie? Truly you are spoiling me tonight .”

—-

The Lounge was all it was referred to, with a non descript building entrance and a elevator to take you to the main lobby. Danica was in awe. As if walking past in time. The art deco of gold elements and fan designs on the walls.

Where was Ka’adan taking her?

“Welcome Vorka’adan, we have been expecting you. Is this your guest you’ve been mentioning?” The host asked.

Danica felt her jaw drop slightly, another chiss?

“Yes, Awen this is Miss Danica. I suspect the other guests are here?”

“Yes right this way.”

—

A set of ornate doors and Danica is transported far away into a lounge. Glamor and the grandeur of the decor had her taken back. It was also the guests that had her mesermized…the familiar red eyes glowing and shades of blue all about. They dined and chatted at luxurious booths. Delicate glasses set upon tables…

“Everyone here is chiss?!” She whispered.

“Well mostly…there’s some special guests that are regulars. Possibly if you like tonight maybe even you?”

She glanced everywhere. Thankful for the dark red of her skin. A blush was bubbling. So many handsome chiss…

“Come along, there’s some Id like for you to meet.”

—-

To say the meeting was a triumph was an understatement. Danica was dazzling the guests with her perfect use of Chenuh and challenging more than one chiss to a debate.

“Ka’adan, truly did not do you justice. We thought he made you up!”

“I must admit Miss Oppress you are truly a gem.”

Danica was giddy. Getting compliments and praise from the group of Chiss. It did not help that she also continued to have champagne. The delicate flute emptying once more and her flirting becoming more and more heavy.

Danica started innocently, and with more champagne her flirtations becoming more pronounced.

She could not help it…surrounded by so many. A hand on her knee, she moved up to her thigh. She pouted her lips to tempt a kiss and she giggled when one kissed her cheek.

“ Kaadan mentioned you needed some help? We may be able to help if you like Miss…”

Her buzzed brain realized what was being proposed….

“Only if you want and with only your full consent.”

Danica should feel some sort of guilt, something akin to regret…but no. Nothing of the sort occurred…

She counted. 1. 2. 3 and 4 counting Kaadan.

“I’ll record, if you wish.” Kaadan proposed.

Danica counted again. 1 . 2 .3

—-

Private rooms in the Lounge told Danica that this place was more than a dinner and bar and it’s patrons spared no expense….

—

She was kissed deeply as two others removed her clothes. She moaned as they touched her and explored her.

“You’ve brought us a goddess.”

Danica blushed, “ Well if that’s so, I should be worshipped like one.”

—-

One cock deep in her cunt. Another she sucked off. The third happily being handled.

Danica was thrilled. All her nerves aflame and the second of many orgasms starting to rise.

“Stars, how can one only have you once?”

Danica thrilled in that, and rolled her hips causing the chiss to groan. “ Ahh you minx.”

—-

She lost track on how many times she was passed around, she just happily accepted being filled with a cock throughout the night…

She awoke refreshed and on clean sheets. A tray of breakfast set on the bed and a vase of 3 red roses.

Kaadan arrived with a cup of coffee.

Danica couldn’t look him in the eye, “ I don’t know what came over me.”

“Desires of the flesh…”

She blushed harder, “ to such a extent.”

“Well Miss Danica, your desires are others…” he handed her data pad. Danicas eyes widened…so many credits…

Not enough for tuition but not a bad start, “your performance on the holonet, is indeed lucrative.”

Danica considered it, “ If I continue I could make tuition…and probably also if more I could ensure my expenses are taken care of…and books…even rent…”

She blushed and looked to Ka’adan, “ would it be alright if I could be your guest again?”

“My dear Danica, the Lounge already welcomes you as a honorary member…”

And so her time at the Lounge began…

[lovesick-rambles]

No One Messes with Mikey's Girl

commission for: @fleur-ships

summary: Michael is surprised at himself for agreeing to go on a double date with his girlfriend Fleur and their friends, Natalie and Trevor. The whole thing has left him feeling anxious.

word count: 2.3k

content warnings: blood mention, very mide sexual language

author's note: AHH thank you so much for commissioning me, Jules! I loved writing this so much! Thank you also for letting me insert myself and Trevor in it! It made me so happy! :)

banner credit: cafekitsune

Michael let out a long, heavy sigh, “Are you sure that this is a good idea?”

“For the tenth time, yes!” Fleur rolled her eyes, “Come on, we’ve been talking about this for like a week now. You’ve had time to prepare!”

“Yeah, and I’m still not.” His hands gripped the steering wheel, “Why am I so masochistic?”

“You are so dramatic! It’s not like I’m dragging you to go get a lobotomy!” She couldn’t help but laugh at his pitiful face, “It’s just a double date. A double date that you agreed to, might I add.”

“With a man who not-so-secretly wants me fucking dead!” Michael winced at the thought of his old friend publicly murdering him during this date.

“And my best friend!” Fleur chirped, ignoring the statement he just made.

“And your best friend.” He replied, “Whom I’m a little more fond of. Even if her taste is…questionable.”

She swatted his arm, “Hey! Be nice! You could say the same thing about me being with you.”

Michael scoffed, “Hey, at least I’ve never made chili out of human flesh.”

“Sure, but didn’t you fake your death?” Fleur questioned, smirking while she asked.

“Jesus, Fleur, that was fuckin’ years ago!” He groaned, “Man, I get that enough from Trevor so now I have to hear it from you, too?”

She sniggered and lovingly placed a hand on his thigh, “I’m just teasing, baby. You don’t need to be nervous. It’s just our friends, we’ll have fun! I promise.”

“If you say so.” The car slowly came to a halt as Michael parked it, “Let’s just pray that Trevor doesn’t gouge my eyes out with the goddamn spork.”

“He won’t!” Fleur stepped out of the car and gave him another smirk, “He’s much more likely to use the steak knife.”

“Gee, thanks. You know how to make a man feel better.” He glared at her and placed a hand on the small of her back. They entered the unfamiliar restaurant and walked up to the host stand, “Yeah, uh, reservation for De Santa?”

The hostess scanned the reservation list, quietly mouthing the names she read, “Yep! Here you are! We have two guests waiting for you, already.”

“Wonderful. Thanks.” Michael said dryly, giving Fleur a pained look. She hit his chest with the back of her hand and shushed him before following the hostess. He trailed behind slowly, contemplating if anyone would notice if he hightailed it to his car or not. But, he decided against it. Only because he didn’t want to leave Fleur here alone. He spotted their double date, Natalie and Trevor in the distance and felt his heart sink. He likes them, well, he liked Natalie, but he just felt nervous about the whole thing. He hasn’t been on a cutesy date like this since his teenage years, so it was a little odd to be here again as a 48 year old. Natalie saw them approach and her face lit up, waving at them. She hopped out of her seat to swallow Fleur in a hug, rocking the two of them back and forth.

“I’m so happy to see you!” Natalie laughed, a huge smile plastered on her face.

“Well, well, Mikey.” Trevor leaned his face against his hand and glared at Michael, “Awful nice of you to finally fuckin’ show up. You have a knack for bad timing.”

“Jesus, T. Seriously? I just got here.” Michael took a seat at the booth.

“It just ain’t nice to keep a lady waitin’.” He looked over to Natalie and gave her a smile.

“Oh, yeah? And what do you know about manners, Trevor?” He rolled his eyes, “Your idea of romance was stealing a man’s wife and hiding her away in your trailer.”

“Really? Fuckin’ bringing up a fling I had in front of my girl? That’s low, Mikey. But you’ve been lower. Six feet lower, actually.” Trevor sneered, his lip curling a little.

“Oh, shush you two!” Fleur scoffed, “You two are bickering like an old married couple! Let’s order some drinks and food and just have fun!”

“Yeah, I agree.” Natalie peered at Trevor from over her glasses, “Besides, you promised you’d be well behaved for once, T.”

Trevor sighed and looked back at Natalie, “You’re right, I did promise. I’ll be good, darlin’, I swear. Wanna take a bet to see if Mikey will behave, though?” He pointed at Michael and chuckled, “You’ll lose right away.”

“Oh, yeah, because I’m the one with behavioral issues.” Michael looked at Fleur, who was scowling at him, “I mean, uh, how have you two been?”

“Oh, you know. Keepin’ busy.” Natalie shrugged, “T.P.I is still going strong, my shop still pulls in dumb tourists, we’re living together, life is fine. Nothing too crazy. How about you guys?”

“Yeah, same here. This is actually the first time we’ve been able to go out in a while!” Fleur beamed, “Things get so boring at the Vanilla Unicorn sometimes. It’s always the same three creeps who want the same drinks asking for my number or one of the stripper’s.”

“I hear you. It’s been a while since we’ve gone out like this, too.” Natalie elbowed Trevor gently, “This fucker gets to have wild days whenever he wants. Guns, blood, glory, you have it. Me? I sit behind a counter waiting for someone to just pick a fucking towel already.”

“Jesus, don’t make me sound like an asshole!” Trevor laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“You don’t need Natalie to do that.” Michael muttered, earning another glare from Fleur.

“Wanna run that by me again, Mikey?” Trevor cocked an eyebrow at him, clearly getting agitated.

“Okay, let’s order something!” Natalie interrupted, waving her hands, “I’m fucking starving.”

“And I could use a drink.” Michael agreed.

“I think we all do.” Fleur awkwardly giggled, “So yes! Let’s get something!”

That seemed to ease the tension a little bit. They all relaxed a little and scanned the menus, each picking out something they wanted. Michael was stiff. He forgot what it was like to be on dates. Actual, cliche, romantic dates. He didn’t know what to do, completely forgetting how to act. He’d give Fleur a small smile every now and then before going back to taking a sip of his drink, but he felt that it wasn’t enough. Finally, he sighed and copied Trevor by draping his arm over her shoulders.

“Hey,” She said, locking her fingers with his, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” He shrugged, “Just a little stiff. This date stuff, it reminds me of being a kid, you know? I’m rusty. Out of practice.”

“Well, guess that means we should do this more often.” Fleur suggested, batting her eyelashes at him. 

He chuckled at her, his heart fluttering a little because of her, “I guess so. I have to admit, this isn’t half bad. I’m actually enjoying it a little, I think.”

“Aw, well, would ya look at that?” Trevor chimed in, “Michael admitted a feeling! We gotta alert the news!” He started clapping loudly, turning a few heads.

“On second thought, maybe I hate this.” He replied dryly, flipping Trevor off.

“No, no, don't say that!” Natalie jokingly pleaded, “Please, I’m having so much fun! We don’t get to see you often. He’s just a bastard.”

“Same here with this guy.” Fleur pointed at Michael, “This is fun! Sadly, I think our men have some allergy to fun and have to argue like school children.”

“Squabbling must be a side effect of this allergy.” Natalie joked, side eyeing Trevor. He laughed awkwardly, feeling a little sheepish. Michael also felt embarrassed and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. 

“You remember when we used to hang like this when we were younger, T?” Michael asked, moving on from what just happened. Trevor furrowed his eyebrows and nodded hesitantly. Michael snickered softly and continued, “Man, we used to drive the bartenders nuts. We would drink them out of house and home or until they’d force us out.”

Trevor shook his head, a grin slowly spreading across his face, “They fuckin’ hated us. Every goddamn bar in town shuddered at the names ‘Michael Townley’ and ‘Trevor Philips’. Good times.”

“Yeah, good times.” Michael trailed off, thinking for a bit, “Hey, why don’t we do that anymore?”

Trevor shrugged, “I dunno. Guess we both never think of it.”

“Well, maybe we should.” He suggested, “Uh, you know, do more of these double dates the girls like so much. But also maybe just us, like old times.”

Trevor looked at Michael, confused at first but he quickly became pleased, “I’d like that.”

Fleur and Natalie exchanged a look of relief. As funny as their bickering was sometimes, it got tiring. It was nice to have them get along like actual friends for a change. They were happy that the mood had shifted to something happier for the four of them. Natalie held up her drink and initiated a cheers that they all took part in. Things were looking up. 

In the middle of their meal, a strange man suddenly appeared and leaned against the table near Fleur, “Well, it isn’t often you find a pretty girl here in Plastic City, let alone two. Come here often?” Both women cringed at the cliche and stared at the stranger uncomfortably. He leaned in closer to Fleur, making intense eye contact, “Say, what’s your name? Let’s get to know each other.”

Michael was frozen, his eyes not moving from this guy. Trevor noticed his posture and cleared his throat, “Can’t you see she ain’t interested? She’s already got a man. Beat it if you like them teeth of yours.”

The man tore his gaze away from Fleur for the first time and locked eyes with Michael, “This guy? He looks a little jaded for someone like you. Come on, don’t you want someone with a little bit of action?”

“Oh, I’ll show you action!” Michael reached across the table and grabbed the man’s collar, practically crawling over Fleur to get out of the booth. He dragged the man out by his collar, not even caring about all the looks he was getting. 

“Michael?” Fleur called out, but it was no use. He was out of ear shot and even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t stop for anybody. All Michael cared about was showing this punk a lesson.

“This is the Michael I remember!” Trevor cackled, getting out of his seat. He quickly turned to Natalie and grabbed her shoulders, planting a kiss on her forehead, “Sit pretty for me, yeah? It’ll only be a second. M, wait up!” With that, he cracked his knuckles loudly and followed Michael out, the sound of his steel toed boots getting quieter with each step. Fleur and Natalie looked at each other, not exactly knowing how to react. A few moments passed before they both silently got up and followed the men out, not having to search too hard since the three of them were in the middle of the parking lot. Trevor had his arms hooked under the stranger’s armpits, securing him in place. Michael alternated between punching his face and torso. It wasn’t a pretty sight. In fact, it was attracting some attention. But, Natalie and Fleur were only focused on what was unfolding in front of them. The guy who was flirting with Fleur was unrecognizable at this point, his nose bleeding profusely and his eye was squinting because it was bruised. Michael wasn’t focused on anything else besides pummeling this guy into a bloody pulp and Trevor had this crazed, cat-like look as he helped keep their victim in place. 

“How about this for a little bit of action, huh?” Michael sneered, curling his fist, “How’s this action feel, huh buddy?” His fist made direct contact with the guy’s stomach, making him cry out in pain. Michael continued taunting him, saying how someone with that small of a dick could never get a girl like Fleur, how he has more man in his pinky toe than he has in his whole body, how no one smart enough knows not to mess with Mikey’s girl, and so on. 

Trevor had a huge, toothy grin plastered on his face and he showed it to Natalie, “Didn’t I tell ya to wait, sugar?”

Natalie winced at the violence, “Well, who refuses to have a show with dinner?”

“Good point!” He yelled before turning back to encouraging Michael and insulting the man nestled tightly in his arms.

Fleur’s eyes never left Michael. It all happened so fast. Sure, seeing this guy be turned into minced meat before her wasn’t a pretty sight, but her chest swelled with how quickly he wanted to defend her. Frankly, she found it very attractive. 

“Okay, boys.” Natalie said hesitantly, “I think you made your point clear. The poor fucker ain’t getting any bloodier. The police were also called so uh, T? Wanna grab dessert?”

“Oh, fuck yeah!” Trevor pushed the man down, getting one kick in before returning to Natalie, “Let’s do this double date night thing again soon!”

“I agree!” Michael panted, wiping his bloodied knuckles on his jacket, “Fleur, baby, we should make plans with these two again very, very soon.”

Fleur chuckled and wrapped an arm around his waist, “Did you enjoy it that much?”

“Fuck yeah I did!” He smiled and kissed her on the cheek. The couples said goodbye to each other quickly before Natalie and Trevor sped off in his truck, hearing police sirens in the distance.

“Thank you, baby.” She looked at him, lovestruck, “Thank you for taking care of that creep.”

“Anytime, hon.” He replied, opening the car door for her, “I love you. No one messes with my girl. No one.”