#ooh second set of pictures of me!

[anarcho-masochist]

There should be an aesthetic around medical needle tracks and bruising from getting blood drawn, honestly. I've gotten my blood taken so many times during this hospital stay (which is a good thing—they're actually doing tests). Also, I'm finally free of my IV!

[sun-snatcher]

♧ ⎯ THE DEVIL YOU KNOW

summ.  Something is wrong with Gambit. Deadpool & Wolverine are attacked— but they aren’t the target.  pairing.  Void!Gambit x f!Anomaly!reader , (established in #WELUCKYFEW) w.count.  3.6k a/n.  Kickstarting a potential storyline?! I’m gonna be so honest I don’t know either but. Maybe not. C’est la vie. Warnings for canon-violence & gore!

CURRENTLY, IN DOWNTOWN NEW YORK:

WADE HAS A BLADE EMBEDDED through his throat. 

He hadn’t expected his Friday night to go like this.

This, by way of meaning: getting glass shards straight to the eyes after some asshole decided not to use the front door, and proceeding to wreak absolute havoc throughout the entirety of Wade’s apartment in an attempt to kill him. 

Which brings us to now.

“Can we— eurgh— please ta— ack—!” Wade retches, gargling in his own blood as he slowly unsheathes the sword out his neck. 

He spits the metal-tang-curdle of saliva to the floor with a hiss. His teeth and the house carpet stains an ugly vermillion. Somewhere amidst the long fight, Dogpool has scampered for cover with the roomba.

“Canwepleasetakeatimeout?!” 

A picture frame shatters above him in reply. Wade dives to the living room, booting the coffeetable onto its side for cover. “Fuck me, this’ll all be a pain in the ass to clean up once we’re done h— ooh, what’s this?”

The tipped over IKEA table Blind Al set up two days ago reveals, stunningly: a concealed Glock 47. And knowing the old lady, these— alongside every weapon she’s likely squirrel-stashed around this house— is probably loaded.

(It’s by no means a gold-plated Desert Eagle from Nicepool— God rest his soul— but Wade makes a mental note to kiss Al on the mouth once she’s back from the laundromat.)

He unholsters the pistol; unclips the magazine; gauges— only 5 bullets. (…Does she kill people in her spare time? He’ll have to ask.) “You couldn’t’ve attacked me in my superhero suit? Would be so much more visually appealing for the audience, y’know.”

The assailant lets out an accented snarl beneath the dark of her hood. “D’ya ever shut th’ fuck up?”

“Uh, no? Wow, it’s like you don’t even know who you’re trying to kill here—” 

Wade slides across the floor and fires. With a sharp dodge, the first bullet narrowly misses, bursting brick and drywall instead; The second clips the assassin’s shoulder as she curses.

“You sure you’re not supposed to be after Elektra instead? I mean, the whole hooded ninja-assassin-lady fit is kinda giving edgy early-2000’s era.”

A scowl. Ninja-lady hurtles a dagger just as he stands, slicing a whistle into the air. Wade only just deflects it with a timed swing from the same sword he’d yanked out his neck. 

“Aw, all out of steel? This is why you shouldn’t bring a gun to a knifefight, beautiful.” He narrows his eyes. “Hold on I said that wr—”

“All this fuckin’ chatter!” she groans, brandishing another sword. Dusklight scatters through the drizzling rain and the window curtains, glimmering against her blade— and for a moment Wade catches it reflecting in her eyes: crescent-like; amused. 

She’s smiling. Purposefully. 

“Where did you even—? Did you pull that out your prison-wallet?”  

“We been fightin’ a while now, Wilson,” the assassin ignores, looming like a living shadow in the dim of the kitchen. There’s blood splattered against her plain mask and the edges of her cowl. Most of it belongs to him. “Y’know y’self that this shoulda ended, say, ten minutes ago, now?”

“Well, that’s why I politely asked for a time-out, genius.”

“Makes y’wonder if this whole fight’s really ‘bout you, non?”

Wade stutter-steps.

His gut twists. 

Logan, he thinks, instinctively. Then: Vanessa, Blind Al, Laura, Gambit, and you— Stray.

This has been… a stall. A fucking distraction.

“Hah! See, now you’ve just pissed me off,” the merc sing-songs, tone falling flat. It’s one thing to come after him; another to come after his family. 

He tamps down the worry, rolls his shoulders. “Right, well.”

Deadpool recalls his rounds. 

Three remain; one already chambered. More than enough. 

“Let’s fucking dance, shall we?”

…ALSO CURRENTLY, SOMEWHERE IN NEW YORK:

“WHO—” 

Stab. 

“THE FUCK.” 

Stab. 

“SENT—” 

Stab. 

“YOU?”

The mountain of a man— if Logan can even call him that anymore after the absolute carnage he’d dealt to him in this seedy back alleyway— cries out a desperate ‘Wait, wait, wait!’ just as he rears back for another strike.

“God, wish they never assigned me to the fuckin’ Wolverine. Goddamn suicide mission,” he coughs out. His curly beard looks near black from the fountain of blood dribbling out his lips, and pooling down his neck where it stains his torn hood with gore.

Thunder rolls in the distance. The flash in the nightsky swaths Logan into cutting edges; paints him menacingly in every sharp crease and divot of his features. Rainwater mix with the streaks of red on his arms, dripping down, down, down to the blade-edge of his claws.

“Tell me what I wanna know and I might just let your sorry ass live.”

“I wasn’t told who sent us, okay—?” The answer has Logan snarling. “—Dude, I said wait, I said wait! You pointy prick— Jesus. None of this is personal, okay?”

A grunt. It’s nigh animalistic in sound. “Holding a gun to my head when I was mindin’ my own business is pretty fuckin’ personal to me.”

And they were Adamantium bullets too. He’d come prepared.

“Chill,” he laughs. “We’re not here for you. Or Wade Wilson, for that matter.”

Logan’s hairs stand on end. “What the fuck did y’just say, bub?”

“I said,” the man heaves, head lolling under its own weight and eyes heavy from the bloodloss. “This ain’t about you, or your cancer-fucked boyfriend.”

The crunch that resounds from between his jaw and Logan’s fist is monstrous. He’s half-sure he may have unhinged something, or dislodged a row of teeth. 

He snatches the assassin by the collar and slams him against a dumpster, hard enough to leave a dent. “How many else of you are there? Who the fuck are you after?”

“Not enough to be honest,” comes his wheezing answer. It’s a laughter churned in derision and obvious resignation. He knows he won’t survive this. The corners of his vision have already begun to vignette.

“Do you really want to measure your pride against my fucking mercy, bub?”

A huff, akin to the flap of a white flag. The behemoth relents. “Four… of us. Too many… and we’d cause an incursion.”

There’s no time to question what the hell that meant. He’s slipping.

“You didn’t come here to kill me,” Logan repeats, grip loosening. “So why’d you bother trying?”

The assassin grins, teeth shining crimson with fresh blood. 

“To buy ‘im time.”

5-ISH MINUTES AGO:

If war had taught you one thing, it’d be that instinct will save your life.

And something is definitely wrong. 

It needles over your skin and nape, makes your insides pace like a caged animal— you feel it whenever you turn the cornerstone down 5th Avenue, when you pass the pour of newsstands at the end of the street; feel it at the cafe just opposite the X-Men’s Academy grounds where you go to mark papers. 

You tell yourself to shake it off. That it’s just you settling into a new Universe, but—

“Rain caught you?” you ask, between the vinyl-croon in your shared downtown apartment, “Dinner’s ready soon. Allons manger.”  *

“Ooh! Smellin’ mighty fine up in here.” The front door is closed shut. Remy slides his coat off and tosses it lazily to the sofa armrest. Your eyebrows shoot up, but you don’t comment. “And oui. Rain caught me out a bit.”

“Them brigands give y’any trouble?” he asks, taking the plates from your hand to set once he’d come up to the kitchen island.  *

You make a noise as you shut the fridge door and turn with two beers in hand. Remy laughs. “Mais, y’been dealt a bad hand today, chèr?”

“How could you tell?” you feign a gasp, sliding a bottle his way and leaning back the counter as you sigh. “Students were restless today. And, my phone’s dead too. Drenched in the rain the second I stepped out the school. Stuffed it in rice and praying it’ll live.”

Then, suddenly— your nose wrinkles. You turn sharply towards the stove to check if anything’s burning. “Smell’s like smoke.”

A pop of his beercap. It clatters as he makes a hum of assent. “Probably me. M’sorry, chèr, I’ll change—”

“You smoke—?” 

Remy colours a little. 

“—Since when?”

There’s blatant surprise in your eyes more than there is confusion. Your gaze flickers to his hand. He has a deck in his palm; Charlier cut. One-handed shuffle. 

Anxious tic. You haven’t seen him do it in a while.

“Mais…” 

Needles, you’re reminded. That reflexive needling at the back of your mind is creeping at the margins again. 

“I, I’m not stopping you,” comes your quick answer. Your hands are raised in surrender; you aren’t here to interrogate or stop him from his will. “Just— I didn’t expect it. Is, Is everything okay?”

“Mais oui,” he nods, trying to reassure you. “S’not often. S’just t’help me blow off some steam. Ain’t gotta worry that pretty lil’ head a’ yours, chèr, I promise.”

Your Remy had been a smoker. You’ve told him this before. Perhaps it’s a Multiversal thing, too. “No smoking indoors, though, deal?”

He purses his lips, looking sheepish. “Deal.”

The topic is dropped; A bated silence falls as he watches you dish dinner for the both of you. His intuition has always been precise, however, and it’d only been a matter of time before he spoke up again after he watched you sidle into your high-chair opposite his and push your food around.

“And you?” he presses, carefully, “Can hear the gears in y’head turnin’ from here, chèr. Talk t’me. Quoi ça dit?”  *

It’d be pointless to lie. You glance at the rain pelting like hellfire at the window, then back at him, shaking your head as if in dismissal. “Nothing. I just feel like there’s someone out there, lately. Like we’re being… I don’t know.”

“Watched?” he offers, gauging your reaction.

Yes, you think to say, but you didn’t want to appear paranoid. You’ve had this conversation with Logan before; the thrown looks over your shoulders, the twitchiness, the habit of sitting with your back against the wall; Unending disquiet that simmers to a slow boil in your marrows. 

(The war in your Universe may not have killed you, but it’d broken you beyond repair.)

“...I feel like something bad’s coming. Like someone’s gonna break through the window or—” You shut your mouth with a click before that thought goes off on a nervous tangent. “My, my body keeps preparing for a fight. Like there’s something out to get me all the time.”

Remy’s eyes are curious. Observing. He’s stopped fidgeting as he listens, deck resting in ready position. 

“Chèr,” he begins, gently taking your hand from across the table and—

You almost yelp.

His touch is cold.

(Needle-like.)

You very nearly pull away.

(Instinct.)

Dread crows like a song; a banshee’s cry in your mind’s eye.

“Easy, hey,” he frowns, worry painting across his face when you slide your hand from his. “Chèr.”

“I—” Panic roars in your chest. Your lungs expand. It’s the beer bottle, you reason, that’s why his touch is cold. Maybe even the rain. Hell, this could just be an anxiety attack.  

“I’m fine. I’m fine, sorry, I’m just— tired. Yeah.”

His gaze softens.

“Hey. Look at me, chèr. Y’home. Y’safe. Y’know that.” 

You nod. Press your eyes shut. Take a gulp of beer, focus on the burn; on the distant New Orleanian croons of the record player just under the window. 

“Gambit ain’t gon’ let anythin’ happen t’you, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree, smiling tightly. It doesn’t reach your eyes; does little to dispel your razor-edged wariness. 

He notices. He always does.

“How ‘bout a game t’clear y’mind, chèr?” he offers, nudging his plate an inch to make way for his deck of cards. “Go fish?”

You laugh. It’s fragile. “You’re gonna let me win, anyway.”

“There’s that smile,” Remy hums under his breath, just enough that you can catch it. “—An’ no, chèr. Cross my heart, Gambit ain’t gon’ let y’win. Mais, y’know how I get wit’ games.”

He does cross his heart, playful, then shuffles his cards. You try to let yourself sink back into familiarity in his flourishes and its sounds; watch his hands work deft to chase away the anxiety still clawing under your skin. 

He deals.

You adjust your cards. 

…ven of Diamonds, Queen of Hearts, Nine—

Your blood runs cold.

“Is…” 

You try to swallow back the horror as you look at the neat fan in your hand. “…Is this a new deck, Remy?”

The next bit of what he says sounded off to your ears; a record scratch, a jerk of a needle. 

“Mais non, this the same deck Gambit been usin’ since the start.” He shoots you a confused look.

(It’s like a muslin-thin veil has been lifted: 

The nerves and paralysing paranoia, his precious brown leather coat thrown carelessly over the couch instead of being hung reverently on the rack, the grotty scent of cigarette smoke beneath the rain, the anxious shuffling of his cards at the table, the uncanny observation and scrutinising— and perhaps, what should’ve been the most damning of all— his ice-cold touch. 

No warmth. To the touch. In his gaze. In his smile. In energy.)

“Chèr? Y’alright?”

No. No, you’re not fucking alright.

Because this deck has a Nine of Hearts. That card has been with you, since the Void; since the start.

This…

This man is not Remy.

“Yes,” you say, and you internally scream at your reply— too quick. Too quick to hide the obvious lie. “Sorry, I just gotta— I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“Chèr—?” he frowns, chair scraping as he stands to try reaching out and steadying you.

Your heartbeat skyrockets. Instinct howls inside you. Everything has been recontextualised, and suddenly every difference about him jumps out: the rough edges, the muss of how his hair falls, the cut at the tip of his ear you never noticed.

“No, stay. Stay, I’m fine—” You teeter your way off the stool. It’s not entirely a lie that you felt like throwing up, but the omission is: there’s a gun you keep under your pillow, and another under the bathroom sink.

Your phone is dead. This will have to be a fight. 

And against a mutant? You have nothing but a slim chance.

“Stray,” he calls. His voice would be soft to anyone else's ears, but you hear it now— the difference, the rasp, the hardness as his heavy footfalls draw close behind you in the hall. Frustration. Not concern. “Talk to me, chèr.”

You slam the bathroom door shut with a resounding click of the lock. You let the sink run and drown out the noise of your hands fumbling underneath the sink, and once the weight of the 9mm pistol is in your palm, there’s faint comfort. 

The rest is muscle memory: confirming a round in the chamber, unclipping to check the remaining 15 in the magazine; recalling the distance to the front door and whether you can even get through this whole thing without firing a single bullet, much less alive.

Remy— or, no, fake Remy? Fake Gambit? —is knocking at the door. His words are muffled. You barely pay attention as you place your pistol by the faucet, and dip your head down to splash water to your face and ready yourself for a scuffle.

“Stray.”

Your head shoots up. 

The door’s unlocked and wide open. Gambit’s loom behind you through the reflection of the mirror is harrowing.

You barely have time to scream.

His hand snarls through your hair— then, like a loaded spring, Remy rams your head against the mirror.

You cry out. Glass shatters in a spray.

“Tell me.” A gruff chirp, right by your ear. “What gave me away, eh? 

“Fuck… you,” you choke out, cringing when a shard cuts into your cheek.

“Baw, why ‘de bobin, Stray?” His accent is heavier now that the guise has been dropped. “Y’know, I ain’t never understood ‘dat nickname. Where’d’ya come from, eh? Y’aint from ‘round here?”  *

“C’mon, Raven,” you rasp, head reeling as red gushes down your face. “Enough games. Drop the skin.”

He laughs. It sounds painfully like the Remy you know. “Mais la, how disappointin’. D’ya really think I’m Mystique? ‘Dat couyon bleue could never nail ‘de Cajun accent even if she trained for it.”  *

You don’t care which Remy this is. The distraction buys enough time. Your hands scramble at the faucet; grasping for your pistol until—

“S’Gambit in ‘de flesh, chèr bébé, jus’ ain’t ‘de one y’used t’cuddlin’ with at ni—”

You fire blindly. A tile bursts. The gunshot booms like a church bell. 

Gambit recoils with a sharp yell, vision searing white from the piercing ring in his ears. You take the chance to book it past him with a gasp, nearly slipping on the floor as he barely misses snagging the hem of your shirt. 

“Son of a bitch,” he grinds out, shaking his head. He springs his collapsible staff, props himself to his feet. “Gotta give it t’you, chèr, y’got bite. Shame ‘de night had t’end ‘dis way. Was hopin’ we coulda’ got on by peacefully.”

Gambit descends like a reaper down the hall. His hand draws a card and you hear the cutting whistle of it in the air.

It’s too quick for you to react. The Ace explodes, and the blast has you rocketing to the floorboards by the record player. The tracks skip from the harsh impact:

 “-- ZZzrt -- I been in the right place! But it must have been the wrong time!” 

Comically perfect. Life sure likes making a joke out of your situations, huh?

You fire two pointed shots as you turn onto your back. One hits the cornice and the other is a near-miss, dodged by Gambit ducking into your room doorway with a curse. It throws him off his rhythm. His growl turns into a sour grimace instead. “Goddammit, woman.” (You’re a sharp shooter, Gambit admits. He had felt the wind on that one.)

Dr. John still croons his ‘70’s Cajun funk in your ransacked home. “---I been in the right world! But it seems like wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong!---”

Pain lances up your leg as you stagger to your feet. You can’t pinpoint where, but nothing feels broken; a small mercy.

You make a break to the front door as you continue firing to keep him back. You’re not out of the woods yet. If you can just get out, dart for the stairs, you’d atleast get a better shot at surviving this insane manhunt—

The front door handle is busted. 

Busted, in which: Gambit must’ve charged the handle and melted the lock into nothing from the inside out when he first arrived. Sly bastard.

“---Refried confusion is making itself clear! Wonder which way do I go to get on out of here?---”

Thinking clearly is out of the question, so you think rapidly instead. Fire escape. Right outside your bedroom window. 

It’s too late, though. Gambit deals another card the moment you swivel on your feet— and the charge detonates just as you raise your gun.

The flash of purple is lightning hot against your fingers. The force sends you careening to the door and sliding down with a strangled hiss. 

Your pistol clatters. You scramble for it—

An aside on all the Gambit’s you have had the (un)fortunate opportunity to come across: all versions of him across the Multiverse are surely relentless. Be it in competition, or charm, or, in this case, pure fucking bloodlust amid combat. 

Some of his feats are impressively frightening.

Like charging his staff— and then spearing it straight from across the room and right between your pistol’s trigger guard.

Disarmed in an instant.

Deadly accuracy.

“---I took a right move! But I made it at the wrong time!---”

You really wanted to break that damn player.

“Nice try, chèr,” Gambit says, voice dark as he saunters over to you. The smile that spread across his face is like blood emerging from a quick, precise slit. (In another time, you might’ve considered it attractive.) “But Remy oughta teach you a t’ing or two ‘bout knowin’ when t’fold y’cards.”

That crisp accent of his almost makes the threat sing out sweet. He picks his coat up along the way and shrugs it back on.

“Yeah, well. Not your call,” you snap, scooting to your back with a visceral glare. “What the hell do you want?”

Another aside of Gambit: Like water in a river, Remy LeBeau always takes the path of least resistance. And yet he hadn’t killed you when he had multiple opportunities to do so, and every card he’d dealt throughout the fight was meticulously controlled, just enough to not do any real damage. 

The signs are clear— he needs you alive.

“Wanna put a damn gris-gris on you for ‘dis, first of all.” He gestures to his bleeding temple with a wince. Your first shot must have burst his right eardrum. “Mais la, I need me a cigarette.” *

A deep sigh. He fishes an odd gadget out his pocket, and you narrow your eyes. It looks familiar. 

“Listen, chèr.” Gambit rips his bō staff off with a grunt, wood splintering out the boards from the force. He lazily kicks the gun away, looming over you with a resigned look on his face. “I ain’t here to kill you, alright? ‘Dat’d make ‘dis a hit, and ‘dat ain’t in the nature of what Remy do.”

“---Head is in a good place, and I wonder what it's bad for!---”

You let out a defeated snort. “So? Is that supposed to make me feel any better?”

“So.” He exhales, triggers his device with a button. 

A TVA Time-door warbles open. 

…What the fuck?

“Don’t be harborin’ any bad feelin’s on me for what I’m gon’ do next.”

Remy re-grips his staff. You pale.

“Ah, shit.”

You’re out like a light before you register the blow.

No one’s home by the time Wade and Logan barge in, late by a matter of seconds.

*Cajun Footnotes

Allons manger — Let’s eat Brigands — Troublemakers Quoi ça dit? — What’s up? (Literally: “What that says.”) Bobin — Frown Couyon bleue — Blue fool Gris-Gris — a curse/bad luck

[bisexualiteaa]

Them catching you listening to dirty songs 👀

Feat. John "soap" MacTavish, König, Simon "Ghost" Riley

Smutty suggestive themes 18+

John "Soap" MacTavish

Song: Dick by StarBoi3 feat. Doja cat

- You were both on your way to the gym for a good work out, (gym couple goals) when you'd noticed that one of your wireless earbuds had gone missing, but didn't really think anything of it, thinking you must have dropped one on the way out or accidentally left it at home.

- little did you know, Johnny nabbed it when you weren't looking, ever so curious of what you listened to when you were doing your sets and what music motivated you through your workouts.

- he found it rather normal at first, your usual selection of music playing for a bit, so when it played, he was as caught off guard as a deer in headlights. He was weight lifting when he heard the song play, and damn near dropped the weights when he heard it.

- he looked over at you, watching as you worked out your core and legs, mouthing the words as the main chorus hit, hitting your squats to the beat.

"She made some plans on my dick tonight"

"She not with him tonight, she not with Jim tonight"

"She in the gym tonight"

"Workout in that pussy (Ayy)"

"I'm gettin' ripped tonight"

"R.I.P that pussy (Ayy)"

"I'm goin' in tonight"

- his jaw was slack, watching you mouth the words to such a flithy song with a grin on your face, while at the gym of all places, but you were in your own little world.

- when your eyes met his gaze, you were none the wiser, giggling and waving at him happily as he watched you, thinking he was just checking you out or making sure no one was going to try and play moves on you. How could you be so cute and innocent but such a little demon too?

- he definitely needed to steal your earbuds more often, because afterwards, he made sure you made some plans with his dick that night.

König

Song: 34 + 35 by Ariana Grande

- you were all out at the bar drinking together after a rather rough week when the song came on.

- to start, he knew you could sing, you'd been together since before he joined Task Force 141, what he wasn't expecting was you to sing along to a song like this out in public

"Yeah, we started at midnight, go 'til the sunrise"

"Done at the same time"

"But who's counting the time when we got it for life?"

"I know all your favorite spots"

"We can take it from the top"

"You such a dream come true, true"

"Make a bitch wanna hit snooze, ooh"

"Can you stay up all night?"

"Fuck me 'til the daylight"

"34, 35"

"Can you stay up all night?"

"Fuck me 'til the daylight"

"34, 35"

- you sang the whole thing, making the rest of the guys at the table laugh and cheer you on as you sang, seeing as they'd never heard you sing before, let alone a song like this.

- König however? The second he actually added 34 and 35 together in his head, his face burned red, but the fact that you were singing it? Made it so much hotter, and harder to think with the pictures of you doing those things running rampant through his mind.

- "I think that's your que to take her home" Gaz spoke up with a knowing grin, making you chuckle as you watched König sit frozen and looking at you in disbelief.

- you and your comrades took far too much delight in his shy reaction, but when you two made it back home? You both Subtracted the clothes, he divided your legs and helped you add 34+35.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Song: The Summoning by Sleep Token

- you were cooking breakfast when the song came on, usually liking to sing and dance to your music as you cooked.

- Simon was just waking up when he smelled what you were making, and he made it half way down the stairs when your music and the sight of you greeted him.

"Oh, and my love"

"Did I mistake you for a sign from God?"

"Or are you really here to cut me off?"

"Or maybe just to turn me on"

"'Cause these days"

"I would be lying if I told you that"

"I didn't wish that I could be your man"

"Or maybe make a good girl bad"

"I've got a river running right into you"

"I've got a blood trail, red in the blue"

"Something you say or something you do"

"The taste of the divine"

- he recognized it instantly from one of your nights of shared carnal passion, remembering how you melted at the way he moved his hips in time to the beat.

- he quietly treaded the rest of the way downstairs, his one hand wrapping around your throat as the other sat at your hip as he came up to you from behind, taking you off guard. But in the best possible way of course.

- "playing your favorite song, I see?" He asked, making you chuckle as he turned you around and kissed you.

- it wasn't long until breakfast was long forgotten, left to get cold as he bent you over the counter after replaying the song, pistoning his hips into you to the beat.

- and while breakfast may have grown cold, you certainly couldn't have been more of the opposite.

[fanficgirlysmhh]

Insta jealousy

Summary; When a flirty influencer's obsession with Kylian Mbappe gets out of hand, his girlfriend (y/n) uses a viral Instagram reel to teach him a lesson

Pairing; Kylian Mbappe x reader

Word count; 1281

Warnings: fluff, jealousy, relationship

The tension had been building for weeks. Every day seemed to bring another post or interview from Brenda, the influencer who couldn’t stop talking about how much she adored Kylian Mbappe. Yesterday, she’d taken it a step further, openly declaring in an interview that she loved Mbappe and wanted him to follow her on Instagram. To your dismay, Kylian had obliged. Now, they followed each other, and Brenda liked and commented cheekily on every one of his photos, completely ignoring the pictures of you two together.

You were trying to stay calm, but it was getting harder every day. Fans were tagging you in Brenda’s videos, filling Kylian’s Instagram with questions about your relationship status. You knew you needed to do something before you exploded.

One evening, as Kylian scrolled through his phone, chuckling at something Brenda had posted, you decided you couldn’t take it anymore. "Really, Kylian? You think this is funny?"

He looked up, surprised. "What are you talking about, y/n?"

You crossed your arms, the frustration bubbling up. "Brenda. She’s everywhere, always talking about you, and now you're encouraging her by liking and commenting on her posts."

Kylian sighed, putting his phone down. "It's just harmless fun. She’s just a fan."

"A fan who wants more than just an autograph," you shot back. "And it’s not just her. Her followers, your followers, they all keep tagging me, asking if we’ve broken up. It’s humiliating."

He frowned, the humor fading from his eyes. "I didn’t realize it was bothering you that much."

"Well, it is," you said, the tears of frustration welling up. "I feel like I'm competing for your attention."

Kylian stood, walking over to you. "You don’t have to compete for anything. You're the one I love."

"Then show it," you whispered, the fight draining out of you. "Because right now, it doesn’t feel that way."

Kylian pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "I’m sorry, y/n. I’ll fix this. I didn’t mean to make you feel like this."

You nodded against his chest, but the seed of an idea had already taken root. You would make him see what it felt like. The next day, you called your friends and set your plan in motion.

That afternoon, you and your friends gathered in your living room, ready to film the Instagram reel. You’d found a filter that showed pictures of footballers, allowing you to rate their hotness on a scale of 1-10.

"Alright, ladies," you said, starting the recording. "Let’s rank the hottest footballers."

The first picture that popped up was Jude Bellingham. "Ooh, Jude is definitely a 9," one of your friends said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Those eyes are killer," another friend agreed, giving Jude a high score.

Next up was Erling Haaland. "Haaland’s got that Viking look. Solid 8," you said, laughing as your friends nodded in agreement.

When a picture of Hugo Lloris appeared, your friends went wild. "a total 10!" one of them shouted.

You smiled, ready for the next photo. "And in second place," you said, glancing at the camera with a smirk as a picture of Marcus Rashford appeared, “is someone I’ve had the biggest crush on forever. He’s just... perfect. Definite 9.5.”

Your friends gasped and giggled. "Ooh, tell us more!" one of them teased.

"Maybe later," you said, winking at the camera.

That evening, Kylian came home, his face a mix of confusion and irritation. He held up his phone, the reel paused on the screen. "Y/n, what is this?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, though your heart was racing. "Just a fun reel with my friends. Why? Did it bother you?"

Kylian narrowed his eyes, a hint of jealousy flickering in them. "You didn’t even put me on the list, and you ranked guys who look like me. And what's this about a long-standing crush on Rashford?"

You crossed your arms, trying to maintain your cool. "Why does it bother you? You find it cute when Brenda fawns over you in every interview, and you even follow her back and like her pictures.“

Before Kylian could respond, his phone buzzed again. He glanced at it, his eyes widening slightly. "Rashford... he commented on your reel."

Your heart skipped a beat. "What did he say?"

Kylian read aloud, "‘Always knew I had a secret admirer! Thanks for the love, y/n.’” He looked up, his jealousy now unmistakable. “And he put a winking emoji.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Well, can you blame him?”

Kylian didn’t seem amused. Instead, he quickly typed a reply, "‘Back off, mate. She's taken.’”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by his protectiveness. "Feeling a bit jealous, are we?"

Kylian sighed, pulling you into a hug. "I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I thought it was just harmless fun. But seeing you talk about other guys... yeah, it made me jealous."

You looked up at him, your resolve wavering. "I just wanted you to see how it feels."

He sighed, pulling you closer. "I’m sorry. I didn't think about how it would affect you. You know you're the only one I care about, right?"

You melted into his embrace, feeling the tension ease away. "I know. I guess I just needed a little reminder."

Kylian kissed the top of your head, holding you tight. "I promise, I'll be more mindful. And for the record, you’re way hotter than any influencer out there."

You laughed, feeling the last of your jealousy slip away. "And you’re way hotter than Haaland."

Kylian chuckled, lifting your chin to look into your eyes. "Good to know. Now, how about we take a break from social media and spend some quality time together?"

You nodded, smiling up at him. "Sounds perfect."

As the evening wore on, you and Kylian put the drama behind you

---

The next morning, as you cuddled with Kylian on the couch, you had an idea. Grabbing your phone, you set it up to record another reel. Kylian watched curiously as you began.

"Hey everyone," you said with a grin. "After yesterday's fun, I realized I missed someone very important. So today, I'm going to rank the hottest footballer, and honestly, there's no competition. The number one spot goes to..."

You turned the camera to Kylian, who smiled sheepishly. "Kylian Mbappe," you said proudly. "No one even comes close."

Kylian laughed, pulling you into his lap. "You're just saying that because you have to."

You shook your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "No, I'm saying it because it's true."

As you posted the reel, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Within minutes, comments started pouring in, and fans were tagging Brenda, mocking her obsession and praising your sweet relationship.

Kylian glanced at the screen and then back at you, his expression softening. "Thank you," he said quietly.

You smiled, leaning your head against his. "Always, Kylian. You're the only one for me."

[yeeterthek33per]

Mic'd Up (Photo Day Edition) (Auswnt x Reader)

A/n requoosted

*The camera pans to you jogging around the producers, testing out the compact harness they had under your training jersey.

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

"Aw man, do I have to wear this? Do the others know? Oh, they don't. That's freaking amazing, I can be like, stealth ninja, catching all the secrets and the juicy deets."

"I feel like a super secret spy."

You jump up and down, clapping your knees in a mini back flip to get started. The staff chuckle as you do some dodging motions, making a dododo mission impossible sound.

"Okay, cool, we're done here? Alright, the girls should be out of the change rooms soon. Who's gonna be my first target. I feel like once they find out they're gonna start avoiding me. So, like, I have to be super stealthy."

Tony, walking onto the pitch behind the team, draws your attention as you pretend to be doing some precursory runs, while the rest of the camera crew pretends to be the photographers for photo day.

"Alright, you lot, let's start with our team photos, since it's photo day. Everyone on the stands, you know the drill."

"Tony! What do we do if we haven't brought our boots?"

You laugh as he rolls his eyes and swats at you lightly. You jog away from your coach and jump up on the stands, intentionally standing one spot to the left to annoy Charlie, who swats at you, shooing you back into place.

"Little turd, move it."

"She's so mean to me."

You wink at the videographers that are setting up.

"Hey guys, Tony says the beep test's optional today."

The girls around you chuckle, and you hear Tony behind you.

"Keep starting rumours, L/n, and you'll be doing it twice."

"No, please."

You turn and give him puppy dog eyes that just make raise a brow at you.

"Ugh, fiiine, I'll behave."

Your arm comes around to rest on Charlie and Alanna shoulders, though you do struggle a bit because Alanna is much taller than you.

"Jeez, Lans, can you like, not be a tree for a second?"

Her elbow digs into your side playfully.

"Can you like, not be a little turd for a second?"

A pout makes it's way onto your face.

*Cut to taking the photo, and everyone's arranged themselves correctly.

"Yo guys, I feel like I'm being bullied here."

-----------

There's the formal picture and the muck around one. Which you end up on Mini's shoulders for.

"Everybody say Mini!"

You throw your arms up in the air as the camera flashes, and Katrina laughs below you.

Tony claps his hands, and the team all move to start the basic dynamic warmups.

-----------

*The camera pans to some cones set out as each group takes their turns dodge and weaving.

"Oh my god, fast feet. Fast feet. Fast feet. Let's f****** go."

The girls in line chuckle behind you and you whoop as Vine follows through behind you.

"Ayyyy, nice one, Viney."

-----------

*Cut to another drill setup.

Your groan is audibly loud as you hear the traumatic sound of the beep test instructional introduction.

"Everybody start, three, two, one, go!"

"Ah f***."

You're panting by the fourteenth round.

"Oi, Tony, can we call it quits now?"

"Nope, keep going."

You pout for a second before jumping when the next beep goes for you to start.

You do halfway decently, making it to level 48 before it catches you off guard.

"You're out, Y/n!"

You grunt and collapse off to the side with the others with a huff, leaving just five of the others still in.

-----------

*Cut to passing drills.

"Ooh, ooh, Foordy, you're my buddy today."

The striker playfully groans, giving you a soft shove. Her arm wraps around your head to give you a noogie.

"Oi, get off!"

"Alrighty, let's go, you lot! That includes you, too, Y/n."

"I feel like I'm being targeted now."

*Cut to short tapping passes.

"Ayo, let's go. I've been practising my mini taps, hit me."

Short sequence of you and Caitlin playing taps with the ball, eventually getting faster to the point of it being a competition to keep it between you.

"Oh f***."

The ball nearly jumps past you for a second before you boot it back.

"Ah s***."

Just barely scrambling to keep it in, you send it back to the striker, but it pops past her to the right.

"YES! Suck on that fast feet!"

The forward clutches at her chest, dramatically falling over and playing dead.

"Nooooooo!"

"HA HA! Victory is miiiine!"

You do a little dance around Caitlin, eventually putting your foot up on the centre of her back in a power pose, grinning at the photographers who take several photos of the moment.

She eventually turns over, shoving your foot off her as you laugh. You pull her up.

-----------

*Another drill set up, shooting this time.

"Woot, yep, here!" "Caity! Here!"

You sprint around the cones as she sends a ball to your head, and you jump to make the header, the ball just barely grazing the post and into the net, falling onto your back with a dramatic scream.

"Oh my f****** god! That was amazing! Ha!"

You shoot up.

"Tony, did you see me? I got an eight footer!"

The camera switches to him, nodding with an amused applause. Off camera, Katrina yells out.

"Honestly, I'm impressed. She only makes up five feet of that!"

The rest of the team and staff crack up at that.

Cut to you, standing still, arms now by your side as your mouth drops open in a confounded expression.

"Did you hear that? Mocking me in my time of triumph. I'm still taller than you, Mini!"

You huff and jog back into line, giving the woman a swat as you pass her.

"Bloody brat, honestly."

You mutter into the mic. You turn to your captain, who's out of frame.

"Sammy! Mini's bullying me!"

"Tell someone who cares, nerd!"

It's faint but still audible, and as the camera pans to her, she takes off with a cheeky grin to make her shot. Which she does, rising to about the same height to make the header.

"Ohhhh! Gah damn! Check it, L/n!"

You just huff, taking a seat as Sam does a backflip.

"Brooo, I just dunked on by the Rabbitohs supporter."

Sam stops, a pout on her face.

"Why you gotta make it personal, bro?"

You poke your tongue out at her.

"Cause the bunnies suck and we all know it. Go the Broncos!"

"Ayyyy, there's my girl!"

You high five Mackenzie as you jog back to the line.

-----------

*Cut to the crew setting up for some scrimmages.

"You think they'll let me pick the teams this time?"

It's said into the mic, but Tony walking up beside you with a resounding, "Not happening." Startles you.

You get picked for Steph's team, opting for war against your skipper now that she's tripped you at least three times since the start of the session.

"I'm gonna get you, Kerr."

"You're not gonna get me."

"I will, fight me on it."

"Chew on my studs, pipsqueak."

"Alright, that's enough, you two. Save it for the scrimmage. Let's set up, you lot."

Steph has to pick you up and walk you away from Sam, a laser point glare from you over her shoulder at the skipper.

"Can you put me down now?"

"You gonna promise not to leave stud marks in Sam's shins?"

"I'll think about it."

"Oh, for the love of god, behave yourself."

It's a stern tone, and the others half to hold back laughs at your dejected expression.

"But she's so mean..."

A stern look from the older girl quietens you, and the camera zooms in on your expression. You give a small wink in its direction.

"What's that, Sammy?! Your mum loves me more than you?! Aw, how sweet is that? I always knew I was the favourite kid. It's okay. Tell Roxy I love her too!"

"Oi!"

You end up getting chased across the pitch to which you move to hide behind Alanna, poking your tongue out at Sam as she growls.

"Samantha Kerr! Back to your side of the pitch!"

It's Steph.

"But she started it!"

"Sam, I swear to god."

"Fiiiine."

You poke your tongue one last time and jog over to the defender, an innocent smile on your face.

"She's a bloody child, ay."

The glare you get from her makes you shrink a little, and Mackenzie just wacks you on the back of the head.

"Owww, Macca!"

You quieten up after that, though, and Steph starts putting everyone into positions and game plans.

-----------

*cut to about halfway through the game, Steph had initially positioned you away from the Skipper to avoid either of you fueling your apparent and sudden sibling rivalry but she ends up having to move you back anyway since you play best in the mirror position to your captain anyway.

"Steph! Hit me! Hitme! Here!"

Just like you'd been practising just minutes earlier, the ball gets sent in directly to your head and slips past Lydia when she goes down for it.

"OHHH, suck on that NeRD!"

You hop around Sam giggling when she tries to swat at you, before you all return to positions.

It's only when a camera cut to minutes later finds you and Sam battling it out in the centre.

The moment she goes for the ball, you slip past her, tapping the ball between her legs and crossing it to Alanna, who volleys it in.

The entire field just breaks into "Ohhhhh"s and whistles.

Sam does a dramatic fall to her knees and flops to the ground as you jump onto Alanna's back with a whoop.

"OH, she's spicy today, ladies and gents!"

Alanna shakes her head, dropping you from her grasp and you both return to your positions.

A couple more minutes go by.

"Oh lordy lord, she's got skill! Mini, watch right! Mini watchright! Ayy atta girl!"

And.

"Clare! I'm here! Toss me! Yepyepyep!"

"Lans! Im going! I'm runnin'!"

"Let's freaking goooo!"

-----------

*The cuts to right before the whistle blows, and Tony calls the end of training.

"Alright, well done, excellent work all of you. Rest up, recovery work, warm down. We've got a big day ahead of us tomorrow."

You jump in the centre of the huddle quickly.

"Before anyone leaves, I have an announcement... you're all on Mic'd Up with the Tillies! Photo Day edition!"

Some of the girls groan around you, Sam in particular. Some of them start laughing as you do the stealth stance.

"I was a fricken ninja, guys, I'll tell ya!"

"Yeah, Tony definitely already knew you were Mic'd up."

"Shush, you."

Tony just grins as the camera pans to him, and he winks at it.

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

[the-ace-with-spades]

fluffy or funny prompt: jake or bradley finds out what the other has named them in their phone contact list/ finds out the (profile) picture they have set when called/ find out the phone background is of the other

Don't know if this meets what you meant but here it is! it might not make much sense but I haven't read it over after writing

Thank you so much for this prompt (and the other ones as well, will try to get to them at some point I think 😅)!

...

Sometimes, Jake thinks that if Bradley’s head wasn’t screwed on, he’d have lost it long ago too. Jake’s thought he was used to it but since he moved in a week ago, it’s been non-stop. This time, he’s been calling Bradley’s phone for the past five minutes, trying to find where in the house he’s left it.

Finally, Jake finds it vibrating in their bedroom, in their bed, of all places, and under Jake’s pile of pillows.

The face that greets him on the screen is his own — it’s his Facebook profile picture because Bradley is the type of old man that links his Facebook with his contacts book, no matter what he says. That part doesn’t surprise him, but as he lets it ring and ring in his hand, he can’t help being a bit offended.

“You have me saved by name and surname? Not even a heart emoji next to it,” he complains. The screen flashes once, Jake Seresin NOK written on top disappears and the whole thing swaps to black and then to Bradley’s basic default lockscreen. “What am I to you, your accountant?”

Only way it could be worse is if he used Jake's government name, Jacob and all.

“I've got everyone saved up that way, you’re not that special baby,” he says, unamused. “My pops did it this way and he was fine.”

For a second, something in Jake’s mouth dries out — he’s rarely heard anything about Bradley’s dad and yet this small little bit takes the air out of his lungs. Bradley doesn’t elaborate because he never does but he’s so used to it almost doesn’t hurt.

“Knew you're an old man deep down your heart.”

Bradley grumbles under his nose, rolling his eyes before he reaches his hand out for the phone — yeah, not gonna be that easy just now.

“Hey,” Jake says as he pretends to give him the phone. “What does NOK mean?”

“Nothing,” Bradley replies, his whole face turning a nice shade of pink that is only reserved for three things — being caught being sweet, being embarrassed, and being horny. Jake swiftly hides the phone behind his back, swapping the hands that come and try to “Come on, I was looking for it for a reason, I need to make a call—”

Bradley steps closer, close enough his knee pins Jake’s legs to the edge of the bed. Any closer and they’d be chest to chest, the warmth of his body already inviting Jake to lean into it, lean forward and take Bradley down into the bed with him.

“What are you so embarrassed about, huh? Got a gallery of my sleeping pictures in there?”

“Jake,” he spits out, arms trying to reach around Jake’s torso — he might have longer limbs than him, but Jake is faster and has more siblings to give up easily. “Sersin.”

“En—Ooh—Kay,” he repeats and then repeats again, now holding the phone behind his head, up in the air.

Bradley takes a step back and looks at the unpacked box of Jake’s shoes on the floor. His cheeks are full-on red now, and he’s pouting in that cute, hypnotising way that makes Jake want to squeeze his face and kiss his pretty little red nose.

“It means next of kin.”

“Oh,” is all Jake can get out for a second. His arms fall to his sides. “Am I your—”

Bradley nods his head before he can even finish. He’s still not looking at him. Jake doesn’t say but all he can think of is that his ma is his next of kin still.

“Most people just go with In Case of Emergency, you know,” he says instead. Bradley isn’t his NOK but he’s his ICE. There’s a difference. “Woulda be nice if you said something.”

“Well,” Bradley doesn’t even try to quip back, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “Can I have my phone back now?”

Jake does the carrot and stick thing again — hand with the phone out and retreating back as Bradley is inches away from it. He needs something more, some kind of explanation, explicit one that will confirm to him what Bradley means with the things he did.

“I don't know, can you?” he asks. Bradley scowls at him. “Shouldn't I at least know your code if I'm your next of kin?”

Instead of going for the phone again, Bradley flicks him on the nose. “I’m going to use the landline.”

They’ve been together for over nine months and he still doesn’t know so many things about Bradley, even as fundamental as who was his next of kin before Jake, or what happened to his dad.

Even just looking at Bradley’s phone, he feels something bitter — the joke about Jake’s sleeping pictures was the first thing that came to his mind, but the truth is, he doesn’t know what Bradley could have on his phone. He doesn’t use it often, far less than his walkman and his ipod, but he likes to take blurry pictures that Jake never sees the appeal of — planes in the sky, motorcycles he never even looks to buy, the seaside.

He’s never seen him take pictures of Jake.

Bradley’s phone is asking him for the pin code and Jake doesn’t know it but he wishes he did. It’s not like he wants to look at his texts or search history. He tries anyway — Bradley’s birthday gets him nowhere, his mom’s birthday gets him nowhere.

On a whim, he types in 1216. And it unlocks. Sixteenth of December is his birthday.

What knocks the breath out of his throat is the homescreen picture.

It’s Jake’s face, sleepy, blinking at the light from the phone’s lens, half-buried into Bradley’s chest and his ugly UVA hoodie. He doesn’t even remember Bradley taking this photo, doesn’t remember which of the times Jake napped on Bradley it is from, how long it could’ve been set as Bradley’s phone background.

“Oh.”

He locks the phone again. He’s seen what he wanted to see.

[norel-ravenclaw]

Hazbin Hotel Scenarios

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Featured characters: Alastor, Sir Pentious, Charlie, Angel, Husker, Lucifer, Niffty, Vox, Vaggie, Rosie, Zestial

Rating: sfw; occasional scenarios that hint at reader x character, minor angst and drinking

Description: Random scenarios with Hazbins!

PLEASE ask me to write stuff for Hazbin or Helluva!

- Meeting Rosie and having lunch with her and Alastor, he’s so pleased that you two get along so well. Gossiping after shop hours at Mimzy’s club.

- You find a plushie that reminds you of your fave. (A deer, a spider, a chibi tv character, a snake! So cute!) You’re careful to hide it, but one day they catch you and tease you about it.

- You’re sitting in the hotel lobby at the end of the day, listening to music, and Angel gets home. He leans over the back of the sofa and asks what you’re listening to. You offer him one of your ear buds and laugh at his reaction.

“What is this?”

“Electro swing. You could say I was inspired~” You jump up and grab his hand, urging him to dance with you.

Husker raises a brow at you both from behind the bar, dancing like idiots without music, but you both look so happy, he can’t help but smile.

Alastor walks into the room and sees you attempting swing dancing. Curious, he uses his magic to have the radio pick up the music from your phone.

You notice him and let him join in, trying to teach you the right way to swing. (You’ve never seen him look genuinely happier.)

Angel grabs Husk and makes him dance too.

Hearing the music downstairs, Sir Pentious and Charlie peek down to see what’s happening. Charlie gasps in delight and races to find Vaggie so they can dance.

You end up dancing between everyone there. Even Nifty joins in (making her cockroach puppets dance).

Lucifer gets back in the middle of things, and Charlie gleefully spins over to him, pulling him into the fray and pushing him to you. He tries to apologise for bumping into you, but you’re whisking him into the dance before he can finish.

- Being in hell, being dead, that’s kinda a lot sometimes. Angel’s days are always a lot. So the two of you cuddle basically every time you’re in the same room.

- Charlie, in her bid to find ways for her guests to connect, searches the human realm internet for pictures of everyone. Despite the odds, she somehow manages it.

You’re coming downstairs while she and Nifty are setting up the projector, a very familiar picture of you larger than life on the wall.

Angel awws from the sofa and Husker smacks him.

Then his own picture comes up, a handsome gangster looking man from the twenties.

Now it’s full blown wolf whistles.

Then…

“Alastor?? Damn…”

Angel hears you and grins. “Right?”

“I’d let him kill me~”

The man in question steps in with a complicated smile. “Oh my. I’ll not even ask how you managed to get ahold of such a thing.”

Charlie squeals in excitement. “It took me three weeks! Ooh, Angel is next!”

A… skilfully cropped picture is next of him.

Sir Pentious comes down the stairs behind you (you’re still impressed that the snake can navigate stairs) and gasps when his own portrait comes up in the slideshow. “Oh my ssstars!”

“Woah, check out those luscious locks Pen,” Angel says.

Everyone gets a drink after that.

- Alastor smiling so softly at you when he takes you to Cannibal Town and you think the old architecture is pretty. A band is playing in a nearby gazebo… more impromptu dancing. A chance to fix your embarrassing lack of skill, he insists.

- You’re going to bed one night and happen to see Sir Pentious coming out of his room without his top hat, and you’re frozen for a second.

“Oh, hello. Er, isss something wrong?”

“N-no! Sorry, it’s just… your uh… It looks like you have the most amazing hair, the way the black comes around your face… It’s pretty… Sorry, sorry this is so weird, I’m sorry goodnight!”

You slam your bedroom door, leaving him a blushing mess.

- Angel is teasing you about something (or someone) and says something about calling them Daddy.

“Ugh, I’m not calling anyone that!”

“No? Husky, whaddya think about him?”

He glares at us while wiping down a glass and you shrug. “I mean he’s definitely daddy material, but I’m still not calling him that.”

Angel bursts out laughing before Husker throws a glass at you both.

- Imagine being brilliant with social media, blowing up your tiny one person business overnight in helping people promote their stuff, and catching the attention of the Vees. Telling them casually the solutions to problems they’ve been trying to solve for months. Their looks of impressed and interested awe.

- You were out for the day with Lucifer and Alastor, knowing they had a meeting with the overlords later. You wait outside, and Zestial, uncharacteristically running almost late, passes you by on the way in. You are a bit old fashioned, and the way you politely incline your head to him makes him stop in his tracks and ask your name. Perhaps it is worth noting a soul such as yourself…

- Every time you appreciate something from the 20’s/30’s, Alastor gets so happy and clingy with you. Everyone comments how touchy is is with you and just to spite them he starts doing it more.

- Bumping into your fave in the small but densely packed library, with collections from both Charlie and Lucifer. Reading together in comfortable silence. (Or scrolling on their phone as they’re escaping someone/something.)

- Helping Charlie pirate human realm leadership podcasts as she’s stepping into her role more.

- Making a (non magical) deal with Alastor after Lucifer screams at him one too many times for not listening to his voicemails. For every technological or modern world bit of information you share, he’ll teach you something from his own era.

- Finding Alastor tinkering on old radios he collects, sleeves rolled, jacket off. Losing your mind over his deer tail and scrambling - failing - to hide your sheer delight. Finally breaking down and confessing that it’s absolutely darling~ He threatens to kill you and you agree it would be justified. He huffs and nods you over to his desk. He could use a second pair of hands. Or maybe he just wants to electrocute you so you can never tell a soul what you just saw, he says with a smile.

- Vox was there from the beginning days of television, and as much as he knows how brutal the entertainment business is, he still secretly likes a bunch of old fashioned shows and movies that no one ever talks about. He’d be so happy if you threw a vintage movie night for him and let him ramble about the good old days~ Dust off his warehouse collection of old memorabilia and string up lights and he’ll ask you to marry him.

- Going shopping with Angel! Snack and lunch stops are a must.

- Husker is dead on his ass drunk, having a breakdown on the stairs one night. Bottle in one hand, head resting on the bannister posts. You come downstairs for a midnight snack, and seeing him sitting there, you decide to sit on the other end of the step. You don’t say a word, just letting your tail wrap around his and mirroring his own position with your head on the railing post too. You just sit there together for fifteen minutes before he mutters a thanks you can barely hear and heads upstairs.

- Discovering you have Sinner Powers and having eager Morningstars and Alastor help you practice.

- If you hate bugs, helping Nifty make traps for the roaches. She’s your best friend after that. Like it or not.

- Vaggie drunkenly tells you that she secretly wants to see Charlie all princessed up one day. So you and Angel find a dress and fix up her hair (Nifty wants to help! The end result is amazing, but she might have to cut off her hair to get out all the tiny braids, whooops.) Vaggie has a conniption when she sees her and starts stumbling over her words and everything. Alastor puts on a record for them to waltz to. Lucifer is there. He definitely cries. 5000%.

- Going to visit Rosie on your own and getting allll the tea on Alastor~

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 7

This story is just coming right along. I've decided that it is split into three acts. The Arrangement, The Turn, and The Embrace. The first is about Steve adjusting to his new life. The second is thinking he needs to get out of the situation. And lastly the third is about finding acceptance and love with Eddie.

Yesterday for WIP Wednesday, I finished act 1. I figure if I pace this right, each act will be roughly ten chapters. But we'll see.

In this Eddie is sweet as always, Steve goes clothes shopping, and Chrissy misunderstands what Steve is trying to do.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

~

Steve woke up to the sound of someone knocking on his door. He looked at the clock on the nightstand blearily. It was a little after nine am.

The knocking began again and he got unsteadily to his feet and wandered over to the door. He opened it.

Behind the door was a porter. “My apologies for the rude awakening, sir. But this came for you, marked ‘Urgent’.”

In the porter’s hands was a small box. Steve nodded and took the box. He set it on the side table and grabbed his wallet. He tipped the porter and grunted his thanks before slamming the door.

He trotted back over to the bed and flopped face first back into his pillows.

The next time he awoke it was more naturally, and closer to 10:30am than 9am. He rolled over on his back with a sigh. He’d missed breakfast, but he didn’t mind. He was tired. Just the feeling of nothingness clung to his chest like a heavy blanket.

He sat up and spotted the box. He picked it up and padded over to the desk. He looked around it for a moment and to his delight he found a letter opener.

“Thank god, for fussy hotels,” he murmured as he used the letter opener to open the box. He set the letter opener down and then took the box over to the sofa. He loved comfy it was despite it being black in color.

He pulled at the packaging to reveal a pair of designer sunglasses. Steve smiled as he pulled it out. Eddie must have thought of it when he heard Steve’s message about his day. All the driving around he did.

He picked up the phone and called Eddie.

“Hey, little Canary,” Eddie purred. “Did you sleep well?”

“Nearly,” Steve said with a hint of smile in his tone. “I got this urgent package from this hot rich guy that the front desk just had to wake me up for.”

“Whoops!” Eddie said, chagrin. “I didn’t think it would get there until this afternoon, sweetheart.”

Steve laughed. “It’s okay, I was able to go right back to sleep. Even remembered to tip the porter.”

“All’s well that end’s well,” Eddie said softly.

They talked for a bit before Steve said, “Oh, I was meaning to ask you. I have something I wanted to send to you. Is there an address or something I can send it to, to make sure you get it?”

“Aww...little Canary,” Eddie teased back, “you don’t have to send me anything. I like buying you things.”

“Oh I know,” Steve replied. “But I think you’ll really get a kick out this one, though.”

“Sure thing, baby,” Eddie said. “I’ll talk to Chrissy and she’ll give you a call with the information. How does that sound?”

“That sounds perfect, Eddie,” Steve murmured.

“What are your plans for today?”

Steve licked his lips as he thought about it. “Probably some clothes shopping now that I have this fancy black card to splash around.”

Eddie laughed. “You do that, baby. Just tell me which stores you’re going to so I can make sure they’re warned ahead of time about the card. Places like that are super weird about new people coming in with that kind of cash.”

“Ooh...” Steve said with a grimace. “Yeah, I saw that happen once. This woman had won the lottery or something and she came into the shop when I was there with my mom. The sales woman was absolute horrid to her and chased her out. My mom threw the newspaper on the counter and walked out. The front page had the picture of the woman and her three million dollar prize check. It was one of the few times I ever saw my mom do something remotely nice like that.”

After they hung up, Steve got up grabbed the box of truffles. He took a couple out to the box to eat while he gather up his things for a shower. He thought about hitting the gym again, but he wasn’t sure if the pink bitch was still here and he wanted to avoid her like the plague. And while he knew he could swim instead, he decided to take the day off.

Yesterday had been rough and he wanted to do a little bit of retail therapy.

Steve got dressed in his most high end clothing he had and made his way out to his car. Which he knew would be another indicator that he had come from money. His new wallet was designer, just like his new sunglasses.

He primped in the mirror a little to make sure every hair was in place and then he gathered all his stuff and made for his car.

He pulled up to the row of boutiques his mother used to frequent before she started getting her clothes from Paris and Milan. Steve personally thought these places had better quality stuff, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.

He walked into the first boutique and looked around. He kept his sunglasses on until one of the sales women came up to him. Then he lifted him and set them on top of his head. He smiled at her brightly.

“Welcome to Le Chique!” she said cheerily. “How can I help you today?” She was dressed smartly in a knee length pencil skirt and cream silk blouse. She wore high heeled pumps and had her hair pulled back into a tight bun.

“Hi,” Steve greeted back. “I’m just looking to update my wardrobe. Get a little more of an adult style.”

He could see the fucking dollar signs lit up behind her eyes. She clapped her hands together and rubbed them greedily.

“Right this way,” she said, waving her arm in front of her and Steve stepped forward, further into the store. “I’m Olivia and I’ll be happy to assist you today.”

Steve tried on so many clothes he thought his head was going to spin. But never once did Olivia falter. He finally got an updated look. It was similar to what he usually wore with the jeans and polos. But he also got button down shirts and tailored slacks and pants. Everything that fit went with him and everything else that needed to be tailored would be picked up by a PA of Eddie’s and brought to the hotel.

In fact when he got back to the hotel, the mysterious PA had struck again. On his bed was a large box. As he got closer he could see it was from the shop he was at earlier today.

He didn’t know what it could be. He had everything he wanted from the shop. He had even gotten help carrying all his bags up the hotel room by a couple of porters, both of whom Steve tipped well. He kept an eye on the package the whole time he took off the tags and put away his clothes in the dresser and closet.

Once Steve was done he walked over to the package a tad warily. He knew it had come from Eddie. There was no one else it could have come from. He undid the silk ribbon and pulled it off gently. He lifted the lid and set it to the side. He then moved the tissue paper out of the way.

Inside was the most beautiful cream colored suit he had ever seen. He opened the jacket touched the black silk lining. Sticking out of the pocket of the breast pocket was a note. He pulled it out. In the loopy handwriting of the sales woman were the words, “I wanted to get you something special. I hope you’ll wear this for me when I get back to Hawkins.”

Steve shook his head, smiling fondly. He walked over to the phone and called Eddie. He bounced on the bed as it rang through.

“Hey, little Canary,” Eddie purred. “How was your shopping trip?”

“It was marvelous,” Steve giggled. “Though if you want me calling you at times other then when you buy presents, you’re going to have slow up a bit. It’s gorgeous, by the way.”

Eddie laughed. “You got me there, hon. But I’m glad you like the suit. I wanted to surprise you with it. I when I called about the card earlier, I told them that once they got your measurements to set it aside.”

“How did it get here before I did?” Steve asked, twirling the cord around his finger.

“See, I knew you would have a lot of clothes and couldn’t carry it up yourself, so I just made sure to have my little elf slip in while you were dealing with the porters.”

“Sneaky!” he crowed. “I love it. I even bought the perfect shirt to go with it. It’s black and grey in kind of watercolor like stripes. Add a black pocket square and some nice shoes I bought and I’d be the talk of the town.”

“Well you’re already the talk of my world,” Eddie murmured, causing Steve to blush dark red. “Have you eaten yet, little Canary?”

Damn. Steve knew he had forgotten something.

“No...” he whined. “I just got so excited about shopping that it slipped my mind.”

“Don’t you worry, I’ll have dinner sent up to you. I think you’ll really like their hamburgers.”

Steve smiled at that. He had gone out to Benny’s to get a good burger, and they had them here. “Sounds good.”

They talked for a little bit more before Eddie had to go so that he could order Steve dinner, so they said their goodbyes and hung up.

Steve decided to take a shower while he was waiting on his food. He gathered up his things including his new hair products he bought yesterday.

He got undressed and turned on the hot water, letting the steam fill the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror. He looked at every angle of his face and had to admit that he actually looked happy. And wasn’t that a fucking trip.

He had thought he was happy before all this. Yeah, sure his dad was a jerk and his mom was useless, but he had friends, money, a car. Hell, he even had a boyfriend in this backwater hick town.

And then it all fell apart.

He hated how all his friends scattered the second the chips were down. He hated how Tommy turned tail and didn’t even try to take Steve with him. He had no doubt that soon enough the town would be all a twitter about Tommy and Carol and how cute they were together.

It was all bullshit.

The only people that cared about him were the people that would get hurt the most by all this and Steve was determined to keep them out of it.

Just before he got into the shower, the phone rang.

He let out a sigh and went to go answer it. There were only three people who had his number, Eddie, Dustin, and Eddie’s manager, Chrissy. All people Steve didn’t want to leave hanging.

“Hello?” he greeted.

“Steve?” a cool female voice asked. “This is Chrissy, Corroded Coffin’s manager. I understand you wanted to send Eddie something?”

“Oh!” Steve cried. “Yes, thank you for getting back to me so soon. Yeah, it’s not very big, say about the size of a 3x5 picture frame?” He hurried over to the desk, dragging the phone and stretching its cord to the limit to pull out a pen and some hotel stationary.

She hummed. “It’s not, risque is it?”

He laughed. “What? No! It’s nothing like that I promise.”

“Okay,” Chrissy said skeptically. “We have people opening packages before they get sent to the band so don’t send anything you don’t want a total stranger to see.”

“I promise it will mean absolutely nothing to the poor soul that opens their mail,” he informed her, “but he will absolutely get a kick out of it.”

Steve could tell she was still leery about it, but he wasn’t going to ruin the surprise.

She let out a sigh. “Fine. Here’s the address to send it to.” She rattled off an address and Steve dutifully wrote it down. “By the time it gets there, they should be back in LA, so it’ll go to their main mail box.”

He wrote band PO Box over the address and underlined it. “Great, thanks.”

“Now do you need anything else that isn’t their personal information?” she huffed.

Steve winced, he could tell she wasn’t happy being Eddie’s errand girl and by extension, his.

“No,” he said, “Just that. It’s just a small token that I think he’d like.”

“All right,” she said. “Good evening.”

“Good evening!” he chirped back.

Once she had hung up, Steve shook his head. He knew it was her job to to look out for the band. But it wasn’t that big of deal. What she think she was going to do send his dirty panties to the guy?

Not!

He looked down at himself and sighed. He had carried that whole conversation completely naked. He padded back to the bathroom and stepped into the shower.

He stepped under the stream of water and let it soothe him. He was still smarting a little from Chrissy’s attitude. She seemed friendly enough at the bar and genuinely wanted to see Eddie and Steve hit it off.

But something between then and now she had completely soured on him. That was a problem for future Steve, though. Right now in this moment he was going to enjoy his shower, watch some TV and enjoy the burger Eddie was having sent up.

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt

9- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @blondie1006 @sadisticaltarts

[gweninred]

cooking

melissa schemmenti

mention of sex

just a fic based on s2e4 where melissa invites janine in her house to learn cooking.

It came as a shock to you when Melissa invited Janine to your house after seeing her make pork rinds with peanut butter. You'd never thought your wife would invite one of her colleagues. "What time? I mean, can I come? I need you to help me with my wine pairings. Zach gets embarrassed when I ask the clerk for the second least expensive bottle." Jacob jumped up from his seat, Melissa was gathering her things to go back to class. "Well, I couldn't think of a reason why you can't quick enough, so yeah, I frickin' guess you can, buddy." The redhead slapped his shoulder, then turned around to pick up Janines peanut butter ramen to throw it away. "Get rid of that!" She walks out of the room. "Whoa!" Janine threw her hands in the air. "Here, have some of mine so you don't starve today." You offered her the other half of your grilled cheese.

Later that day, the doorbell rang at your shared house. "Will you get that, honey?" Melissa asked, grabbing a few wine glasses from the cabinet. You walked to the door, and there were standing Janine and Jacob. "Hey guys!" They stepped into the house. "Oh wow." They looked around the house. Janine went to look at the wall full of pictures. "This is, uhm... It's Melissa." Jacob chuckled. "Oh, it used to be worse. When I hadn't moved in yet, she had plastic over her couch." You told them. "But don't bring that up, though; it sits deep." Jacob held up a bottle of wine. "I brought this. I think it's called a 'blend' because they just mix all the best wines together." You led your colleagues to the kitchen, where Melissa was. "Well, hello to you too." Janine went to give your wife a hug. "Hey. Did you bring the onion?" Melissa quickly turned away to avoid giving the other teacher a hug.

"Yeah!" Janine went to look in her bag. "That's a shallot?" Melissa held up the grocery. "A what now?" The brunette asked. "A shallot. I said, get an onion." You walked to the fridge to get a bottle of wine. "Oh, Janine thought it was an onion that was adorable and small like her, and who am I to shatter that illusion?" Jacob cut in. "Wine?" You asked. "It seems more like I need vodka right now." Melissa was annoyed. "Ooh! Now I get to patronize a local vendor. Brb!" Jacob pulled on his coat to get an onion. "I swear to god, if you get a white onion!" Melissa yelled at him before he shut the door behind him.

"So, what are we making?" Janine asked, you handed her a glass of red wine. "Pesto pasta." You told her. "And I only like it when Melissa makes it." You walked up to her, placing the glass of wine on the kitchen counter in front of her. "She's my cooking princess." You smiled up at her, placing a kiss on her temple. "Yeah, Y/n isn't normally allowed in the kitchen when I'm cooking." Melissa wrapped her arm around your waist, pulling you close to her. "So, Janine, you can start by peeling this garlic." She handed her a cutting board and knife. "Just cut into very small pieces." Janine hummed. "So, what's my job tonight, babe?" You asked, squeezing Melissa's waist. "Just make sure the pasta doesn't overcook." She slipped away from your grip to continue her cooking. "Okay, boss." You hopped onto the counter next to the stove, sipping on your glass of wine.

Around 45 minutes later, the table was set. Some scented candles were burning around the house (Melissa's favorites, white musk and warm vanilla). and the onion Jacob went to get successfully made into the pesto sauce. Another bottle of wine had opened after dinner, with Melissa telling Janine she did well for her first cooked dinner.

"If you spill wine on the couch, I'll sue you." Melissa tells her coworkers, as they take a seat in the living room, you are sitting next to your wife. "So I also brought these cards to get to know each other more." Janine is excited. A sigh escaped the redhead's mouth, and you poked your elbow in her side. "Okay, Jacob!" Janine grabbed one of the cards. "If you could invent anything, what would it be?" Jacob crossed his legs, thinking. "A time machine. You know I love history, so I'd love to travel back in time." He explained. "Crab the next card, Jacob." Janine told him. "Y/n, what is your favorite thing about home?" He asked you. "Oh! Easy, Melissa, of course." You smiled at her, her hand creeped up your back, rubbing soothingly. "You're sweet." She placed a kiss on top of your head. "Ahw." You heard from Janine. "When Terique and I were together, he always told me I-" Melissa cut her off. "No one is making you tell these stories, you know?" You grabbed a card. "Right..." The other teacher sat back, sipping her wine. "Melis, what is a secret you never told anyone?" You asked. Melissa placed her wine on the coffee table, thinking. "A secret I haven't told anybody." She thought out loud. 

Melissa turned to you. "You know my boyfriend before you?" She rubbed your arm. "Gary, the vending machine guy?" She nodded. "We were in a relationship, and we never had sex." She giggled. "Ever?" Jacob asked, his mouth agape. "Never," she confirmed. You lauguhed, feeling tipsy. "How did you keep that up for so long?" You asked. "And why didn't he, you know, how could he resit you?" You were confused as to how he could ever resist Melissa, in your eyes the most beautiful woman. "Well, maybe it was kind of me. Now I know I'm more into  women."She wrapped her arms around you to keep you close.

A few hours had passed, and you were now sitting on Melissa's lap sideways, your arm wrapped around her neck as she held you around your waist. Janine and Jacob had left around 11. Melissa gave the leftover to Janine so she could eat it tomorrow at lunch. You had been making out but felt quite tired. You kissed down Melissa's neck, but your kisses were getting sloppier by the second. "Let's go to bed." You mumbled against her neck. You were now a little more than tipsy. "Alright, hon." Melissa pulled you up, holding hands as you made it up to your shared bedroom.

"I couldn't imagine never having sex with you." You slurred as you two lay in bed. Your head is lying on the redhead's chest. "I would have sex with you right now if I wasn't this tired." Melissa giggled at your words, slightly massaging your scalp. "Goodnight, honey."

[ilyasorokinn]

omgggg happy 3rd anniversary to you!!!! here's to many more to come 🥂 for this celebration can i please request, from the general fluffy dialogue prompt list number 8 + 9 with mat barzal pls? thank you!

WINNIE MARTIN’S FAVORITE PERSON

this is the first of my tumblr-versary blurbs, so if that annoys you, block the tag 'taylor's tumblr-versary' love ya <3

8. "who let you be this cute today?" 9. "can we wait a second? i wanna take a picture of you right now." (from this prompt list)

you tried to go to as many games as you could, but you had a job so making it to every game was impossible. but, when you could make it to games, mat made sure to plan ahead and make sure you were gonna have a good time.

"you have a ride, right?" mat asked from the bathroom where he was still getting read.

"yes, i have a ride." you sighed. a moment of silence enveloped you and you knew something was wrong, "you okay? you need help with anything?" you asked.

"...yes." he hesitated.

"you can't tie your tie, can you?" you smiled.

"no." you could see the pout on his face as you made your way into the bathroom.

"ooh." you teased, "mathew barzal, who let you be this cute today?" you teased, enjoying the shy smile on his face.

"stop please. just help." he handed you the tie he wanted to wear, but you shook your head, "what?"

"mat, i love you, but your sense of style is awful." you winced, recalling every bad fashion choice you had seen him make. you set the tie on the counter and grabbed a different one, one that better matched the suit he was wearing, and began tying it.

"i should.be offended." the smile on his face told you he wasn't.

"i'm saving you from ending up on people's worst dressed." you shrugged.

he rolled his eyes, "so, before i go, can i see what you're gonna wear tonight?" it was no secret that you loved dressing up for games. it was fun and you liked doing it. you usually had little pieces with his name, number, or team colors. something to show your support, and mat loved it.

"nope." you shook your head.

"what? why not?"

"that ruins the surprise," you told him.

"you're gonna make me wait till after the game to see." he pouted.

"i don't know. maybe i'll be there at warmups." you shrugged, smiling when he perked up, "i think syd's bringing win, so maybe i'll go down with them." she was your ride, so going down to the ice for warmups made sense.

"okay, well, i guess i might see you during warmups." he kissed your forehead.

"maybe." you shrugged, wrapping your arms around his waist, "try not to fall, okay?" he rolled his eyes.

"i don't do it on purpose." he insisted.

you smiled, "score goals." you told him, leaning up and giving him a quick peck.

"for you, always." he hummed.

after he left, you got ready as quickly as you could and before you knew it, sydney martin was pulling up outside your building, "y/n yl/n, you always put the rest of us to shame."

"oh, stop it." you smiled bashfully.

"i'm serious. how you do it astounds me." she ran her finger over the sleeve of your jacket, "doesn't y/n look pretty, win?" you looked to the backseat where winnie was sitting, clutching a stuffed animal.

"pretty." she smiled.

"thank you, miss win." you winked before getting into the passenger side.

true to your word, you followed sydney down to the ice for warmups and helped keep winnie entertained. you could tell sydney was a little tired, so you did your best to keep her attention.

when the boys came out, you couldn't help but smile when mat tossed a couple of pucks over the ice to a few kids. winnie's eyes were glued to the ice as she watched all the guys skate around.

matt skated over, making his daughter laugh, blowing her kisses and even tossing her a puck, which she clutched to her chest along with her stuffed animal.

when your mat finally skated over, sydney took her daughter back so you and mat could have a moment. he smiled, taking notice of your jacket. he spun his finger, and you gave him a little twirl so he could see your jacket.

he gave a thumbs up and a nod, which made you laugh. he tossed a puck over and nodded to a kid behind you, whose eyes were glued. on mat, watching him mesmerized.

you nodded and waved. as he skated backward, he waved and winked. you rolled your eyes before looking at the puck. you smiled when you noticed that mat had signed it.

you turned around to the kid, who looked at you, probably after having seen mat point at him. you laughed before you handed it to him, "this is from barzy." you told him, "have fun tonight."

you turned back to sydney, who had her phone out and was probably recording and taking pictures of the whole thing, "you guys are so cute." she hugged you, "now come on, let's get some drinks." you smiled when winnie raised her arms in your direction, a signal that she wanted to be picked up.

after the game, and an ot goal scored by mat, you waited with sydney and the other girls in the tunnel. you were sitting with sydney, and the entire game, winnie was in your lap. somehow she had gravitated from her seat into your lap, but you didn't mind.

"look, win, there's your dad." you pointed when you saw matt walk out. she gave him a wave, but yawned and laid her head on your shoulder, "i'm tired, too." you patted her back, making the martin's smile.

you waved when you saw mat walk out. he made his way over to you and hugged you, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "i'm proud of you. overtime goal!" you cheered quietly, not wanting to disturb winnie too much.

"i know. all for you." he smiled into your hair before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, "you ready to go?" you hummed.

"wait, wait, before you guys go." sydney stopped you, pulling out hr phone, "can we wait a second? i wanna take a picture of you right now." she begged.

"fine." mat rolled his eyes playfully, but posed for the picture nonetheless. after the picture was taken, you were going to hand winnie off to her parents, but she clung to you.

"come on, we gotta go home, winnie." sydney sighed, flashing. youan apologetic smile.

"how about this? i'll carry you in the car, but after that, i gotta go." you offered, and she nodded, "all right, let's go." you switched arms and started heading int he direction of sydney's car.

mat walked by your side, holding your hand and talking to you about whatever. unbeknownst to you, sydney, who was trailing behind you and mat, was snapping pictures.

you set winnie in her car seat and waved, "bye, winnie girl." you blew her a kiss and she blew you one back, which you accepted and held close to your chest, which made her laugh.

you walked back to mat's car, "that felt very domestic." he told you.

"keep dreaming, barzal. let's stick to babysitting."

"i know, i know." he raised his hands in surrender.

as you got waited for mat to get into bed later that night, you saw sydney's tag and checked out the instagram story. it was a photo she had taken, without your knowledge, of you and mat walking towards the parking garage, hand-in-hand, winnie in your arms, her head on your shoulder with the caption 'her favorite person ever ❤️ @/yourusername'

mat hopped into bed next to you and saw the post, "you're right. we do look domestic." you smiled.

"let's stick to babysitting." he joked.

taylor's tumblr-versary!

[apollosunshineisdead]

my favorite lyric or two from every will wood song

Everything is a Lot:

6up 5oh: "they shoulda fried me, I'll give ya PTSD!"

skeleton Appreciation Day: "give me all your LSD so i can feel my mind unweave again!"

front Street: "you said let loose, but now you're lost"

aikido!: "i told doctor tillis to prescribe an illness, but he said his schedule's filled with children with need Prozac, prilosec and lo-jack, triple-sec and lexapro"

white Knuckle Jerk: "i wonder how i woke up in the middle of my surgery, and i watched them botch my heart"

cover This Song!: "i'm just a little bit crazy 'bout you, just a little bit out of my mind"

Thermodynamic Lawyer: "so all that i see, absolute entropy as the chemical bounds fall apart"

red Moon: "the crescent rests, tethered to the west"

lysergide Daydream: "ooh, i wanna be on the picture on the postcard, pouring pitchers in the backyard by the garden we tend"

the First Step: "i lost count after 21 in the college crawl"

jimmy Mushrooms': "i think the truth is that everyone's wrong!"

Compound Fracture: "bienvenidos a la villa de arañas españas"

everything is a Lot: "night sky, i wonder why i am alive until i die / i find that at this size, no answer can be right"

destroy to Enjoy: "lao tzu, chaung tzu, yin-yang tattoos, FUCK your mystic wisdom! find your own way home from Bonnaroo!"

SELF-iSH:

self-: "i'll shake the apples from my family tree, so when the autumn comes to take the leaves..."

2012: "testing my hypothesis, never finding a theory!"

cotard's Solution: "rolling my third eye into the back, of my head and squinting through the black"

mr. Capgras: "eulogy or biography, i'm who i ought to be, and that is God to me"

the Song with 5 Names: "WHAT IS "IS"? WHAT IS "NOT"? WHAT IS "WHAT"? WHAT'S UP PARTY PEOPLE! WHAT? / WHY I WONDER WHY I'M NOT WHATEVER, WHAT THE FUCK!"

hand Me My Shovel: "looking up, i could say Heaven sent me! / hand me my shovel, i'm going in!"

dr. Sunshine is Dead: "i'm noone if i'm nowhere in between!"

-ish: "well at 27 will i see, that i was born to be the man i'll be?"

The Normal Album:

greetings from Mary Bell Township!: "so give me your half-life crisis / i can tell that you know where paradise is!"

(vampire) Culture: come on, drink that BLOOD! didn't they want your blood?

Love Me, normally: the Lord looked down, said, "hey, you're only mortal"

2econd 2ight 2eer: "my grip on the secrets' slippin' while i'm speakin' in tongues!"

laplace's Angel: "so if you wash your hands of where you've been until you flood the second floor / neatly fold your skeletons, but still can't shut the closet door"

i/Me/myself: "eating your prosthetic, meet your anesthetic"

...well, better than the Alternative: "she's gonna be a lot like me, but i don't wanna be at all like me"

outliars And Hyppocrates: "i am the shadows cast aside by gallows, and you, the red hot sky"

blackBoxWarrior - OKULTRA: "his ribcage was a hornet's nest, his palpitations set the beat!"

marsha, thankk you for the Dialects: "doctor, what's my prognosis if the studies show that / disease is in the eye of the beholder, tell me "so it goes!""

love, Me Normally: "is there nothing to fear, cuz shit's getting weird!"

memento Mori: "no need to fear cuz when it's Here you won't be alive / try not to think about it!"

Camp Here & There: Campfire Songs:

venetian Blind Man: "string on his finger, a tourniquet ring"

yes, to err is Human: "if you don't hate me, then reanimate me!"

your body, My Temple: "furthering the fever of your fervor for believing, I will"

when somebody Needs you: "fishing lure moon on a string for you, didn't you say you need space?"

"In Case I Make It,"

tomcat Disposables: "what's the moon made of? meet me there after i'm gone"

becoming The Lastnames: "weeding out the garden where the milestones gather moss"

Cicada Days: "here at the end of days, my god, what have I done? / christ, now it feels damn inhumane to get all i dreamed of"

euthanasia: "and every, everybody dies / fighting for their lives, just trying to survive"

falling Up: "airplane eclipses over spirals of math – would or could the impact kill me?"

that's Enough, let's get you Home: "but CO2 and fish tanks do enough to get you home"

um, it's Kind of a Lot: "sorry darling, please excuse my constant need to self-aggrandize!"

half-Decade Hangover: "but i can't make amends for things i can't remember"

vampire Reference in a Minor Key: "the seraphim on my shoulder, whispering "please don't turn your head""

you liked this: "Ten Red Flags that a Neurotypical Narcissist is Trauma Dump Gaslighting You into Sex-Negative Self-Abuse Emotional Labor and Internalised Reverse Racism Against Post-Modern Flat Earthers with Facts and Logic (Number Seven Will Destroy Your Family)"

the Main Character: "judge me by what my cover shows, author becomes beyond reproach"

Against the Kitchen Floor: "i'm not a good person, i'm barely a person at all"

Sex, Drugs, Rock 'n' Roll: "and i hate proving that i'm still human after all"

BFB's Blueberry Pie: " "

Willard!: "so gather 'round pandora's skinner's box, look through the one-way mirror / if you can see in shade's of grey, the colors are much clearer"

White Noise: "it begs the question just to tell you the answer!"

ICIMI outtakes:

misanthrapologist: "I hear your hear beating under the floorboards" and if i did, you deserved it: "that i really don't carе what you think or what you say, either that or I do way too much, oh well whatever, either way"

thank you for listening

[darlingsfandom]

You're a movie star darling.

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem! reader.

Warnings: P in V unwrapped, sex tape, swearing!

The moons light peaked through the windows as you stood in the middle of the honeymoon suite. The moon highlighted your body as you stood in your wedding dress, veil still attached to your hair as Thomas came back into the room with a smile on his lips and hands behind his back.

"Wow, look at you Mrs. Shelby." He approached you slowly before kissing you on the lips. Your hands reached out for him but he took a step back waving his index finger at you. Your head tilted to the side until you seen him pull the camera out from behind his back. Your eyebrows knitted in confusion as Tommy set up the camera on the dresser.

"I don't ... I don't understand, what are you doing Tommy ?" You played with your fingers as he walked up to you and helped you take off your white wedding gloves. He kissed your hand gently, up your arm and over your neck. Your lips opened but no sound came out. It's not the first time Thomas kissed your neck but every time felt like the first. His lips ran over along your jawline as he guided you back towards the bed until you fell back onto the mattress. You looked up at him through your eyelashes as Thomas stood above you and undid his pants. "You never answered me !" Your voice came across soft as Thomas pulled down his pants.

"You and I are going to make a video of us having sex darling." Thomas pointed at the camera before pulling you back up to your feet. You looked at the camera and gulped a little before you heard the sound of him unzipping your dress filled your ears. "Oh sweetheart, white lingerie , how gorgeous of you." He kissed your shoulder gently while undoing your bra and helped you pull it down your arms making sure the camera captured your beautiful tits on film. His fingers toyed with your nipples while you tilted your head exposing your neck to him while your hand reached behind you and pulled on the nape of his neck causing him to bite your collar bones.

Thomas spun you around to face him before he threw you on the bed watching as the veil spread out behind you. He grabbed your legs and yanked you forward as he climbed on top of you. His fingers unbuckled your garters as fast as he could. Your breath hitched as Thomas gripped your thighs , spread your legs open and ran the head of his cock against your slippery folds. With each inch pushing in a small gasp left your lips while your face scrunched in pleasure. "It's okay baby, you're a movie star darling!" He kissed you hard until he was deep inside you and started thrusting in and out of you. Thomas was gentle at first making sure not to hurt you even though this was far from your first time, it was your first time as his wife. It felt different but in the best way possible.

"So gorgeous for me." Thomas stroked your cheek gently with the back of his hand while his thrust picked up the pace making your breasts jiggle out of the corset you still had on. You were a picture of innocence being torn apart as Thomas fucked you like an animal. His fingers wrapped around your neck softly watching that little twinkle show up as your eyes rolled back and your thighs squeeze together around him. Your breathing was hot and heavy. Your lips were parted, swollen and red. A beauty! Thomas couldn't hold back anymore. He angled your hips upwards and snapped his hips faster into you.

"Ooo! Thomas! Just like that! " you cried out was your own orgasm hit you like an whirlwind. Your orgasm was there in proof as a creamy ring around the base of his cock. "Ooh sweetheart!" Thomas could feel his own orgasm was on the edge of explosion as he leaned into you and kissed you feverishly. It was only second later that he spilled his seed deep inside of you. He panted while looking into your eyes with a smile painted on his lip. "My beautiful movie star, that was just the start!"

[ahomeganeyatsu]

Like You

Dan Heng was in the archives sorting through some of the back log materials Caelus had sent him a few days ago. He has become aware how curious Caelus can get and to what extent he can get carried away with exploring, but it still boggles him how the other Trailblazer got his hands on some of these literature.

It had been an off-handed comment, a joke, when they had likened him to a raccoon. None of them were laughing now. Though the exasperated affection remained.

His phone dings with a new message as he reads through one of the new texts. He sets it aside, seeing the familiar icon.

"Look!" Attached was an image of what Dan Heng could only describe as a feline-like creature, tucked snugly into some kind of cushion. There was something unnervingly familiar about it.

The chat bubble from Caelus pops up indicating he was actively typing something. A fwop and another message appears.

"He reminds me of you!"

Dan Heng raises a brow. Which part?

"It's vibe is totally like yours!"

Dan Heng snorts at the message and shakes his head. At a second glance, he cannot deny the claim. The critter awfully did remind him of himself. How it came to have his clothes particular color scheme was baffling.

"Can't tell from the picture," he replies. He can just imagine the little pout on Caelus' face.

"Ooh! What's got you smiling like that Dan Heng?" he does not flinch at March 7th's sudden appearance. He hasn't even realized he had been smiling. Not until he smoothens his face into his usual deadpan look as he glances at the girl.

"Nothing."

"Uh-huh." March says, but the knowing look she shoots him tells him just what she really thinks of that.

He ignores it and types up a standard reply regarding Caelus' new "discovery".

If he saves the picture, along with one that came with an additional critter that resembles a certain bat-weilding trailblazer, well, no one needs to know. That's just between him his phone.

[underrrated1]

Could I ask Admiral Kizaru for your series? 🙈 Thank you!

Surprisingly polite

I love all the admirals so much, it's crazy and I think I need help ❤️

Photographer! Series

Honestly, it was crazy for Morgan to even accept a job from the Cross Guild. Sure, he was all about publicity and money, it should've been obvious to someone like Y/N, who'd been working under him for years. Yet it surprised them anyway.

"Jeez, how crazy does he have to be" Y/N muttered under their breath while looking at the note in their hand, "Any and every marine we see? He's just trying to get use killed, they're always so dense and rude,"With a sigh they stuffed the note into their jacket pocket. "Most of them anyway."

Morgan had sent out a mass note to every photographer on and off duty. It was simple, yet got a message through.

"Get a photo of any and every Marine you can. The better the photo and higher the rank, the better the pay."

Anyone would be crazy not to take him up on the offer, he really did know how to get people pumped up and excited. His bonuses were really big, and added into a regular pay just made it better. Much to contrary belief, he was a good employer.

The day wasn't anything special, Y/N was simply wondering around an island, admiring the local stalls and making friends. They took the chance to write down anything they thought was interesting, maybe Morgan would take any of it and write it into a story, albeit heavily edited to where it was barely anything like the real story. That's just how he was.

The sound of multiple gasps and loud murmurs from people had caught their attention, pulling their eyes away from the pretty fruit stand infront of them. It was obvious what everyone was looking and pointing at even at first glance, seeing as it was pretty hard to miss an almost 10ft tall man wearing a yellow striped suit with a Marines coat hanging off his shoulders.

This was their chance, maybe, honestly, they were a little scared. Someone almost twice their height with such rumored power, anyone would be. But it was their job, their duty to Morgan and their coworkers. They knew most would scare at the opportunity, even with a huge bonus for it.

Taking a deep breath, they mentally hyped themselves up and took brave steps, but they sort of had to jog to catch up with the Admiral.

"Mr. Borsalino! Um, Admiral!" They called out, waving their hand while jogging after said man.

He pause infront of them, freezing for a second before slowly turning around and setting his eyes on them. He let out a hum and turned his head slightly to the side.

"Oh? What's this?" He chuckled leaning down slightly.

While he wasn't really trying to intimidate anyone, he sure did. His towering physic shadowing over their normal one. Y/N let out a shakey breath before closing their eyes to give themselves a moment to relax. Opening their eyes again they looked Kizaru in the eyes and spoke.

"I am Y/N. I work for Big Top Morgan, and I need your photo." They said with confidence, determination gleaming across their eyes, "Please and thank you."

Kizaru stared at them, the eye contact almost broke their will and made them want to run away but they stood their ground. The eye contact was broken by him, looking up with a quiet "ooh".

"Sure, I don't see a problem with that." He said, looking back down to them and smiling. What a carefree guy.

Y/N was prepared for rejection, as most Marines did, so to hear him say yes shocked them. While Marines lived the publicity, it was only when it was good. Someone from Morgan's team asking for a personal picture usually meant drama and lies, thus leading to most overthinking it and refusing. Sometimes they became aggressive and threatened them.

"Huh?" They mirrored confusion. Before he could ask what was wrong they shook their head and looked at him again. "Will you lean down for me! I can't get a good picture from down here."

It was a reasonable request, and he complied. Slowly he leaned down, bending his knees so he was crouching and was almost the same height as them, still taller by a few inches.

"Thank you!" Y/N smiled, raising the camera wrapped around their neck and adjusting it.

They took a few steps back, leaned from one side to another and snapped a few photos, even getting on their tip toes for a few. Morgan was going to love these. Oh, the praise they'd get from their coworkers and Morgan.

"Thank you very much! I appreciate your time!!" They said, setting the camera down and bowing slightly to show their appreciation and respect.

"Hm, it's no problem," Kizaru said, standing back to full height and rubbing his neck. "I don't usually accept these offers but you peaked my interest. I look forward to seeing them, whatever they'll be used for."

His comment made them flustered, damn then being unable to take compliments well. With a stutter of another 'thank you!', they turned around and walked away as quickly, yet normally, as possible.

Borsalino watched as they disappeared into the crowd with a smile before turning back around and off to the docks where his ship sat. Sure, his underlings would most likely scold him for being late but he didn't care.

[liknws]

marry me [ksm]

⎯⎯ PAIRING: kim seungmin x reader/oc ⎯⎯ TAGS: angst, hurt no comfort ⎯⎯ RATING: 18+, mature ⎯⎯ WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol & drinking ⎯⎯ WORD COUNT: 2k (2,354)

⎯⎯ NOTES: i recommend listening to the song 'marry me' by thomas rhett while reading. this is from seungmin's point of view but still uses second person mentions of reader. gender isn't really mentioned but one small line of husbnd and wife is used.

she wants to get married, she wants it perfect she wants her granddaddy preachin' the service

You're sixteen and tipsy on a wine cooler you stole from your father's fridge the first time you tell Seungmin you want to get married. He laughs at you, saying the idea of marriage is stupid and a piece of paper and some stupid words won't change if a relationship is meant to be.

You're seventeen and suffering your first heartbreak when he tells you that guy would never had made you happy. He holds you close and promises you'll find the love you deserve one day when your heart is ready for it. He's sorry that you have to hurt like this first to know what real love will feel like.

It's the night before your eighteenth birthday when you tell him again how you want to get married. You want a big family, a happy life, and a house so full of love it's bursting at the seams. He almost tells you that he wants to give that to you, he'll carve out a life for both of you right this second if you'd let him. Instead he holds your hand as the clock hits midnight and wishes you a happy birthday.

It's six months later that you're packing up for university together, excited about this new chapter. Maybe your heart is ready for real love, adult love, eternal love. The love your parents had, the love your grandfather tells stories about. The kind of love that writes vows like novels and makes the love songs sound like scripture.

yeah, she wants magnolias out in the country not too many people, save her daddy some money

Maybe it's fate that it happens, that one day you both are out drinking after a horrible semester of classes when you stumble past the new wedding boutique. In the window is a gown that seems to have been made for you. He can picture you in it perfectly, the cream colored dress a perfect contrast to your skin and the brightness of your eyes. It's when he sees the train that he knows it'll be your dress.

The flowers are crafted into the hand-sewn lace with perfection. Magnolia flowers. You somehow convince the little shop owner to let you try it on. The fit is perfect without a single stitch to be made. You're heartbroken when you learn of the price. He buys it for you the next day and keeps it hidden until he's ready to tell you everything.

ooh, she got it all planned out yeah, i can see it all right now

Flowers everywhere, every surface that can manage will have flowers. The ribbons and sparkles will be understated, only meant to bring color and brightness. The flowers will be the main star of the show there. He knows exactly what it will look like, you've planned this day since high school and the ideas have barely shifted. You don't want flowers thrown down for you to walk on, you want twinkling fairy lights.

He knows that Minho will be in charge of catering the reception after, a change that was more recent as you came to know and adore him. You'll argue that is your wedding gift from Minho to you and your to-be husband. Everywhere will be reminders and tokens of your relationship with your lover, pictures hanging from the ceiling with the same twinkling lights illuminating the memories.

Felix will try to steal you for every dance he can. You'll cry during your father daughter dance, you'll cry more during the speeches. Your husband will hold you through all of it and it'll make sense why every place setting came with a small travel size package of tissues. You'll use up your own within the first hour, unable to keep from crying.

i remember the night when i almost kissed her yeah, i kinda freaked out, we've been friends for forever and i'd always wonder if she felt the same way

It's a party like any other, you and him arriving together and promising to leave together. You're spending the night at his place after this, the same agreement you always have after parties. His bed is a safe place so you're not scared of relaxing and letting loose. He won't let anything bad happen to you.

You've had almost too much to drink, surpassing your limit a while ago. He knows it's because of your breakup, because being dumped hurts you so much and makes you feel like the shittiest version of yourself. You believe that love is unconditional and that often gets you hurt.

He's got his arms around your waist, your back to his chest, swaying to whatever song is in your head. You complained it was cold outside, he had grumbled it was too hot inside and he would rather be out here with his friends. The compromise with you two is almost always like this. He wonders if you do this on purpose, just for this outcome.

You've turned your head to talk to him. He leans down to be able to hear you because even outside the music is too loud and the people are too close. He hugs you tighter to himself, worried you'll float away if he lets go. The boys give him a knowing look, he pretends to ignore them.

Your lips are right there, brushing against his cheek while you speak into his ear. You want to go home, you're tired and cold and something about wanting him all to yourself. He doesn't read into that, you've always been a little bit on the bolder side when drinking. He never holds what you say or do when drunk against you, even if he wishes he could.

He turns his head to say something but you haven't moved back. It's so close, he'd be a fool not to see the way you look at his lips and then back to his eyes. He does the same. He swears you lean in closer, he knows he does. But he's a coward when it comes to you and instead, he presses his lips to your forehead and says it's time to go home.

when i got the invite, i knew it was too late and i know her daddy's been dreadin' this day oh, but he don't know he ain't the only one givin' her away

He was the first one to know you were serious about this guy. He was the first one you told about moving in with him. He was there the day he got down on one knee and asked you the question that Seungmin has always wanted to ask. He even helped your soon-to-be-fiancé pick out the perfect ring. No one knows you better than him, so it was an obvious choice to ask for his help.

He picked out his own ring that day, something far less flashy and obvious. He carries it in his pocket all the time, thumb brushing over the soft velvet bag whenever he's nervous. Never a box, that was too obvious and too hard to keep hidden from you. If he couldn't keep the ring in the bag then it was around his neck where it would be safe always. Eventually he just kept it there, guessing it was easier. He doesn't admit that it's because the understated diamond ring sits next to his heart when he does.

Before all of that, he was there when your boyfriend asked for permission to marry you. The man had asked him, of all people, for the privilege to marry you. Your dad was quick to give his blessing, only wanting his daughter to be happy. Seungmin had forced a smile and clapped the man on the back. Teases him like any other time and jokes that he doesn't need permission because you love him.

i'll wear my black suit, black tie, hide out in the back i'll do a strong shot of whiskey straight out the flask i'll try to make it through without cryin' so nobody sees

Your picture perfect wedding was always going to have your best friend right next to you on that day, his silent and warm support keeping you on your feet. He would be there to encourage you and hold your hand if you needed. He would be there to hand you tissues he always had on him because he was tired of his shirt getting snot on it. He'd tease you with silent looks, making it hard to hold back your laughter if you were to catch his eye.

He pictures it differently now, at a distance rather than up close. On the outside looking in. The hole he leaves will be filled in, the space shaped for him will eventually mold to fit someone better.

yeah, she wanna get married but she don't wanna marry me

He watched you that night, when your boyfriend was down on one knee and holding out that very ring. He touches the one around his neck, hand dropping to his side when you look around at those watching. It's Christmas so everyone is here. All your shared friends, your family, your boyfriend's family even made it in for the surprise. A glutton for his own punishment, he'd help keep you out of the house just long enough for your future in-laws to arrive and get settled.

The proposal was beautiful. He was the right amount of nervous and elated, cheeks pink and ears burning. Down on one knee, he could only look at you and you could only look for Seungmin. With the smallest of nods, encouraging you to go for it, you finally gave the most anticipated answer. Everyone cheered but Seungmin wiped at the tears on his cheeks. Right then he knows you're going to make a beautiful bride.

bet she got on her dress now, welcomin' the guests now i could try to find her, get it off of my chest now but i ain't gonna mess it up, so i'll wish her the best now

He doesn't need to be there to know you're beautiful. No matter what you decided to wear, what colors you picked or what flowers you might be holding walking down the aisle. He knows you'll have that glow about you, the kind of shine that makes you brighter than the sun and more beautiful than any constellation in the sky.

He received the invitation months before the date, put it on the fridge at eye level so every day he could be reminded of it. A taunt to himself as he stared at the embossed page. Little magnolia flowers hidden in the cream paper.

He wonders who picked the date, if it means anything important to you both or if it was something that just worked out that way. It's a beautiful day out, the sun burned away the Spring's morning fog and the dew drops have left the greenery looking clean and sparkling.

You're wearing the dress, the perfect dress. He doesn't answer your questions about it. He didn't even give it to you in person, instead handing it off to your aunt in order for her to give it to you. It's stupid of him to assume you won't remember that night all that time ago. You never confronted him about the gift but he's happy to see that you're wearing your perfect dress on your perfect day.

so i'm in my black suit, black tie, hidin' out in the back doing a strong shot of whiskey straight out the flask i'll try to make it through without cryin' so nobody sees

He can't help but think that maybe he's dressed for a funeral. Laying to rest the love he has for you. Saying goodbye to his friendship with you, only he's the only attendee. He never can, he never will, but he'll try. He's the last to arrive, slipping into the back of the small crowd just before the vows start. He can't help but notice you're missing someone on your side, the numbers uneven.

Right, you always joked he would be your Man of Honor. Why didn't you have a cousin stand it or one of your other friends? He feels guilt that you'll have this gap there in your memories because of him.

yeah, she gonna get married but she ain't gonna marry me

There's no crunch of leaves or snapping of a twig that gives away his premature departure. There's no signal or sign or dramatic reveal that your best friend did show up, that he silently wished you all the happiness he could never provide, that he came to say his goodbyes.

His get away car is ready for him, Hyunjin waiting patiently for his friend to do what he needed and drive away. His bags are in the back, his one-way plane ticket to the other side of the world is freshly printed and tucked into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. Jeongin already has the keys to the apartment for him to move into over the weekend. He sold his car yesterday to pay for the ticket and his phone has been disconnected as of this morning.

At the end of the dusty dirt road, where the magnolia trees and the songbirds provide the perfect backdrop, he leaves his heart with you.

"Are you sure about this?"

It takes him a long time to answer. Hyunjin is patient, waiting for the final decision from his friend. Seungmin sits in silence, watching the road as if he's waiting for you to come running at him, like you even knew he was there.

You'll be happy with Chan, he'll give you everything Seungmin was always too afraid of. By the time his plane is in the air you'll have sealed your vows with a kiss and having your first dance as husband and wife. Soon the heartbreak of knowing he wasn't there will ease and you'll be okay.

"No- but I have a flight to catch."

⎯⎯ END NOTES: so this was meant to be a fic for @astraystayyh but i totally went the other direction with the fic idea that sahar shared because i just thrive on making other people cry i guess???? anyway i hope you enjoyed the fic and maybe i'll make the other version soon! and maybe if someone wants a different ending or part two or something i may be convinced to write it.

taglist:

@borahae-reads, @bettybeako, @katsukis1wife, @justletmehavethenamemarsomfg, @ylixbok, @eternitywaveshello, @pinkskzs

[ender1821]

(back on my shiny duo brainrotting time, featuring Secret Life 9AM Pearl!)

— — —

It was a beautiful day out. Autumn had arrived in its wonderful grace, bringing nice but not too breezy afternoons and picturesque views of the forests that stretched beyond the world’s borders. The scenery was simply too breathtaking to not—

“What are you doing?”

Pearl perks up from the sketch pad she had on her lap, discovering that Gem had approached her.

“Just a lil’ doodling.” Pearl answers, using the pencil in her hand to point to her work-in-progress.

Gem quirks an eyebrow up at the reply, trying to have a glance at the picture before questioning her friend more. “Really? Right here?”

Pearl looks around. Well, she couldn’t really see what’s wrong with having a break in front of her mound, unless Gem was referring to the whole…game situation. In that case, she supposes it’s a fair query.

“Inspiration waits for no man, GeminiTay!” Pearl puffs out her chest, as though her declaration was meant for more than just Gem, but for the whole world.

Unfazed by Pearl’s theatrics, Gem sighs, “I knew I should’ve stopped Jimmy from calling you Shakespeare.”

With that, any attempt Pearl made at refocusing on her drawing were thrown out the window, and she took Gem’s words as a challenge.

“Why, doth thee not hold the same enthusiasm for the arts as I?” Pearl set aside her pencil, then mimicked holding a skull in her palm, preparing to monologue to thin air if Gem doesn’t stop her.

“Weirdo.” Gem giggles at the grand gestures Pearl made.

“Oh, you love it.” Pearl waves off the remark without a thought. It never gets old, and Pearl’s sure that Gem must’ve called her that a hundred times by now.

Just as Pearl expected, Gem lets out another fond sigh before taking a seat next to Pearl. Out of the corner of her eye, Pearl catches Gem trying to hide a smile.

Pearl returns to working on her sketch soon after, pausing for a second when she feels a weight press onto her shoulder. Gem was leaning on her to get a better view of the sketch pad, and as she shuffled closer, the unmistakable scent of pumpkins and flowers wafted into the air. Pearl makes a mental note to add more orange shades to the final picture.

The sketch at the moment is of the fields of sunflowers scattered around the grass fields of where the Mounders chose to set up camp at. Nothing too out of the ordinary, which is exactly what Pearl needs after days of chaos, all in the hopes of completing secret tasks.

“It looks pretty.” Gem breathes out after a brief lapse of silence between the two.

“Aw, thank you!” Pearl cranes her neck slightly to look at Gem. It doesn’t take long before she snorts and captures Gem’s attention, wondering what Pearl found worthy of laughing at.

Pearl points to the sunflowers. “They match your eyes.”

Gem pushes herself off of Pearl with an offended scrunch of her eyebrows. Her hand hovers dangerously close to the diamond sword she kept sheathed beside her waist. “Remind me again, can yellows kill greens? Because I’m really tempted to right now.”

There’s an amused flicker in Pearl’s face, and she clutches her chest with a horribly faked expression of terror. “Ooh no, am I being threatened by the great GeminiSlay?”

“Dork.” Gem huffs and rolls her eyes, moving to rest her arms on the ground below instead.

Pearl replies with a toothy grin.