#tolerate it is one of her best songs

[gloriousmonsters]

I’m still just Yearning for like, a catchy taylor swift song again, but thank god evermore is 2/3 good

[jin0]

That One Night with Spiderman [TASM!Peter Parker]

Summary : Spiderman slept with a random girl he just met. There's a new vigilante/superhero in town. Do the math.

Pairing : TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Warning : Minors DNI, 18+ ONLY, smut, p in v, a lot of heavy flirting and sexual tension, semi public sex, kinda fluffy sometimes if you squint

A/N : i have found my horny self again in the tasm movies 🙈 andrew garfield owns me and my reproductive organs !!!

again, all mistakes are mine !! don't forget to tell me what you thought about it !!

also i might start putting song selections that could help getting the general feel of the fic ?? tell me what you think of it !!

Opening his eyes, Peter recognized the ceiling of his apartment. He felt heavy and had an absolute vicious headache but he had just woken up from the best sleep he had in a while. Groaning and wrapping himself in the heat of his bedsheets, he smiled sleepily at the source of warmth clinging to his body. Suddenly, realization hit him like a truck : why the fuck was there a random person in his bed ?

Turning around slowly, he recognized the face of a sleeping woman. He couldn’t help but inspect it slowly. She was fucking beautiful, breathtaking even. Sleeping peacefully in his bed, like she was meant to be here, as if she had been sleeping here for years.

He could see the very distinct shape of her naked body, wrapped in his covers. The curve of your legs, one crossed over the other and forming a smooth line from your exposed feet to your shoulder. His eyes scanned over the bump of your hips, the slight swell of your breasts through the fabric had his cheeks turn red.

He smiled softly before shaking his head, it wasn’t the moment to be daydreaming. He looked around and noticed the clothes on the floor, he could see his own and others, probably yours. On top of that, he recognized a bra and panties laying on the floor. Fuck.

He slept with her ?! How ? He knew how, obviously he knew how, hell his memory was coming back and the how was very vivid in his mind. Your moans and the feeling of your body around him had him blushing deeper and adverting his eyes from you. Seeing you laid like that in his bed wasn’t helping the reaction he was having right now. He took a pillow to cover his growing erection and tried to figure out who you were.

He remembered the party he had decided to go to. Going to college meant a lot of those and while he avoided them regularly, he thought now would be a good time to start having fun. The break-up with Gwen, who was in London, had hit him hard and he just wanted to get better and move on. She was and he should to, that was the right thing to do. Now in the process of doing so, he had decided to get drunk, forgetting that the spider bite changed his alcohol tolerance. He couldn’t really get drunk that easily now and the drinks weren’t that good either so he decided on retreating to one of the bathrooms for a while before leaving.

He remembered now, you had hidden there with him. You wanted to catch a breath too, for the same reasons as him so you entered the bathroom and when you noticed him he invited you to sit in the bathtub with him. You both started talking pretty quickly and he didn’t know how or why but that had been enough to make him feel dizzy, you presence was intoxicating. He had been the one to initiate the first contact, pulling you closer to him by the ankles as you sat in front of him. Playing along, you had sat on your knees and started playing with his hair.

He remembered staring at your smile and then just your lips. They looked so pretty, plump and probably so sweet too. He didn’t want to spook you so he had simply grabbed your waist to pull you a little closer. You kept playing along, wrapping your arms around his neck and then running your fingers in his hair.

He was the one to practically throw himself on you, kissing you desperately. He was right, you tasted so sweet, like candy. Tightening his hold around your waist and lowering it to your hips, he took the opportunity you gave him when you took a long breath, to shove his tongue in your mouth and swallow your moans. Molding his lips around yours, the kiss made his brain fuzzy. It was all tongue, moans and grunts, you both grinding against the other like horny teenagers.

As you both got closer to a point of begging the other to touch you further, you decided that leaving the party was better. He didn’t even remember how you had finished at his apartment, all he knew was that once he got you inside his place, he pinned you to the wall, wrapped your legs around his waist and fucked you in the doorway. He had never been this desperate for someone before, he had you a second time in his bed and maybe he blacked out after but could you blame him ? You had been bouncing on his lap and he couldn’t help but beg uncontrollably.

“Pete ?”

He thought he had reached peak embarrassment last night but clearly not, not with the absolutely disgusting scream he let out as he fell backwards, off his bed. He regained his capacities fast, looking over the mattress and seeing you all dressed and ready to leave. He couldn’t help but feel slightly sad that you were leaving but that was the principle of having a one night stand.

You looked beautiful asleep but absolutely smoking awake. He was pretty sure he wasn’t breathing at all right now and that was okay, maybe, not. He still needed to breath to live and also to not look weird. Taken out of his daydreaming, he heard you chuckle while you gathered your shoes in your hand and your phone in the other.

“You look really cute in the morning Parker, but don’t let anyone catch you by surprise that easily. A spider who wants to survive has to do the surprising first.” You smirked before taking a leap out of the window.

He had been so focused on your face so close to his that he hadn’t paid attention to what you had been saying. When he fully registered your words, he rushed to his window looking for you but you were gone. He started reviewing the entire night, searching through his mind for signs and answers as to how the fuck did you know who he was. Looking around the room, he found his phone. He didn’t know how the battery wasn’t dead but that wasn’t the moment to think about that.

Checking his recent texts he found a new one from an unknown number. He chuckled nervously, sinking to the floor.

From : unknown

To : me

twas nice to meet you spidey ;) hopefully you’ll get to meet me for real soon.

~

For the rest of the day he wondered what you meant and how you knew about him. You had been so mysterious in the text and spamming you wasn’t working with him so for the next hours he tried to focus on his lectures while internationally squeezing his brain to try and remember how or why you knew his secret identity.

As the day progressed, night had gotten closer and he had returned to his place, laying anxiously in his bed. He had been fidgeting like crazy, thinking about whether or not he should talk to you or not. He wanted to, needing to fix the situation before it became worse (if it could get worse than this honestly). If you knew his identity, a girl he didn’t know at all but had slept with, his life and the people around him could be in danger.

He thought about everything he had said and started hitting himself on the head for not remembering fully. He couldn’t get drunk but he clearly had felt the after effects of drunkenness and it all started from the moment he kissed you, or maybe before. Honestly he still couldn’t remember.

Yeah, you two had instantly clicked and it made sense that he would trust you to a certain degree, you had seen him naked after all. Now, he didn’t know or trust you enough to reveal his secret to you like that ! He knew that, he wasn’t stupid. He was new to relationships but not completely fucking dumb, so how did you know about him ? Yeah, maybe he was stupid.

He couldn’t degrade himself longer, his radio going off, signaling a car chase and a robbery. Spidey was needed.

Swinging through the streets of Queens, he looked around, weighting the gravity of the situation and looking through the amount of people on the street. As he passed in front of various windows, he quickly felt a presence near, following his in the same direction. Turning his head, he saw a figure leap over roofs and run towards the location of the robbers. When he landed, he looked towards the person in disbelief. Who the fuck was that ? What the fuck was going on ?!

The crowd, just as surprised as he was, quickly turned entirely towards the buzzing woman in white. She looked like she had been taken straight out of the Antiquity, from the Pantheon itself. Hell she even had a cape. The must’ve been so unpractical.

Getting off the car you had been perched on, he watched you float closer to the car that was probably about to speed towards you to run you over. He wasn’t paying much attention though, he was too focused on the fact that people could fucking fly ?! What was that ?! Did they get bitten too ? By some flying creature ? Maybe a pigeon or a falcon, she looked more like the falcon kind. Or even an eagle, yeah an eagle felt right.

No ! Now wasn’t the time to figure out what kind of bird she fucking was ! He had a bunch of robbers to take care of. Or so he thought. Focusing back on the situation, he heard the loud cheers of the crowd and if he had his mask off she would see how surprised he looked. A giant lighting spear piercing the hood of the car and keeping it in place as the men who were in it were all tied together on the floor by what seemed to be electric ropes.

Passing them to the authorities, he watched her start to float away but not before whispering something that even with his hearing, he shouldn’t have been able to hear but did nonetheless because it was resonating in his literal head.

“Told you we would see each other again Bug Boy.”

Hearing the voice in his head, he froze on the spot. It wasn’t human but his hearing worked differently, enough for him to recognize the one behind it. You, the girl from the morning who had been running through his mind the whole day ! Now he understood clearly what you meant, you were a vigilante too. Or maybe closer to a superhero seeing how you were dressed.

He watched you float away and finally felt like he could move and move completely. He leaped and ran after you, swinging around buildings again trying to web you by the feet to pull you towards him. You were flying pretty fast and even if that did fascinate him, he couldn’t help but be a little annoyed at the power.

He was loosing patience so simply went for it, shooting a web in your direction and watching it wrap around your ankle, he pulled you towards his chest and fell on a rooftop. He didn’t expect you to turn around and kick him in the chest again. Rolling backwards and practically off the building, he caught his balance rapidly and ran to you in hopes of figuring out what the fuck was going on.

“Fuck, what shoes do you have that hurt like that and why does it feel like an elephant kicked me in the chest ?” He groaned, rolling on the floor in pain.

He heard you chuckle as you got closer to him and extended your arm in his direction. Grabbing your hand, you pulled you towards him and flipped both your positions to pin you to the floor.

“Last time I had you in this position, we ended up in my bed.” He grinned through the mask.

He softened his hold around your wrists when he saw you smile softly at him, rookie mistake. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pushed your weight on top of his to straddle him and keep him calm.

“Last time I had you in this position, you kept slamming my hips on your dick. Very hard. Made you feel good didn’t I, Pete ?” You chuckled, leaning over his face, inspecting his covered feature. Yeah, Peter was good looking, very good looking even. And you could testify that he was just as good in bed as in class.

Ripping his mask off of his face he huffed in annoyance more towards himself than you. His mind was going everywhere but in the right direction.

“What did you do to me at the party ?” Asked the young man, sitting up but keeping you on his lap. “I don’t get drunk, I can’t, but you show up and I suddenly feel all dizzy and I can’t remember shit from the night before ? And how do you know my secret identity ? Why are you here ? Are you following me ? And how do you know the college I go to ?! You were targeting me ?!” He rambled rapidly before being cut off by a kiss.

That was new, not so much in the sense that he never kissed you before but no one had ever tried to shut him up with a kiss. He liked it. A lot. Your lips, tender against his, pulled away but kept his face in your hands.

“God you talk so much when you’re panicking… Not gonna lie, it is kinda cute.” You smirked pecking his lips once more.

You chuckled when he groaned, clearly not pleased by the situation or at least trying to act angry. He wasn’t doing a very good job since his arm was wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him.

“I didn’t target you Peter, I didn’t even know you were Spiderman when I went into the bathroom. I figured it out while talking to you and confirmed it when I kissed you. Took a look into your brain, your thoughts.” You explained calmly, playing with his fingers.

He shouldn’t have been this comfortable at the thought of a random stranger looking into his brain but then again, you had slept together so that was a lot of barriers crossed already. Also you did look kinda cute right now, playing with his hand with a soft smile on your face. He felt compelled to caress your cheek and chuckled when you nuzzled against his palm.

“You wanna tell me about your origin story or I should just assume that you were bitten by some flying alien ?” He sassed, raising an eyebrow at you. You smiled, dropping your face on his shoulder before answering.

“I wasn’t bitten by an alien dingus… Just struck by lightning when I was like, I don’t know, three ? I was supposed to die but I didn’t, instead I got superpowers. Now it probably has to do with the fact that the lightning that struck me, I had kinda summoned it. Grandma’s a witch I guess, and I found one of her very powerful spells. So now, here I am.” You explained as if it was the most normal thing ever.

He couldn’t help but scoff at how normal this was for you. Guess this had been the life you had lived. He had his own new version of normal anyways so he wasn’t really in any position to judge. Even if witchcraft seemed a lot more complicated than radioactive science.

“Also, before you ask, now I didn’t sleep with you to figure out your identity. I don’t need to go that far. Hell, the kiss was already a lot if you don’t remember all your night. Reading someone’s mind this closely does play a little with their memories but give it a day or two and you’ll have it all back.” You said, scaring and reassuring him in the same sentence.

You stoop up from the floor and dusted of your suit then looked at him again, keeping that cute smile on your face. God, he wanted to kiss you again.

“Now to your last important question, I don’t know the college you go to. I just know the college I go to. I was told people were having a party to start off the semester and I thought that showing uo for once would be cool. Definitely don’t regret it. Had my first one night stand and all ? Finally leaving that fanfiction life I read about on internet.” You laughed lightly.

Getting up too, he got close to you but you backed away, holding you hand up in front of you to stop him.

“If you get any closer we’re not leaving this roof Spidey and I’m getting a little cold out here.”

“I could help with the cold. And on the way you could explain who you are a little more, you know ? To get to know each other. Or at least so that I learn a little more about you since you’ve been in my head. It’s only fair.” He says, tilting his head innocently to the side.

You raised your eyebrows, surprised by the slight change in demeanor. He looked very comfortable around you already. Again, you had crossed several stages in a relationship already, jumping straight to the sex part and the revealing your deepest secrets to the other. Might as well share your social security number while you were at it.

“Don’t worry about fairness pretty boy, you’ll get it another day. Today, you’ll have to forget it. Good try though.” You pulled him by the collar, kissing his lips one last time before flying away into the night.

Peter stayed still and silent, looking into the distance and watching your figure get further and further away from him. He debated on following you to your place but something in him told him he wouldn’t really be trying to get to know you by talking. Yeah, he wasn’t going to lie, he was pushing past the need to fuck you ok the rooftop but the rational part of him reminded him that he’d been knowing your for 48 hours maximum.

Putting his mask back on, he jumped off the roof and swung back to his place, he would get to meet you tomorrow, on campus.

~

He, in fact, did not meet you the next day on campus. Turns out the part of his memory containing your name gad been gone for another day so finding you had been tough and even when he did no one knew you. He thought you had lied to him about going to the same college as him but turns out you weren’t lying.

It took him an entire week to find you, seven business days technically so more, but he ended up finding you. In another department. You were in the law department, completely opposite of his. It had been a coincidence for him to hear your name while skateboarding around campus and one he did he practically jumped the two students who had been talking about you. They lead him towards the building in which you were having your last lecture if the day and he waited patiently outside.

When the doors opened, he saw you walk out, face down focused on your phone and headphones wrapped around your ears. He chuckled, you were making it too easy for him to sneak up on you right now, he couldn’t pass up on the opportunity. Walking big steps behind you, he couldn’t help but laugh when you yelped as a response to him lifting you by the waist and spinning you around to face him.

You looked at him with semi annoyance and surprise.

“What the actual fuck Parker ? Do you just sneak up on people like that on a regular ? Spider business, I suppose ?” You sassed, trying to escape his hold on your waist but giving up when he pulled you close to him

“Nah, I only sneak up on people it takes me a week to find.” He responds, putting emphasizes on the ‘week’ part.

You chuckled, making one smooth hand motion that pried his fingers off of you before skipping into the distance.

“I never said it would be easy bug boy, just that you would have another chance to get to know me another day.” You said, watching him try to grab ahold of you again.

“Yeah well, shouldn’t you be making this fair for me ? You have witchcraft and I have… Webs. That’s very fucking unbalanced if you ask me !”

“Then it’s a good thing I didn’t ask !”

You had stopped in your track to look at him and maybe give him a little chance to catch you. When he charged towards you, opening his arms to lock you in them, you ducked, avoiding his grasp. Then began a cat and mouse chase with Peter trying to catch you while you swiftly dodge every attempt. He had the agility of a spider but you were still winning, that must suck.

The both of you stopped moving, you putting a few meters between each other with a devious smile that had him weak in the knees.

“Twas good meeting you Pete.” You chuckled, walking backwards before spinning around and walking away.

Absolutely not. It took him a week to find you, you weren’t going to disappear again like that, nope. He checked his surroundings before exhaling in exasperation. Shooting a web in your direction, he forcefully pulled it back towards him, bringing you to his chest. He grabbed your wrists and pulled them behind you with one hand while keeping the other on your waist.

“You’re not going to run away that easily princess, I’ve got a few things to discuss with you first, so how ‘bout we do that hum ?” He suggested, voice deep and face way to fucking close to yours. You could see his eyes wander between your lips and your eyes. He was smiling, probably at his own lie, no discussion was going to happen now. Or maybe. You didn’t know.

~

Yeah, you skipped the discussion part.

Dragging you towards an abandoned building and into an abandoned room, you were both thinking about everything but that hypothetical discussion. You would have all the time in the world to do that later anyways but if things went the way they were going just now, you light never actually get to know each other. Oh, fuck it ! Who cares ? You would figure it out later.

For now, you were too busy making out in an empty room. Seating you on a desk, legs parted to have him as close to you as possible, you kept your arms wrapped around his neck. Your fingers were running through his hair, scratching his scalp delicately but pulling on his roots. You were practically molding around each other but he needed to feel you closer. Holding your waist tightly with one hand, he grabbed your thigh with the other and parted it further.

You lowered your hand to remove his jacket and let it drop to the floor. His tongue deep in your mouth, you felt dizzy as the heat you both shared kept increasing. Neither of you could understand what was the source of that chemistry you shared, the need to feel the other close, inside you. You met two weeks ago maximum but you felt dependent on the things he made you feel and so did he.

“F-Fuck… You taste so fucking good…” He groaned in your mouth. His hands roaming up and down your thighs, he was resisting the dress to pull down your panties and fuck you on that old table. He didn’t know how it was still holding but it wouldn’t stop him anyways.

He was drinking in the small whines you would let out against his lips, letting his tongue roam inside you and getting himself hard at the thought of where else it could go, the places he could taste. Fuck, he really needed you.

Pulling away from you to give you a few seconds to breath and to compose himself, he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled your face closer to his. He was trying to calm down but he couldn’t stop himself, his lips were pulled to yours and his bulge kept growing, grinding against your core. Yeah, maybe wearing a dress today had been a good idea on your part.

“You… You gotta tell me to stop… Fuck… Please tell me to stop before I fuck you against this table…” He begged, peppering passionate and sloppy kisses on your lips.

Your forehead against his, you could see the restraint on his face, even with his eyes closed he was trying to keep himself under control. That wasn’t what you wanted from him though. You parted your legs even further, smiling at the desperate breath he let out when you rubbed yourself against him. You trapped him between your thighs and ran your hands under his shirt. Whao, skater boy really was surprising all around, tight abs flexing under your fingers. Swinging around the city probably did work a few muscles.

“Please… Please Peter… Don’t ask me to do something I really don’t wanna do…” You begged, trying to make him cave.

It clearly didn’t take a lot of work, the boy bowing his head and dropping it on your shoulder, defeated. He had tried, so hard to think this through, with his brain and not his dick but how could he win when you were begging for him ? That intimacy he craved from you, you were craving it too and he couldn’t just not give it to you right ? He was doing a good thing and if it was for you, he would do it a hundred times more.

Finally giving in, he raised your thighs slightly and pushed your panties to the side, watching you dripping pussy clench around air. He made you this desperate for him ? He did that ? Well now there was no way he was going to simply not help you. He was getting to know you better that way, getting to know you from the inside. Deep inside.

Opening his pants and pushing his boxers down, he let his cock spring free and god, the yelp you let out when you saw him fully had him throbbing harder than ever before. You were so desperate, needy for him, just like he was for you. Taking hold of his length his started stroking himself slowly before accelerating. He felt his cheeks heat up, feeling your attentive eyes on him. You were being so difficult to resist right now, he felt dizzy just at the thought of being in you.

Suddenly, he stopped his movements, remembering a very crucial part.

“Fuck… I-I don’t have condoms…” He cursed internally, he wished he was like those guys constantly prepared for anything.

He inhaled sharply, throwing his head back when you took hold of his dick and guided it towards your entrance. Rubbing your soaking folds against his girth, you smiled as you kissed his cheek and his entire face repeatedly. How could he feel both fuzzy, like he was seating on the comfiest cloud, and like he was fist fighting some honey beast inside ? The duality you cause in him gave him whiplash.

“I’m on birth control Peter… And the superpowers are an incredible protection against diseases. You should try it out one day…” You chuckled as the last rational thought in your mind escaped your head.

You watched him open his eyes, dark and full of lust before he positioned himself and penetrated you in one single thrust. Both of you moaned in sync, oxygen suddenly stuck in your lungs. You didn’t remember entirely everything from the first night you shared with and god you were happy about it. Because reliving the absolute incredible feeling that having him this deep in you felt was definitely worth it. Taking so much space in you, you felt completely full. And he wasn’t feeling much different from you. You were holding his cock so tightly in you, pulsating walls keeping him warm and nice.

“I’m so sorry… I’ll make it up to you… I’ll make it up to you later, I promise… But right now I gotta fuck you… Or I’m gonna lose it...” Hand holding your nape again and lips pecking yours tenderly.

He dropped his face in your neck and started kissing your shoulder, letting the strap of your dress drop as he caressed your arm. His hips started moving vigorously, pumping his cock in and out of you as your moans filled the room.

“F-Fuck… Peter, God, you feel so fucking good…” You moaned into his hair.

His nose was running up the side lf your neck as he bit and sucked on your skin. He internally reminded himself that he had met you a few days ago but was already marking you like you were his. This was crazy, he loved it.

Hips moving faster and faster each passing second, you started moving with his, meeting his thrusts and leaning on you’re your as pleasure took over in your brain. You were breathing heavily, giggling slightly when his lips kissed sensitive points of your skin. He was reaching every good place, in and out of you. His thick length was parting your walls mercilessly, the tip of his cock driving roughly against your cervix and hitting the perfect point in you.

Soon, your moans turned into wails of pleasure and he couldn’t help but go even harder on you.

“Fuck… You sound so good… You like when I hit this place huh ?” He teased, chuckling when you nodded your head vividly like a bobblehead.

“God princess, you holdin’ me so tight… Promise you I’m not going anywhere til you’re done…” He reassured. You kept nodding, probably not really paying any attention to what he was saying, when you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer to your chest.

You felt your orgasm get closer and closer at each thrust and before you knew it, your eyes were rolling to the back of your head.

“P-Peter… Fuck Peter please ! Don’t… Don’t stop, God please, don’t !” You wailed, reaching down to play with your clit.

He watched in admiration as you pleasured yourself even more, right in front of his eyes. He pulled you by the waist and lost control of his thoughts as your pussy tightening around him. You came hard, crying out him name so loud that he felt like he would need to web your lips shut. Your juices drenched your panties further and coated his girth generously.

Feeling his own end get closer, he pulled out and came all over your exposed stomach. He didn’t even remember your dress hiking up that high but who cared honestly ? Not him.

Panting loudly, you both rested your eyes for a few seconds while trying to compose yourselves. You stayed still for a good few minutes before you suddenly started giggling which pushed him to giggle against your neck too.

“God, Pete ! Slept with you twice in less than fifteen days, maybe after the third we could make this a ritual thing between the two of us.” You chuckled, looking into his brown eyes

“Yeah I’m pretty sure people call that being friends with benefits.” He responded sarcastically. Taking a deep breath, he took your chin in his fingers and observed you in silence before smiling and kissing you on the forehead. He gave you two other sweet kissed on the nose and one last on the lips. Soon the innocent kiss turned into a heated one. As you opened your mouth to let his tongue in, he pulled away. Holding your chin, he slipped his thumb in your mouth and slightly regretted the idea when you started looking at him with these horrible doe eyes of yours. You were pushing him again, he wasn’t stupid and he was folding, fast.

It took him everything to shake his head as a sign of refusal.

“How about… Instead of this... with you, next time… I start by taking you out on a date ? To actually get to know you better, and not just the places that make you feel good.” He offers, a soft grin in his face.

Who would’ve expected Spiderman to be this smooth right ? And how could you say no ?

[tolerateit]

oh you like taylor swift? name every TS song

okay.

10 Dollars and a 6 Pack, 22, Afterglow, August, Angelina, American boy, Am I Ready For Love?, All You Had to Do Was Stay, All Too Well, All Night Diner, Acting Like A Boy, A Place in This World, A Perfectly Good Heart, Babe, Back To December, Bad Blood, Both Of Us, Beautiful Eyes, Beautiful Ghosts, Begin Again, Being with My Baby, Better Man, Better Off, Better Than Revenge, Betty, Birch, Blank Space, Bother Me, Brand New World, Breathe, Brought Up That Way, By The Way, Bye Bye Baby, Call It What You Want, Can I Go With You?, cardigan, Castles Crumbling, champagne problems, Change, Check Out This View, Christmas Tree Farm, Christmases When You Were Mine, Clean, Closest to a Cowboy, closure, Cold as You, Come Back... Be Here, Come in with the Rain, coney island, Cornelia Street, cowboy like me, Crazier, Cross My Heart, Cruel Summer, Dancing With Our Hands Tied, Dark Blue Tennessee, Daylight, Dear Digdan, Dear John, Death by a Thousand Cuts, Delicate, Didn't They, Don't Blame Me, Don't Hate Me For Loving You, Don't You, Dorothea, Down Came The Rain, Drama Queen, Dress, Enchanted, Endgame, Epiphany, Everything Has Changed, Exile, Evermore, Eyes Open, False God, Fall Into Me, Forever and Always, Fearless, Fifteen, Firefly, For You, Foolish One, Forever Winter, Gasoline, Getaway Car, Gorgeous, Gold Rush, Girl at Home, Gracie, happiness, Haunted, Her, Hey Stephen, His Lies, hoax, Holy Ground, Honey Baby, How You Get The Girl, I Almost Do, I Bet You Think About Me, I Can See You, I Forgot That You Existed, I Heart ?, I Knew You Were Trouble, I Know What I Want (It Ain’t You), I Know Places, illicit affairs, I Think He Knows, I Used to Fly, I Wish You Would, I Wished on a Plane, If This Was a Movie, I'd Lie, I'm Looking Out For You, I'm Only Me When I'm With You, Innocent, Invisible, invisible string, It's Nice to Have a Friend, it's time to go, ivy, Jump Then Fall, Just a Dream, King Of My Heart, Last Kiss, Let's Go, Live for the Little Things, London Boy, Long Live, long story short, Long Time Going, Look At You Like That, Look What You Made Me Do, Lover, Love Story, Love They Haven't Thought of Yet, Love to Lose, Lucky You, mad woman, Made Up You, Making Up for Lost Love, marjorie, Mary's Song (Oh My My My), ME!, Me and Britney, Message In A Bottle, Mine, mirrorball, Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince, Mr. Perfectly Fine, My Cure, Monologue Song (la la la), My Songs Know What You Did In the Dark, my tears ricochet, My Turn to Be Me, Need You Now, Never Fade, Never Grow Up, Nevermind, New Romantics, New Year's Day, no body, no crime, Nothing New, Not One Day, Only The Young, Ours, Our Song, Out Of The Woods, Paper Rings, peace, Perfect Have I Loved, Permanent Marker, Picture to Burn, Picture to Burn, Point of View, Rain Song, Red, right where you left me, R-E-V-E-N-G-E, Ronan, Run, Renegade, Sad Beautiful Tragic, Safe & Sound, Same Girl, seven, Shake It Off, Should've Said No, Smokey Black Nights, Someone Just Told Me, Someone Loves You , Soon You'll Get Better, Sparks Fly, Speak Now, Spinning Around, Starlight, State Of Grace, Stay Beautiful, Stay Stay Stay, Stupid Boy, Style, Sugar, Superman, Superstar, Sweet Tea And God's Graces, Sweeter Than Fiction, Teardrops on My Guitar, Tell Me Why, Tennessee, That's When, the 1, The Archer, The Best Day, the lakes, the last great american dynasty, The Last Time, The Lucky One, The Man, The Moment I Knew, The Other Side of the Door, The Outside, The Story of Us, The Way I Loved You, Thinking 'Bout You, Thirteen Blocks (Can't Call It Love), This Here Guitar, this is me trying, This Is What You Came For, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, This Love, This One's Different, Tied Together With a Smile, 'Til Brad Pitt Comes Along, Tim McGraw, 'tis the damn season, Today Was a Fairytale, Tolerate It, Too Beautiful, Treacherous, Under My Head, Untouchable, We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together, Welcome To New York, We Were Happy, What to Wear, White Horse, Willow, Wildest Dreams, Wonderland, Writing Songs About You, You All Over Me, You Are In Love, You Belong with Me, You Do, You

Need to Calm Down, You're Anything, You're Not Sorry, Lavender Haze, Maroon, Anti-hero, Snow on The Beach, You're on Your Own Kid, Midnight Rain, Question...?, Vigilante Shit, Bejeweled, Karma, Labyrinth, Sweet Nothing, Mastermind, Bigger Than The Whole Sky, The Great War, Paris, Glitch, Would've Could've Should've, Dear Reader, High Infidelity, Hits Different

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Roommate Challenge Fic Masterlist

Hey everyone! I want to start by saying thank you so much to everyone who participated - it was so much fun to write alongside you all, and I can’t wait to share everyone’s hard work.

So without further ado, here are the entries for the Roommates Challenge!

NSFW Spencer Reid 

Lavender Laundry by @/imagining-in-the-margins: Spencer realizes that his roommate left a piece of her laundry behind in the dryer.

Eyes Wide Shut by @ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff : AFAB!Reader. An agreement between roommates leads to delightful surprises at all hours. 

I Don’t Want to Set the World on Fire by @gettingrailedbyreid : There is a fire in Reader’s apartment, Reid kindly offers to let her stay with him. Only problem is that they have a crush on each other. 

I Should’ve Worshipped You Sooner by @gettingrailedbyreid: Spencer overhears his roommate confess her true feelings for him.

Multiply by @ofwilliamandwalter: Reader loves parties. Spencer hates them with a passion. Somehow or another, this difference leads to… a very odd love confession and some math jokes?

Best Night, Worst Fight by @writer-in-theory: When Spencer and Reader broke up, they were sure staying roommates was a good idea. That was, until Reader starts bringing partners home.

Mutual Exchange by @sinfulspencer : Spencer hears his roommate Reader having a self-love session.

Summer in the City by @foxy-eva: Having a roommate who decided it was too hot to wear clothes suddenly made the heatwave much more tolerable for Spencer.

SFW Spencer Reid 

Better As Your Man Than As a Memory by @fortheloveofwonderland: When Reader makes the decision to catapult into single parenthood, the only person who understands is your best friend and fellow single parent, Spencer Reid. 

You Could Be the One by @andiebeaword: Reader and Spencer have been best friends and platonic roommates for years. Reader develops romantic feelings as well as a desire to only communicate with post-it notes on their dry erase board.

These Are the Words I Held Back (As I Was Leaving Too Soon) by leahseclipse [AO3]: As Spencer Reid sets foot in quite an unknown place, such as Welton, a Catholic preparatory school, what will happen to his life? Will he happen to meet someone that might change it?

A Heartbreak in Mid-December by @reidsbookclub: Spencer and Reader are apartment roommates (song fic based on "December" by Neck Deep). 

Paper Thin Hearts by @reidsacademia: Falling in love with your best friend couldn’t be more inconvenient, especially if they also happen to be your roommate. 

The Sweetest Relief Imaginable by @safespacespencer: Being best friends and roommates brought its own challenges. Reader can’t help but be in love with him, so when they finally feel his touch, can they suppress their feelings any longer?

Best. Present. Ever. by @spencersprentiss: Reader has feelings for their coworker and roommate. So Jack decides to help them out a little.

Business and Pleasure by @jadecaitlynmua: Faking a relationship, turned into something you hadn’t expected.  

And They Were Roommates by @trans-reader-fics: Asexual!Reader and Spencer. The team surprise Reid with a visit to his apartment. Little do they know, he has a roommate. 

I Swear by @mrs-dr-reid: Reader decides to clean the apartment, but she finds something of Spencer’s that she was never supposed to see.  

With My Whole Heart by @kingdom-by-the-sea : Reader and Spencer have known each other long enough that admitting they have feelings for each other seems like too big of a risk to take — especially since they have been living together and raising Spencer’s daughter, Annabel, for the past seven years.

Other CM Ships 

Freedom-Seeking Hearts by @foxy-eva: [Emily/Reader, SFW] For how much longer will Emily Prentiss and Fem!Reader be able to contain their freedom-seeking hearts?

Catching Sparks by @masterwords: [Hotch/Morgan, SFW] Hotch accepts Morgan's invitation to live with him as he goes through his divorce. And then they fall in love, of course.

Dare to Know by @tobias-hankel: [Hotch/Reid, SFW] Hotch moves in with Spencer and finds out a lot about the young man, including who he has a crush on.

Something That Wasn't There Before by @andiebeaword: [Temily, NSFW] You know what they say about roommates? Can’t keep anything straight.

A Cell Divides by @fortheloveofwonderland: [Ralvez, NSFW] Luke has prison all figured out until he’s introduced to his new cellmate, Doctor Spencer Reid.

Roommate Agreement by @mercy-burning: [Ralvez/Reader, NSFW] After about a year of living with Spencer, Reader gets excited when he introduces her to a new potential roommate.

Other MGG Characters 

Mates by @imagining-in-the-margins: [Lesley, NSFW] (AFAB!Reader) Reader and their roommate Lesley didn’t really think through the timing of this hookup.

Flashed Junk Mind by @reidgraygubler: [Wes, SFW] (AFAB!Reader) Reader is jealous when Wes invites over an old friend.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Tolerate It | S.R

Not my gif

To the Anon that sent me the ask for a song blurb with Taylor Swift’s Tolerate It, I am so sorry I accidentally deleted it 😫 but here it is!

This is for my milestone celebration which I am still taking requests for!

Summary - your relationship with Spencer seems to be on a downward spiral after seeing him kiss Cat Adam’s. Does he still love you or just simply tolerate you?

Content Warnings - angst, mentions of prison and Cat Adam’s and Spencer’s complicated feeling towards her, lethal injection. Angst with a hopeful ending.

Word Count - 1.9k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sit and watch you reading with your head low,

I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes closed.

I sit and watch you, I notice everything you do or don't do,

You're so much older and wiser and I.

It was a simple thing for you to say that Spencer Reid was the love of your life. 

You’d fallen for him hook line and sinker the first time you’d laid eyes on him across an exhibit at the Smithsonian several years ago. 

You were taking an art class in your free time and had gone to the museum for inspiration. You’d hoped to find it sitting in the middle of the Butterfly Pavilion surrounded by the beautiful creatures and tropical atmosphere. 

Instead you’d found it in the deep hazel eyes and messy haired man walking among them. 

You’d been bold to go and talk to him, not usually the type to make the first move. 

He’d told you his name was Spencer and he liked to spend his free time from his job at the FBI wandering the halls of museums. 

You spent several hours speaking with him, soaking in all his facts about butterflies and the rain forest. 

You’d let him take you to dinner afterwards and the rest was history. 

Things had been perfect between the two of you, both of you falling head over heels for the other easily. It seemed as though you’d met your perfect match, the man you’d spend the rest of your life with. 

You complimented each other, made up for the others shortcomings. He was the ying to your yang. The salt to your pepper. The sun to your moon. 

You’d been together four years when he was arrested in Mexico. You’d thought it was the hardest thing your relationship would have to withstand. 

The three months he spent inside was the longest the two of you had ever spent apart. You didn’t expect him to come out unchanged, unscathed; you knew he would be different. 

He pushed away. It started as little things here and there but soon started growing. He wasn’t the same man he used to be, he wasn’t the man who had spent an entire afternoon spouting butterfly facts just to see you smile. 

His behaviour forced your hand. You told him if something didn’t change you were leaving, you couldn’t keep living like this. 

And to his credit, Spencer had tried for you. 

He was never going to be the same but he was trying and that was all you could ask for. You learnt to love this new incarnation of him and the two of you fell back into a groove. 

Not the same groove, but a new kind you eventually grew to love just the same as you had your old one. 

And then Cat Adam’s reared her ugly head again. 

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid,

Use my best colors for your portrait.

Lay the table with the fancy shit,

And watch you tolerate it.

If it's all in my head tell me now,

Tell me I've got it wrong somehow.

I know my love should be celebrated,

But you tolerate it.

The day you’d found Spencer swapping saliva with the hitwoman outside of the door of your apartment, you’d known things would never be the same again. 

As much as he tried to tell you he was playing along with her game, you knew him better than that. You’d seen the look in his eyes when he’d realised you were behind the door. You saw the passion he’d put into that kiss. 

So as simple as it was for you to say that Spencer Reid was the love of your life, you knew from that day that you weren’t his. 

Cat Adam’s was. 

You tried to ignore it, tried to stuff it down in a little box and throw yourself into your relationship with vigour. 

But it became clear no matter how much you tried to be the perfect partner and give Spencer the faultless kind of love he needed; you were never enough for him.

Not anymore. 

I greet you with a battle hero's welcome,

I take your indiscretions all in good fun.

I sit and listen, I polish plates until they gleam and glisten,

You're so much older and wiser and I.

Every time he was due home from a case you greeted him at the door with a wide smile and open arms. 

You made sure the apartment was clean and always had his favourite meals prepared and waiting on the table for him. 

You’d tell him all about the things you’d been up to while he was away, barely getting anything in return. 

Sometimes you’d have sex, but it was far from the love making you used to share. 

When you told him you loved him it was always with enthusiasm in your voice, ensuring he knew you meant it. 

But it had been a long time since he’d said it in return. 

Over the years you’d made Spencer the focal point of your life, your top priority, while it seemed as though you’d become but a footnote in his. 

Every conversation was strained, like trying to suck blood from a stone. He didn’t spill facts at you the way he used to, he barely talked to you at all. 

And when he did he didn’t have the same kindness to his voice that he used to. 

You studied him on countless occasions and noticed the spark had long burnt out from behind his eyes. His shoulders were always slumped, he walked like he had something weighing him down. 

Even when he slept he didn’t look peaceful. 

Sometimes he mumbled her name in his unconsciousness and it was like a knife to the heart every single time. 

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid,

Use my best colors for your portrait.

Lay the table with the fancy shit,

And watch you tolerate it.

If it's all in my head tell me now,

Tell me I've got it wrong somehow.

I know my love should be celebrated,

But you tolerate it.

You felt like you’d become a hindrance to the man you loved. Your childish optimism and affection towards him was always shut down, as he retreated further into himself with each passing day. 

And maybe if you didn’t love him so much, you would have walked away. He tolerated you being in his life but he certainly didn’t love you anymore. How could? He couldn’t act like this towards you if he did. 

You deserved better. You deserve someone to love you the way you loved them. You shouldn’t have to stand for being second best, least of all to a psychopathic serial killer who’d gotten under his skin and somehow, into his heart. 

While you were out building other worlds, where was I?

Where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire?

I made you my temple, my mural, my sky,

Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life.

Drawing hearts in the byline,

Always taking up too much space or time.

You assume I'm fine,

But what would you do if I…

The day he came home looking more dishelved than usual, and past you straight by, heading upstairs, was the day you’d had enough. 

You followed him upstairs to the bedroom where he was getting out of his tie and jacket but he didn’t make eye contact with you. 

“Hello to you too.” You folded your arms across your chest, at wits end. 

“Hi.” He croaked, dumping the jacket and tie on the floor. 

“Can you even look at me?” You felt tears in your eyes, tears that had been building for months. “I know I’m not her but could you just look at me? See me?” 

He sighed loudly, running his fingers through his tangled hair before looking at you. 

“I assume the her you’re referring to is Cat?” 

“Who else?” You clenched your jaw, hoping to stem your tears. “I can’t believe I’m competing for your love with a serial killer!”

He sighed again, slumping back to the bed. 

“She’s dead.” He shrugged. “I went to her execution today. I watched them stick the needle in her arm and end her life.”

“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? Good riddance! I’m glad she’s dead.” 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He confessed, seemingly not hearing your words. “I don’t know how I let her under my skin this way. She put me in prison. She kidnapped my mom. But yet she had this sick hold over me and I don’t know what that means for me.” 

When he looked back up at you he had tears rolling down his cheeks. 

You softened in an instant and let your arms fall to your sides. 

You came closer to him and cautiously sat down next to him. 

“Did you love her?” Your own tears broke free now. 

“What? No, no of course not. I…I…I don’t think so.” He shook his head with another sigh. “The truth is I don’t know, ok? I had some kind of feelings for her, that much I do know. But what does that make me? How can I have feelings for someone like her?” 

His eyes were searching you for answers you didn’t have. And instead of giving him a half hearted response, you surprised him when you took hold of his hand. 

“You see the best in everyone, Spencer.” You brushed your thumb over his knuckles. “Even in people who are evil through and through. You humanise them. You try to find the good in them. You’re a protector, you wanted to help her even though she didn’t deserve your help. You’ve got a huge heart Spencer but sometimes that’s not always a good thing.” 

“I’ve not been fair to you.” He reached for you with his free hand and brushed your tears with his fingertips. “I’ve not treated you right because I was so caught up in her. Can you ever forgive me?” 

His eyes were begging, pleading with you desperately. 

You leaned into his touch and sighed shakily. 

“Answer me this Spencer, do you still love me? Or do you simply tolerate me?” 

You heard a pained whimper leave his lips as a sob wracked through him. 

His bottom lip quivered and he let his hand drop to his side. 

“Of course I love you, angel. I promise from now on I’ll show you how much, every single day. I could never simply tolerate you, my love. I’ve been a fool, but you are my whole world, ok?” 

With that you fell into his arms as you both sobbed. 

You weren’t sure what the future would hold for you and Spencer but for the first time in months you had a small glimmer of hope. 

A glimmer of hope that he wouldn’t just tolerate your love, he would celebrate it. 

Break free and leave us in ruins,

Took this dagger in me and removed it.

Gain the weight of you then lose it,

Believe me, I could do it.

If it's all in my head tell me now,

Tell me I've got it wrong somehow.

I know my love should be celebrated,

But you tolerate it.

I sit and watch you.

[btsydtrash]

Euphoria [7]

bad boy jungkook x librarian yn

Jungkook was used to getting what he wanted. He was handsome, disgustingly so, and he knew how to flirt his way in (and out of) danger. He lived for and with his brothers. He didn’t know anything but his found family. Still, happening upon you was one of the best decisions he ever made.

Now… How to make you realize that your life was missing him as much as his had been missing you.

(angst / yandere / smut / gore / fluff)

Masterlist  /  i don’t have a tag list  /  find me on twitter  /  word count: 4.5k

author’s note: so he’s got her. now, what?

tw: kidnapping, yandere

Chapter 7: ‘Integrity’

It doesn't take long to get back to their apartment - their safe space. You try to track it, keeping an eye on the turns left and right that they make, but it all gets too confusing in your brain after a while.

Initially, the car ride is filled with barely tolerable silence.

Jungkook was insistent on sitting next to you, despite the other two boys telling him it might not be the best idea. He hardheadedly refused to stray from your side, despite your icy expression and the stiff line of your shoulders, and the obvious disapproval of his brothers. You hardly get a word out before the shaggy-haired asshole with the intricate neck tattoo takes the wheel and Jimin hops in the passenger seat. The pink-haired bastard doesn’t waste a second before he tips an imaginary hat in the rear-view window when he catches your eye.

His lips curl up in a smug smirk and you snarl, “I should’ve taken your eye out when I had the chance.”

He blanches a little before locking eyes with Jungkook in the same mirror. Jimin grumbles, insolently, “I told you I wasn’t lying.”

Jungkook sits a touch closer to you, cautious as to not touch you too much, as if scared of setting you off somehow.

Good, you think. He shouldn’t want to get close to you.

Despite the impromptu hugging session you had found yourself in some minutes before the start of the drive, the boy seemed awfully… Well, shy. He couldn’t maintain eye contact for too long, eyes flitting down to his fingers, twisting them in his lap, and picking at his cuticles.

The driver glances back when he stops at a red light and reaches back to clasp his hand, gently. He chastises, softly, “Don’t do that, Kookie. You might start bleeding.”

Jungkook shoots a side-long glance your way, cheeks ruddy. He whines, brow puckering in embarrassment, “Hyung.”

The driver snorts before turning his attention back to the road. “Sorry, kiddo.” He glances over at Jimin and asks, “Pretty, you wanna listen to some music?”

Pretty?

“We’re in the middle of an active kidnapping and you want to put on a soundtrack?” Jimin asks, quirking a brow, very obviously amused. “Really, Taehyung?”

The other guy - Taehyung - shrugs, disinterestedly. “I was just askin’.”

“Of course I do,” Jimin responds, easily, shuffling through his playlist on his phone. A satisfied expression overtakes his face when he finds the song of his choice. He looks back over his shoulder, catching your eye, and says, “I hope you like Hot Girl Shit.”

You roll your eyes and turn your eyes back out of the window.

Megan Thee Stallion’s voice filters through the speakers, practically vibrating through your spinal cord with how loud it is. You try hard as you might to ignore the three other bodies in the vehicle. In fact, you close your eyes, hoping like hell you could just turn back the last twenty-four hours and never go back to that crappy coffee shop so you wouldn’t have ever had to meet the pink-haired fucker in the front seat.

Maybe then everything you had put together wouldn’t be falling apart so easily right in front of your eyes. Your flimsy house of cards was tumbling to the ground and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Alas, wishing alone did nothing to change the direness of your situation and that left you in a wretched mood.

A petulant part of you wants to kick the back of his seat but you were sat behind Taehyung and he seemed like more of a hard-ass than Jimin was, so you let the idea, no matter how pleasurable, go and slowly find yourself melting into the heated seats.

A brush of skin on yours sometime later has your eyes flashing open, suddenly painfully alert. You glance over to see Jungkook, seemingly exhausted, relaxed in the seat beside you. His eyes are closed and he is breathing slowly, but he’s holding your pinky finger as if it’s a lifeline.

Jimin asks, softly, “Is he sleeping already?”

You look over to find Jimin already looking at you, intently. You respond, tersely, “Guess so.”

Jimin gets this pinched look on his face and Taehyung mutters, shooting worried glances at the sleeping man beside you, “He’s been running on adrenaline alone for over an hour. I’m not surprised.”

You move your hand from his hold, putting it firmly in your lap, but it seems to trigger something like panic in Jungkook. He huffs, furrowed brow deepening as his lip curls. In his sleep, Jungkook gnaws at his bottom lip and stretches out, pushing his hips out, shifting to try and get comfortable.

“Hold his hand,” Jimin hisses, sharply.

You glare at him through the mirror, defiantly, ready for another argument, but to your surprise, he doesn’t look demanding or angry - only concerned for his friend.

“Please, YN,” he whispers, watching Jungkook start to twitch harder in his sleep.

You recognize the beginnings of a nightmare.

A small part of you pities him, he looks so uncomfortable and scared, but you step on it - the soft part of you that recognizes him as vulnerable and pitiable.

He’s your kidnapper, YN. Stop being so fucking weak.

You exhale, annoyed, but do as you are told, awkwardly nudging your hand back into his perimeter and you watch, slightly fascinated as Jungkook’s hand slowly searches for your own. His fingers brush yours, tentatively, before he encompasses your hand with his own and pulls it into his lap, making you nearly fall over in your seat. The crease of his forehead smooths out and his entire body relaxes, his head lolling back and his mouth falling open to let out barely-audible snores. Even though you are halfway leaning over the backseat, he seems more than comfortable, so you unenthusiastically shift until you are sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with the bulky, snoozing man.

Taehyung’s lips pull up in a small smile, and Jimin gives you a grateful look. He mouths, “Thank you” before turning back to face the front and he taps out the rhythm of the song against the hand-rest. Taehyung reaches over the console to grab his hand, drawing indiscernible shapes on the back of the pink-haired man's hand with his thumb.

Oh, you realize. They must be dating.

That makes sense.

You try not to stare but the sight of the lightly flushing pink-haired man and the intimidating pillar of misery sharing a moment of lovey-dovey, ooey-gooey romance doesn’t instinctively make your stomach turn.

Honestly, you have always found love relationships intriguing. Not in an envious way, you try to convince yourself. But instead, in a purely clinical, curious way. You watched romance movies often, people-watching at the library as couples sometimes come in to peruse the stacked walls, kissing in hidden corners of the bibliotheca, spending hours mutually lost in alternate worlds of fiction.

It always intrigued you, but you weren’t normal. Wishing for something so regular as a healthy love relationship was outside of your capacity. Nobody would understand all your quirks and idiosyncrasies - all of your traumas that made you so prickly, distant, and unapproachable. It was too much work. It was better if you just stayed alone with your imagination, with your movies and books.

You hear that the thought of love is better than the actual experience.

The car pulls into a private compound with high, expensive-looking buildings surrounded by patches of neatly clipped trees and playgrounds, pulling you out of your depressing reverie.

You already feel out of place but the two men in the front don’t even bat an eyelid at the luxury you were entering. The security guards bow respectfully as they permit access, neither eye finding yours in the backseat, but you don’t expect them to, taking into consideration the dark tint on the windows. You try to discern where you are, but nothing about your surroundings feels familiar, but why would it?

You are entering the upper echelon of Korean wealth and opulence.

They enter the underground car park and park in a private parking spot. The car to the right is a bulky black Jeep and the one to the left is one that you are sure you’ve seen on advertisements in passing - white, sleek, expensive, and totally out of your financial reach. You don’t even want to touch it as the door is opened.

Jimin gets out of the car and opens the door on your side. He makes some space for you to climb out and he says, when he notices your tentative expression, “Don’t worry. It’s mine. You won’t scratch it. Come on out.”

You gesture to where Jungkook has your hand in an even tighter hold than before and say, drily, “I would if I could.”

“Kookie,” Taehyung says, reaching back from the driver’s spot to tap the sleeping man’s knee. “Stop faking.”

One of his doe eyes cracks open and he flushes around his collar, clearly embarrassed over being called out. “Hyung.”

Stupefied, you ask, “You were faking this whole time?”

Jungkook goes quiet, letting go of your hand, albeit a touch reluctantly. “Not the whole time.”

You enquire, “When did you wake up?”

“When we pulled into the complex,” he admits, awkwardly. He tries to laugh, his bunny teeth peeking out, but he notices how unamused you seem to the smile slips from his face in an instant. He continues, more seriously, “The speed bumps always wake me up.”

“Oh my-”

Frustrated, you throw yourself out of the car and shove past an amused Jimin who is barely holding back his laughter.

You hiss, threateningly, “Quit laughing, dick-face.”

Jimin puts up both hands in surrender and comments, sarcastically, “Your word is my command, my Queen.”

Taehyung grabs you under the armpit, pulling you along towards the staircase.

Jimin complains, “Tae, it’s fifteen floors.”

“No cameras,” the other man retorts, simply. “Or, do you want the cops coming here?”

Jimin groans before he taps the elevator button and says, simply, “Ya’ll can walk. I’m taking the elevator.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes but he replies, good-naturedly. “Never a team player.”

Jungkook, who hasn’t taken his eyes off where Taehyung is touching you, jumps in. “I- I can walk her up, Hyung.”

“You can’t be trusted by yourself with her,” he retorts, easily. “She’ll just bat her eyelids and you’ll fold like a stack of cards.”

Taehyung gives him a long look over his shoulder as if daring him to deny his words but the other man just hangs his head and looks down at his hands.

“Exactly,” Taehyung says.

Jimin steps into the elevator once it pings and disappears, tossing a playful salute your way. You wish you could kick him in his stupid, smug face, but you have a feeling Taehyung would snatch you straight out of the air and toss you into the ceiling before you had a chance.

Taehyung opens the door and nudges you inside first, moving towards the staircase, but he is stopped by Jungkook grabbing your hand in a tentative grip. He holds your pinky and ring finger, tugging a touch insistently, but his eyes aren’t on you - they are on Taehyung.

“Let me hold her hand at least, Hyung,” Jungkook pleads, quietly. “Let go of her, okay?”

Taehyung shoots a glance down to where he is holding your arm before he promptly releases you.

“Go ahead, Kookie,” he responds, handing you over like a limp doll. He holds you for a moment, reclaiming your attention and he warns, seriously, “He can walk you up these stairs like a lady or I can knock you out and carry you like a sack of potatoes. Your choice.”

“Suck my dick,” you retort, lip curling in distaste.

Jungkook makes a noise of displeasure in the back of his throat but he pulls you to his side. “You shouldn’t provoke him like that.”

You glare at the taller man but say nothing, choosing instead to stomp by his side. He doesn’t struggle to keep up pace with you, which only pisses you off more, because of the three of you, it seems as if you were the only one who was having trouble with the stairs. And it only got worse the higher you got.

“I can carry you if you want,” Jungkook suggests, delicately. He moves to reach for you as if to offer you his back but you only feel yourself get angrier at him.

Where does he get off, treating you like you couldn’t take care of yourself?

Like you were weak?

It’s his fault you were in the situation in the first place.

You know while your anger is valid, it was definitely misplaced. But the look in his eye, that hopelessly adoring look, was too similar to something you only recognized in the eyes of the person who is the reason all of this bullshit in your life started and you got mad.

And, oh, you got so mad. Red bleeds into your vision and your body is moving without your permission.

Instinctively, you slap his hand away, the sound slashing through the air, loud enough to shock Taehyung who snaps his head to look back at you in surprise but you don’t lose your momentum. Instead, you glare up at him, fire burning in your eyes, and you spit, jabbing your finger in his direction, “I don’t need your fucking help. Don’t put your hands on me again.”

You stomp past Taehyung, who only watches you pass by, intrigued. Jungkook makes an aborted move to grab you but seems to think better of it.

You don’t know what you would have done if you felt his hands on your body for another moment.

Speedily, you reach the fifteenth floor, with Taehyung and a silent Jungkook hot on your heels and you rip the door open, rage pushing you ahead even though you know full-well that what awaits you is unlikely to be the definition of a ‘fun time’.

There is only one apartment on the floor, so you presume the door at the end of the corridor is theirs. Taehyung moves ahead of the two of you, tugging up the keypad and quickly tapped in the number. You couldn’t see what it was, his broad body hiding the password from your line of sight, but even if he hadn’t been standing directly in the way, you wouldn’t have been able to focus, considering the waves of awkward intensity rolling off Jungkook’s body as he hovers beside you.

You can feel his eyes on you, practically burning into the side of your face, and even from where he is positioned in your periphery, you can feel the tension in his body that betrays his distress.

Fuck him.

The door swings open and Taehyung steps inside, kicking his shoes off to the side, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Honey, we’re home,” he sing-songs.

Even from where you are standing, you have never seen such an elegant living space before in your life. The walls are embellished with bronze and lined with detailed, golden strips.

The reception is a wide area, an expensive rug beneath a heavy cherrywood table. Straight past there is a small foyer leading to three other rooms that you can’t see into from your place, awkwardly loitering in the reception area.

Jimin walks in from a room to the right and tosses his arm around Taehyung’s back, shoving a hand in his back pocket.

“Welcome to our home,” the pink-haired man says, eyes crinkling as he beams at you.

Your expression of annoyance doesn’t falter for even a moment and the tension between you and Jungkook must be palpable enough for him to notice almost immediately.

Jimin shares a brief look with Jungkook, and he seems to notice something unseemly on the other man’s face. He asks, “Why do you look like you’re about to cry, Kookie?”

Jimin looks up at Taehyung, the question clear on his face.

Taehyung gestures to you with his chin, disinterestedly.

“Ask your guest,” he retorts, sarcastically, scrolling through his phone.

Jimin prompts, eyes raised, “Well?”

“I didn’t do anything,” you deny, but it sounded weak, even to your ears. You continue, frowning, “I just didn’t want him to pick me up.”

“Don’t be mad at her, Hyung,” Jungkook says, and even though you refuse to look at him, you feel your heart twinge at the sorrow in his voice. He really does sound close to tears, voice thick and trembling. “I was being too much.”

Jimin stares, disapprovingly, but bites down on his bottom lip to stop himself from saying anything. He tosses his hands up and says, “Fine. I’m saying nothing.”

But he promptly turns on his heel and disappears back the way he came. He might not have said anything, but his distaste was clear and obvious in his attitude.

Not that you gave a fuck.

Taehyung follows behind his boyfriend, leveling you with a purposeful look as he goes.

Jungkook says, softly, “Do you… I can show you around if you want, YN?”

You turn your body to finally look at Jungkook to properly look him from top to toe, and you see how curved in his shoulders are, like he is trying to make himself smaller - less intimidating, you realize a moment later. Your brows furrow in upset and you ask, quietly, “Are you serious about this? You aren’t going to let me go?”

Jungkook’s jaw ticks and he avoids your eyes, looking down. His dark eyebrows draw together, as if in pain at the mere thought, and he whispers, “You’ll leave if I let you go.”

“Jungkook,” you say, reaching for his hand, hoping to appease whatever obsessive need to be around you. You barter, softly, “Come on…”

Jungkook looks up at you, one time, locking eyes with you, before he pulls himself away, wrapping his arms around himself, tight. He whimpers, “Stop doing that.”

“Jungkook,” you say, trying again. “Just- Let me go. I’ll stay around. I have nowhere else to go anyway.”

Jungkook shakes his head, some of his hair falling into his eyes, and he declares, seriously, “You can’t go anywhere. You can’t.”

He moves to walk past you but you grab for him, wrapping your hand around his forearm and you plead with your eyes.

For the first time, though, he rips himself away from you and he slams his hand down on the nearby table, the sound scaring the daylights out of you.

“No,” he snaps, eyes unfocused as he glares down at you and his nostrils flare as panicked breaths escape him. “If I have to lock you in this apartment for the rest of your life, I will. You- Just stop trying to leave me.”

Jungkook and you share an intense look, neither one of you relenting for a long moment, breathing heavily.

“I won’t ever forgive you for this,” you tell him, resolutely, after a long pause. “I’ll never forgive you.”

His lower lip trembles but he refuses to accede.

“Fuck you,” you hiss and storm past him, further into the house.

You have no idea what is waiting for you when you do, but you can’t stand being around him any longer. The smell of his cologne, the watery yet determined look in his eyes, the way his lips tremble as if he were the one hurt by the situation.

It was all too much - too fucking much for you to take.

You turn to the left instead of the right (where Taehyung and Jimin had walked off towards) and push open the door to reveal a nicely stocked library. An entire wall is filled with books of all thicknesses and heights, two oval-shaped tables, and a medley of armchairs dotted around the room. One sofa is against the opposite wall, next to the large set of windows.

The view is beautiful - truly. It is one of the most impressive vantage points of the Seoul sky-line that you had ever seen, but you are still filled with so much barely resolved anger that you can’t even take it in fully.

The door closes behind you but nobody comes inside, thankfully. You don’t know what you would do if he forced himself to be in your presence any longer. Still, the sound of the door closing behind you feels like a noose around your neck that only grows tighter with each second.

You drop down on the sofa, exhaustion washing over you instantly, and you close your eyes, trying to fight off the impending headache that is blooming behind your eyes.

Instead of being on a plane to an unnamed island somewhere hot and sexy, you are stuck in the (admittedly gorgeous) apartment of your obsessed stalker and his freaky found-family. Not only that, Seokjin’s words of warning echo in the back of your mind like a shadow, reminding you of the absolute danger you were still in.

If he found you again, there would be nothing you could do to escape this time.

The miserable thought used to pass through your mind that the last time you got away was a fluke. That the last few years had been some kind of sick and twisted foreplay, that he was just toying with you - letting you convince yourself that you were free, only to clench his fist around your throat and drag you back to his side, kicking and screaming.

A shuddering breath escapes your mouth and you feel it well up in the back of your throat.

Something you haven’t felt for a very long time.

The urge to cry.

What the fuck are you supposed to do?

-----

Jungkook POV

It was going to hell.

Nothing was going right. She kept trying to leave, so I had no choice - I know that, Jimin knows that, Tae knows that. But she... She just wouldn’t understand where I was coming from.

She wouldn’t see my side of things. All I wanted was to bundle her up in a warm space, to keep her happy and safe and with me - but she kept trying to leave me. 

How can I love her if she keeps me at arms length?

How can I be gentle with her if she keeps pushing me away?

I pace the length of the hallway once more, gnawing at my nailbed even though I had long torn my cuticles to shreds, my stomach rolling as another wave of nausea passes over me at the instability of my situation.

YN was in my bedroom. Proximity-wise, YN and I have never been closer. She was sleeping in my bed, accoridng to Jimin, after taking a shower in my bathroom and wrapping up her supple and warm body in my towels and dressing in my clothes. Nothing could get me harder, faster, than knowing she was waiting for me, balmy and warm and so fucking soft. My dick twitches again, my lower head and my upper head clearly not on the same fucking page.

Emotionally, however, we couldn’t be further from one another.

The way I went about the whole thing wasn’t the best - sure, I can admit that.

But I didn’t hit her. I didn’t bruise her or abuse her. I just needed her to stay fucking put, right where I can see her.

Taehyung laughs to himself, so unbearably amused by the whole thing that it was pissing me off. I didn’t mock him like this when he got so drunk, he pissed himself in the bathtub after the only time Jimin verbalised his desire to break up. They didn’t end up doing it, of course, but Tae was inconsolable for days. I can’t stand the smell of Jameson anymore and my nose bridge hasn’t been right since that four-day bender.

“You look pathetic,” Taehyung remarks, lightly. “Just go in there and show her who’s boss.”

“If you wanted me to get my eyes scratched out, that might be a good idea,” I retort, sardonically. “YN can’t stand to be in the same room as me, let alone let me close enough to toss my weight around.”

Tae hums. “You’re sure about her, right?”

I nod, without a moment of hesitation. “She’s everything and more than what I thought she might be. She’s so fucking perfect, hyung.”

“She sure is interesting,” he comments, brow quirking. “I still don’t like her for how she treated Jimin.”

My lips purse in agreement. “That wasn’t... That shouldn’t have happened.”

“Jimin is also at fault,” he retorts, fairly. “He was dicking around where he shouldn’t have been. YN didn’t deserve all of that.”

“Thank you, hyung,” I reply, unable to really smile considering the state of my emotions. I look up at him, gnawing at my bottom lip, and I ask, tentatively, “How... How did you do it?”

“Do, what?”

“Get Jimin to love you,” I finish, despondently.

Taehyung gives me a look, eyes softening at the corners and he reaches for my shoulder, squeezing gently. “Jimin already loved me long before ‘we’ happened. I never had to ‘get’ him to love me. He just did.”

I feel my shoulders drop at his words, my eyes filling with tears and a thick lump wedges itself in my throat, choking me.

“She’s never going to love me,” I whimper, falling into Taehyung’s chest. He wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me close and pressing a gentle kiss to my temple. “She h-hates m-me so m-much.”

“She doesn’t know how good she has it with you,” Taehyung says, softly. “You’re so special and loving. She just has to see that. Stop crying, kiddo. It makes me sad.”

He wipes my tears away, and rocks me tenderly from side to side.

“I can’t- I can’t not have her, hyung,” I whisper. “I think I’ll go crazy.”

“If she leaves?”

“If she takes a step somewhere I can’t see or touch her, I feel like my chest is going to collapse,” I admit in a fast whimper. “I get dizzy and irrationally angry. She asked to leave earlier and my ears went quiet and fuzzy. I yelled at her and I didn’t even realize it... That terrified me.”

Taehyung rests his chin on my shoulder as he asks, “When you think about her leaving, do you imagine yourself hurting her to keep her by your side?”

I tense up, pushing my head further into his chest. “I’d never hit her. I just can’t imagine her being away from me.”

“Then make it so that she can’t exist away from you,” he says, simply. “Push yourself so deep into her that she doesn’t even consider the world if you aren’t in it right next to her.”

“Does that make me a bad person, hyung?”

Taehyung shakes his head, eyes scanning my face softly. “It makes you a man in love.”

- end - 

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7)

[hiraya-rawr]

Drinking Culture + Mondstadt Girls

headcanons on the nation of freedom, song, and wine with our beloved genshin girls and some boys too, assuming that all characters mentioned are of legal drinking age—

cw !! alcohol consumption and drinking culture

We all know that Mond has a huge drinking culture, with the stereotype being Mondstadters knowing how to hold their alcohol, so let's consider this—

Jean can best her knights in a drinking contest. She's rarely ever seen in a tavern, let alone with a drink, but don't underestimate the Gunnhildr and her alcohol tolerance.

The Knights of Fav have probably had their fair share of drinking celebratory parties. If they ever manage to rope their Acting Grand Master into a shot challenge, you'd find her on equal grounds with Kaeya, with the rest on the brink of passing out.

She wasn't childhood best friends with the Ragnvindr brothers for nothing after all (knight trainees and alcohol industry heirs? not the best mix, no matter how well behaved they were)

Of course, we know Lisa can hold her own.

But imagine young Lisa in Sumeru Academy. She's the kind of student who can drown mixes at 2AM in a party and still be on time for her 7 AM lecture (while maintaining her status as a prodigy of the academy)

Students with Lisa at the party last night, absolutely wasted, seeing her ace the exams without a hair out of place be like: ಠ_ಠ

Sumeru academy students must learn to fear the Mondstadter.

Fischl and Bennett at least knowing their mixes and cocktails. See them hang out with Liyuean youth and they're suggesting all the best drinks that are easy for those who aren't used to drinking yet.

"Oh this one's sweet, and this one tastes like ginger ale, it's not strong at all!"

Rosaria is obviously used to drinks, BUT CONSIDER BARBARA

Barbara who loves super spicy food, so it isn't a surprise when you see her drown hard whiskey without shedding a tear.

She's a casual drinker. Barbara is a Gunnhildr and an idol, so she tends to keep up appearances with a frizzy champagne glass (but the contents are nothing like a "girly drink")

Eula honestly gives me light weight vibes but I believe she can impress anyone with her liquor knowledge.

And Amber enjoys a few beers every now and then too! She also loves a pretty cocktail.

Sucrose consumed her fair share of weird things (whether for experimentation or just her own cooking), I like to think she can down a lot without breaks.

Klee probably knows more alcohol brands than the average young adult in another nation.

Diona despises alcohol, but she's a bartender for pete sake — she can mix you anything whether it's a mocktail or a cocktail!

Friendly reminder that Diluc didn't always despised alcohol but I think it was mentioned in his story that he once downed Snezhnayan liquor which caused him to pass out for three days? The maids said they've never seen anyone as wasted as that. Ever.

So is Diluc a light weight or a heavy weight? hmmm

masterlist 2

[peppermint-joys]

Being Adopted by Mirabel Madrigal Would Include

Takes place ten years after canon. Reader's age is like 4-5.

You were born into a small but loving family. Unfortunately, you were orphaned after the death of your last surviving relative.

You would play in the square on warm days. That’s actually how you met Mirabel. She was playing her accordion, and you decided to join some other children in dancing to her music.

In spite of it all, you were one of the more happy energetic children. Every time you saw Mirabel you’d beg, beg, her to play your favorite song and spin around until you made yourself absolutely dizzy.

Mirabel finally asked about your family, noting that you always seemed unsupervised and alone. When you tell her you don’t have one, she invites you to stay at Casa Madrigal. With the promise of good cooking, you agree.

Her family absolutely adores you. You blended right in.

The family sets you up in the nursery. It’s last tenant, Luisa’s daughter, now six.

You and Dolores’s oldest, an eight-year-old son, are best friends. A pair of troublemakers. He’s the only one with enough energy to rival your own.

Alma, eighty-five, quietly decides you’re just what this family needs. With everyone worrying about her eventual passing and who will lead the family next, they need a little joy, a little fun.

She happily tells you the story of how the family got their miracle, and how they nearly lost it forever. Luckily Mirabel saved it and made their family stronger. Made them better.

Julieta absolutely spoils you, her newest grand baby. You want an arepa the size of your face, that’s what you’re getting.

She enjoys cooking with you and Luisa’s daughter; letting her little grandchildren in on her secret recipes.

Augustín can’t keep up with you. You’re such a little ball of energy and he isn’t as young as he used to be. Loves you dearly but is in a constant state of panic about your safety (shoe's on the other foot).

You fall. His heart stops, but you dust yourself off and keep running.

Pepa and Felíx would let you get away with murder. Need to hide something you broke, or an alibi perhaps? These are the people you go to. Should they encourage all of your exploits, no? But you’re so little and precious.

Felíx will sometimes aid in your shenanigans. Pepa meanwhile, is great at providing an alibi.

On the rare occasions your energy is spent and you just want some time, you head to Bruno’s tower. He just has a very calming warm space.

Usually reading or just chilling, he’s the perfect napping buddy. He’ll sometimes enter his room and just find you there, passed out on his bed. He’ll quietly exist around you until you wake up.

You get along so well with the entire family. Mirabel decides to adopt you, fortunately her partner agrees. They’re the best parents, they both love you with their whole hearts.

Besides Dolores’s son Casita is your favorite playmate. They’re really good at playing keep away and exhausting your energy. Though, it is annoying when they tell you.

Additionally, you and Casita have a bit of a rivalry. Like two siblings you will sometimes clash for your mama, Mirabel’s, attention.

Isabela is the best babysitter, she lets you climb tall trees, get messy, and decorates your hair with flowers. Additionally, she gives you lots of hugs, which sometimes you could do without. She’s so much fun.

Dolores and Mariano, while their oldest is your best friend and their twin boys are your playful rivals, they themselves act as your secondary parents. Need to talk about something that’s bothering you there’s Dolores. Want someone to play dolls with you and be the bad guy. There’s Mariano (also all the other Madrigal men, but he’s the most willing to play how you want.)

When you get older, they’re the ones meddling in your romantic life. Trying to set you up with that one kid you mentioned having a crush on that one time.

Luisa is your jungle gym. It’s amazing how tolerant she is with letting you climb all over her. You’re quite the opposite of her reserved, timid daughter.

You try to mimic her. She lifts a boulder. Look at you! You raised a stone, almost got it off the ground. Yeah, you’re pretty sure you’re going to be just like her when you grow up.

Camilo loves you, you’re the baby of his favorite prima. If you’re having a bad day or need some cuddles, he’s there in a heartbeat to cheer you up.

Camilo is the prank king. Currently his twin nephews are the prank princes, but you have plans of dethroning them all. Camilo underestimates you at first. You’re so giggly and cute. He should have realized those giggles hinted at your more mischievous side. It seems you’re always trying to out prank one another, and you’re more likely to get away with it.

Mirabel, you’re beloved mama. This woman gives you all the praise and love you need and then some. Though the family is better than it once was, still, she never wants you to feel less than because you don’t have a gift.

Expect a lot of plushies and homemade clothes. Shut up about the sweater being too itchy. Your mama made it with the love she has for her baby.

Antonio, baby boy, is fifteen now. He endeavors to be for you what Mirabel was for him when he was your age. You two have a sort of sibling dynamic. Instead of always staying in the nursery, he often invites you to sleepover in his room.

If you leave the family’s sight, there for sure is an animal watching over you. Doing something mischievous, his leopard will pick you up and remove you from the situation. Antonio really tries to keep you out of trouble.

On the day your adoption is legalized there’s a big celebration in the heart of Encanto. There’s a new Madrigal child, of course the whole community shows up to celebrate.

When you arrive back at la casa Madrigal the family stalls at the door. A little carving of you is etched in the wood, glowing gold. You stand beside your mama holding her in the center of the whole family. Your family.

Inside another surprise awaits. A staircase that hadn’t been there before leads up to a door, just waiting to be claimed.

———————

My first reader insert headcanon! Yay!

[somewhatgreatexpectations]

Wanda Maximoff Masterlist

Main Masterlist | Main Page

"Love Goes" - Series

Warnings: Cheating, slowburn, friends to lovers (She/Her pronouns)

Summary: A story of the progression of love between Wanda and reader with each chapter inspired by different Sam Smith songs. With some protective Steve thrown in for good measure.

"As It Was" - Series

Warnings: Mentions of trauma. (She/ Her pronouns)

Summary: The continuation of "Love Goes". Wanda tries desperately to keep the happy ending she's always dreamed of. Wandavision inspired.

"Love Me (Or Let Me Go)" - Series

Warnings: None. (She/ Her pronouns)

Summary: You share a complicated history with your former best friend, Leigh. What happens when her twin, Wanda enters the picture? Wanda/Leigh love triangle.

"Cruel Summer" - Series

Warnings: Language, secret relationship, drinking. (She/ Her Pronouns)

Summary: Pietro Maximoff has been your best friend from the very first day of college. 3 years later and he's only asked one thing of you... To not pursue his twin, Wanda, who you've never met. Her moving in is only the beginning of a cruel summer.

"Omen" - Series

Warnings: Toxic relationship, friends with benefits. (She/ Her pronouns)

Summary: Reader shares a complicated history with Wanda. What will happen when reader starts to fall for Yelena? Who will reader end up with? Wanda/ Yelena love triangle.

"Involuntary Skydiving" - One-shot

Warnings: none.

Summary: The team doesn’t know much about your abilities. Well, everyone except your girlfriend, Wanda.

"Can you Feel the Love Tonight?" - One-shot

Warnings: None. (No pronouns used)

Summary: You should have known to be suspicious when Yelena and Kate planned a karaoke night. And even more suspicious that since they figured out your crush on a certain redheaded Avenger.

"Tolerate It" - One-shot

Warnings: Toxic relationship, broken relationship. (She/ Her pronouns.)

Summary: You were blipped… Wanda wasn’t. It’s been five years for her and moments for you. Will your relationship still be the same?

"Fa La La" - One- shot

Warnings: None. (No pronouns used.)

Summary: Christmas was about giving which meant that it was the perfect time to give the confession of love… Right?

"Santa Tell Me" - One-shot

Warnings: None. (No pronouns used.)

Summary: Who knew having Santa at the compound could lead to confessions.

[agaypanic]

The Fella Part 5 (James Maguire X Quinn!Reader)

Main Masterlist

The Fella Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: The Quinn family’s yearly trip out of Derry is near, and this time they’re bringing Michelle, James, and Clare. What will be worse; some stranger hiding in the boot of the Quinn’s car to get away from Derry, or Y/n having to spend hours smushed next to James and trying to make sure no beans are spilled?

A/N: This feels like a filler chapter and I’m sorry but I wanted to include all the episodes in this series lol

***

Dishes clattered as large steps pounded the pavement in unison. Instruments were played loudly (and annoyingly) throughout the streets of Derry.

It was driving everyone up the wall.

“Already?” Mary walked around her kitchen at a brisk pace. “It’s started already?”

“I think it’s just a rehearsal, love.” Her husband Gerry responded as he slathered butter on a piece of toast.

“What do they need to rehearse, Da?” Y/n grumbled as she sat down next to him. The Protestants had woken her up and to say she wasn’t pleased was an understatement. “They’ve been playing the same songs since 1795.”

“Practice makes perfect, Y/n.” Orla responded, seeming to be the only one tolerant of the noise. “You know, that is why they are so cracker.”

There was a pause in the kitchen. Erin was the first to speak up.

“I’m sorry? Did you just call the Orange Order ‘cracker’?” Orla shrugged, as if there was nothing wrong with her statement.

“I’m considering joining.”

“I don’t think they accept Catholics, Orla.”

“Or our right to exist.” Y/n spoke through a mouthful of toast. The young ones continued eating as Mary and Gerry packed a suitcase. Every year when the Orange Order comes, the Quinn family (plus the McCools) leave Derry for a small holiday to get away from the chaos. Something that was common was Mary’s distress while she was still in the house. She wanted to get out of Derry as soon as possible.

After a fight about whether or not to bring a big clock instead of a wee one, Grandpa Joe talking down about Gerry to Mary, and finally putting the suitcase in the boot of the car, something startling happened. When Grandpa Joe opened the front door with the suitcase, Clare ran through him and into the kitchen.

“Listen to it!” She squealed. She started stumbling over her words as Mary tried to calm her down: “I mean, listen to it! I mean, I don’t… I’ve read the same paragraph 47 times because I can’t concentrate because… My God, the noise! This whale is a bad brute, Mrs. Quinn. I have to know if they catch him. Can I come away with you, please?” 

Mary sighed in relief as Clare took a breath.

“If your mother has no objections, I don’t see why not.” The girl exploded with thanks as she went to sit down at the dining table with her friends.

“She’s taking you to a caravan in Portnoo, she’s not giving you her kidney, Clare.” Erin rolled her eyes.

“Let her read her Moby Dick, Erin.” Y/n said as she watched her friend reach for a piece of toast with her eyes fixated on the pages in front of her.

“Listen, Mary, I just did a reading.” Aunt Sarah startled the house as she came into the living room. “The cards say if we go on this wee holiday, we’re placing ourselves in grave danger, which I’m not buzzing about, to be honest.”

“You’re not psychic, Aunt Sarah.” Erin groaned.

“I am psychic, Erin. I did a course. I got a certificate.”

There was more back and forth between Sarah and different members of the house but it was cut off, later than Y/n preferred, by Orla.

“Shh! This is the best bit!” She signaled to the Orange Order’s music and stomping. Everyone got on edge as the house shook with every stomp, until a glass fell over and shattered on the ground. 

“Remain calm, everyone!” Mary yelled, holding her hands out to stop any movement. “I need you all to listen very carefully.”

5 minutes later, all the kids were standing on the dining chairs and Mary was about to go in to clean up the glass shards when the front door opened. 

“For the love of God, don’t come in here!” Mary yelled to the unexpected company.

“Everything all right, Mary?” Y/n froze as she looked up, recognizing the voice as Michelle’s mum. With her mum always came Michelle. And with Michelle always came- “Listen, Mary, I hate to do this to you, but me and Martin are both working nights and I’m nervous about leaving these two on their own.”

James.

“Don’t suppose there’s any chance you could take them with you?”

Y/n hadn’t talked to James much since Jenny’s party a week ago. Sure there was some banter in the group, but she didn’t go out of her way to have a conversation. Katya and James had obviously broken up and although she felt bad about it, Y/n was a wee bit happy when she had heard the news. And with the revelation she had at Jenny’s party, she felt a bit nervous talking to James beyond something casual in fear of letting something slip.

“Ach, well, Deirdre, it’s just-”

“The English thing? Listen, Mary, I understand.” Deidre nodded, slowly looking over at James. “I mean, he’s my nephew, and even I find it hard to get past. If I’m totally honest, there’s times when I look a him and I feel… well, it’s pure hatred.”

Mary laughed nervously.

“No, no, it’s not the English thing.” 

“I hope to God it’s not the gay thing you’re offended by.” 

James looked confused.

“There is no gay thing.”

“Because I’d be disappointed in you, Mary.”

“Of course not. I mean, if anything, the gay thing sort of cancels out the English thing.”

“Again, no gay thing.” Erin noticed that James made a quick glance to Y/n, who was too busy looking off to somewhere else to notice. Michelle nudged James with a snicker.

“You wouldn’t move over there, James? I can’t see past your massive closet.”

Mary laughed again.

“I’m just not sure we’ll have room in the caravan.”

“Us men can camp outside.” Grandpa Joe shrugged, which earned a quiet groan from both Gerry and James. “Just run and ask Jim across the road for the lend of his tent.”

***

The kids had come back with one of Jim’s tents when the cars were all packed up. Grandpa Joe put James in charge of it, despite his begs to not do that. Now the only thing left was to figure out seating arrangements.

“Right, there’s too many of us for one car. So some of you will have to go with me Da.” Mary said, hurriedly getting into the car. Michelle, Orla, and Aunt Sarah decided to go with Joe, because he drives fast and lets the latter smoke. James and Clare after hearing this volunteered to go with Mary and Gerry. That left Erin and Y/n.

“Where do you wanna go?” Y/n asked.

“Well, I bet you wanna be in Da’s car because James is in there.” Erin smirked.

“Shut your hole, he could hear you. More importantly, Michelle could hear you. We’re already on edge enough, I don’t need her up my arse about anything.”

“So do you want me to ride with Da?”

Y/n thought for a moment. She knew that Erin would probably blab her mouth about Y/n’s infatuation with James. The question was who was Y/n willing to let it slip to?

Gerry’s horn honked and Mary stuck her head out the window.

“We don’t have all day girls! And whoever rides with us has to hold Anna, we don’t have room for the car seat in the back.”

Y/n huffed.

“You better not say a word to Michelle or it’s your head, Erin.” Y/n sped to the car and knocked on the back door. James opened it and stepped out, holding the door open for the girl. She got in, buckled up, and sat her baby sister on her lap.

“Nice of you to join us.” James smiled as he got back in the car, slightly squishing Y/n between himself and Clare who was deep in her book.

***

“I hope your father appreciates the fact that I was the one who got us out of that mess.” Gerry fumed to his wife after they finally made it out of Derry. Grandpa Joe wanted to lead them out and had driven them right through a police barricade, subjecting the family to the Orange Order. At one point they tried getting James to get out of the car because they might have respected the fact that he was English.

“He won’t. Nobody back there actually believed you were a Japanese tourist, Gerry. They all thought you were a nutcase. They took pity on you.” Mary began looking around her, quickly going into a panic. “No, no, no, no. Dear God, no!”

“What’s wrong, Ma?” Y/n asked from the back.

“I can’t find my purse.”

“I can see your purse right there.” Gerry pointed to his wife’s lap. She shook her head.

“No, that’s my sterling purse. I can’t find my punt purse, Gerry. Blessed St. Anthony, the Grace of God has made you the patron saint of all things lost and stolen. I turn to you this day with childlike love and-”

“Mary, calm down.”

“Calm down, Gerry? We have no punts! We can’t go to the Free State without punts. We’re puntless! We haven’t a punt between us.” Mary started panicking even more. She tried making Gerry turn back, but he refused. The quick but tense spat ended when Mary paused.

“Oh, actually, do you know what? I think I put it in the suitcase.” 

Gerry sighed, looking up.

“False alarm there, St. Anthony.”

“Sorry for troubling you.” Y/n finished. Gerry pulled over and the adults got out of the car to get the punt purse. Joe pulled over behind them and all of the kids could hear him making fun of Gerry for how he got them all out of Derry. Mary explained that they pulled over to get her punt purse, but when they opened the boot, they all seemed surprised. The kids got out of the cars to see what was going on.

There was a strange man in their boot.

“Did you put him in there, Aunt Mary?” Orla asked.

“No, no, I did not.” Mary responded. “Who are you?” She asked the man.

“Ah, Emmett’s the name. Well, not my real name, like, but it’ll have to do.”

Y/n backed up at that, Anna still in her arms. Why did his real name have to be a secret?

“Mind telling us what you’re doing in there?” She asked. The man looked at her.

“Oh, right. Well, during the last 24 hours, crossing the border has become somewhat of a priority for me, so I did a bit of asking around, just on the off chance someone might be heading down that easy, and your name came up. And there you have it.”

“What the fuck.” Y/n muttered.

“Lovely to meet you.” The man then closed the boot. The adults tried to figure out what to do as the kids went to the other side of the road to talk.

“I’m in shock.” Michelle said.

“It’s insane!” Erin yelped.

“I don’t even think I fancy him.”

“What?” Y/n asked, very confused.

“Well, it’s obviously him. It’s obviously my husband. Like, it’s just too much of a coincidence.”

“Erin, what’s she talking about?”

“Do you remember the whole ‘us being in grave danger’ thing Sarah mentioned.” Erin ignored her sister’s question. “Well, I think this might be it!”

“I thought you said fortune telling was medieval.” Michelle raised a brow.

“Yeah, well, something has made me reassess all that. What was it again? Oh, aye. The fact that there’s an actual Provo in the boot of our car!”

“No!” Clare yelled. “I’ve lost my bookmark! Now I’ve lost my page! My God, this day just goes from bad to worse!”

“Clare, you probably left it in the car but I think we have more pressing matters.” Y/n huffed.

“I could fancy him, I suppose.” Michelle murmured, still thinking about how the strange could be her potential husband.

“Why doesn’t someone just call the police?” James asked.

“Cos that’s not how things work around here, James.” Erin laughed, as if he was new here.

“Well, how do things work here? How do they work? Will one of you please explain it to me, because sometimes I feel like I’ve gone through the fucking looking glass!”

“James, calm down.” Y/n said, looking at Anna to see if the outburst had affected her. Surprisingly, she was fine, just sleepy. “Look everyone, I think it’s safe to say we’re all still on edge. But we’re gonna be fine.”

She pulled James to the side, away from their friends.

“Are you okay?” She asked quietly.

“What do you mean?” James asked. 

“Well, I mean, last week you ended things with Katya. And now you’re blowing up at us.” James sighed, running a hand over his face and through his hair. Y/n tried to not think about how nice the sight was.

“Yeah. We were going really fast, I think, and I’m probably never going to see her again. And there’s a random man in your car, so...”

“Yeah, I get that.” She nodded. It felt nice talking to James.

“Actually, speaking of Katya and the whole thing. You were acting kinda off that night. And then you went off with that David bloke. What was-”

“Shh!” Erin cut James off. Y/n was thankful for that, for she didn’t want to go into detail about that night with him or anyone else. “Can you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Ticking. It’s like a ticking sound! Oh, dear God! Bomb!” Erin ran over to the adults, her friends following urgently after her. “He has a bomb! Listen, Mammy! Listen!”

Y/n grabbed onto the person next to her at the words. Everyone tensed and listened closely for the ticking. After a few seconds, Mary groaned.

“Och, Erin, that’s just the big clock.”

“Jesus, Erin.” Y/n hissed, releasing her hold on whoever she grabbed. It turned out to be James, who rubbed her back at an attempt to calm her down.

“Scared me for a second there.” Emmett laughed. He looked at the people crowded around him until his eyes landed on Y/n and James. “Cute baby. Though you two seem a bit young.”

Y/n turned pink at the statement.

“This is my sister.” She choked out. She didn’t think to tell him that they also weren’t together.

“Ah, my bad. Well, goodbye.” The boot closed again. Erin snickered and her sister shushed her with a nudge.

***

The family had found a diner to eat at and were trying to decide what to do with Emmett.

“It’s aiding and abetting! We’re talking serious jail time here.” Gerry hissed.

“Well, it’s a risk we have to take.” Joe shrugged.

“We don’t have to take any risks, Granda. He’s a complete stranger, and Emmett isn’t even his real name!” Y/n said as she looked at the topic of conversation.

It was safe to say that they wouldn’t be reaching a decision any time soon.

“We have to walk away from this.” Gerry said to everyone.

“What if we can’t walk away, Daddy?” Erin asked. “What if we don’t help him and he kills us all because we know too much?”

“Oh, God. He might.” Y/n gasped at the thought.

“I like him.” Joe said. “I think he’s a character.”

A waitress came by and took their drink order. She seemed annoyed when they were still looking at what to eat and walked off.

“At 2.25 a burger, looking is all we’ll be doing.” Gerry muttered as he looked over the menu.

“Don’t mind me, just grabbing a knife.” Emmett startled the family when he took a knife from their table. They stared at him either nervously or without a care. “Take it you haven’t decided yet?”

“Just leave it with me, son.” Joe smiled.

“No pressure. I’ll be over here if you need me.” He walked back to his table, just a couple feet from the family.

“What the hell does he need a knife for?” Erin asked suspiciously. 

“He’s eating his lunch.” James said.

“I bet he has his own knife, but he’s waiting to use it on us.” Y/n said as she looked nervously at the man.

“Y/n, I think he just didn’t have a knife.”

“God, but he has great teeth, doesn’t he?” Aunt Sarah mentioned. Michelle nodded.

“He really does, but tell the truth.” She turned to Sarah. “The hair, can you see a ginger tinge?”

“Now that you mention it…”

“I think he’s just a brunette, Michelle.” Y/n said before taking a sip of water.

“Christ only knows what’s lurking downstairs.” Michelle smirked. “And that is a concern.”

“Oh, but spending the rest of your life with a fugitive is less of a concern?” Erin asked. Michelle nodded again.

“Absolutely.” She pushed Erin to get up and she left the booth to go sit and talk with Emmett. As she did, Aunt Sarah pulled out her tarot cards.

“You really think this’ll work? That they’ll tell us what to do?” Mary asked her sister. 

“It’s worth a try.” She spread the deck out and had Mary pick out three cards, which she laid out. Sarah stared for a moment.

“Well, what do they say?” Mary asked.

“I can’t be certain, but I think they’re saying you should leave Gerry.” Joe laughed.

“I could have told you that years ago and I’m not psychic.”

“Granda, you tell her that now.” Y/n laughed. “All the time.”

“I’ve yet to hear anybody say anything to convince me that bringing that lad across the border with us is a good idea.” Gerry scoffed.

“Da, he’s coming.” Y/n pointed to Emmett, who was walking up to the table with Michelle. Michelle sat back down and Emmett stood at the end of the table.

“I really didn’t want to have to do this…” Emmett trailed off, sticking his hand in his back pocket.

“Get down! Everybody get down!” Erin yelled as she struggled to get under the table. The yelling accompanied with Emmett’s action made Y/n try to get as far from him as possible. This meant pressing into James’ side, which he accepted by putting an arm around her.

But instead of a weapon, Emmett pulled out a pack a cigarettes and a lighter.

“Is there something wrong with her?” Emmett asked Mary.

“Probably.” Y/n said, getting a chuckle from James and an eye roll from Mary. Erin got back up from the floor and looked at Emmett.

“Sorry, you were saying?”

“I didn’t want to put you in this position, but I can’t stress the seriousness of my situation.”

The waitress popped up next to him, looking at the family.

“Anything else?”

“Oh, d’you know what?” Emmett said to the waitress. “I wouldn’t mind a knickerbocker glory.”

The waitress walked away with an eye roll and Emmett leaned in, resuming their conversation.

“You need to help me out here.”

“We do that and we’re breaking the law.” Gerry sneered.

“Oh, you recognize the legal system of a brutal imperialistic oppressor, do ya?”

“If they can put me in jail for 20 years then yes, Emmett. Yes, I do!”

“Listen, have you killed anyone, son?” Joe asked. Y/n looked at him immediately for the answer.

“No. Well, at least not directly.”

“What the actual fuck.” She leaned into James more to get away from the man.

“There you go. So that settles it.”

“That doesn’t settle anything, Granda. In fact, I have more questions that I’m too scared to ask.”

“Y/n is right, Joe.” Gerry agreed. This started another fight between him and his father in law.

“You know what’s wrong with you, Gerry? You’re an awful wuss.”

“I’m not a wuss!”

“You’re afraid of your own shadow.”

“I’m not!”

“Then grow a set of balls and help a fella out!”

“I have a set of balls, thank you very much!” Erin and Y/n groaned in disgust.

“Ew. Seriously, Da?”

“You’re even afraid of that wee girl.”

“What wee girl?”

“That waitress! You wanted a cup of tea, she brought you a Coke, and you just sat there and said sweet Fanny Adams!”

Michelle snickered.

“Your grandad said fanny.”

“Shut up, Michelle.”

“Her customer service is shocking as well.” Emmett added. “Someone should say something.”

“Aye, Gerry!” Joe pointed to the man. “Gerry should say something!”

“I will! No problem! I’ll say something!” He looked for the waitress. She was standing at the counter doing seemingly nothing. “Excuse me. Excuse me, please.” It seemed the girl was annoyed as she walked over to the table.

“What?” She asked sharply.

“Erm, I just wanted to say that I, erm…” Gerry trailed off, a bit scared from her reaction. But then he saw Joe watching him and put himself together. “I ordered a tea, you brought me a Coke, and that’s not acceptable.”

The waitress looked down at the cup in front of him.

“But you drank the Coke.”

“That’s not the point. And your service has been nothing short of appalling, your attitude is worse. It’s simply not good enough!”

She looked shocked.

“I’ll… I’ll bring you a tea.”

“You do that!” Gerry nodded. The girl started to sniffle and everyone was shocked to see a tear start to slip. She told the table about how she got bad news today and couldn’t focus, but would bring Gerry a tea. She then ran off crying. Everyone slowly looked from the girl to Gerry.

“Well, there was absolutely no need for that.”

“Jesus, Gerry!”

“Da, that poor girl.”

“Aye, I can’t believe you did that, Daddy.”

“I…” Gerry looked at the table angrily. “You asked me to! How could I have known? Will you all just stop looking at me?!” He got up from the booth and walked away to the loo.

“I’ve had it with the lot of ye!” He turned back to look at his family. “And just for the record, back there, I was being an Australian tourist, okay? Australian! And I happen to think that my accent was flawless!” Then he stomped off.

Everyone looked at where he stood before slowly turning back to each other.

“Okay…” Mary said, trying to brush off the awkwardness. “We have to decide what to do here, one way or another. Let’s just vote.”

“Leave him!” Y/n unintentionally shouted.

“I second that.” Erin added firmly.

“I vote we take him for better or worse and all that.” Michelle smirked, making googly eyes at Emmett who was clearly uncomfortable by the actions.

“I’ve decided.” James muttered, looking at Emmett. “But I’m afraid to say what I’ve decided.”

“Why don’t we just toss a coin?” Mary sighed. She pulled out a coin. “So, heads, the wee man comes with us. Tails, we leave him.”

Everyone agreed and she flipped the coin.

“What is that? A fish?”

“A dolphin, is it?”

“It sort of looks like Moby Dick, actually.”

Mary huffed.

“Shite, I used a punt, didn’t I?”

“Whatever you used, it’s tails.” Y/n looked at Emmett with a polite but relieved smile. “Sorry sir, but we’re gonna have to punt you out. Get it, because me Ma used a punt. And the punt said to leave ya.”

Sarah asked if they could do it again but with “real money”. As they looked for a different coin, no one noticed that Emmett had left the table and Gerry took his place.

“It was him!” He shouted suddenly. “The mural on our house, the spray paint, it was Emmett.” He showed the tips of two fingers covered with wet black paint. 

“Sly wee bastard.” Mary hissed. They looked around for the man in question, only to find that he was no longer in the diner.

“There he is.” Someone pointed out the window. Emmett stood in the lot with the tent that Joe’s friend Jim had lent them. Nobody went out to stop him. They all just walked to the big window and watched as he jumped in the boot of an unsuspecting bloke’s car.

Joe swiftly looked at Gerry.

“I told you to look after that tent.”

“No, you didn’t! You told him to look after it!” Gerry pointed at James, who was feeling guilty about what had just happened.

“Ah, blame the wee’un. Big man!” Joe turned back to the window and watched the car drive off. “Jim’s second best tent. How am I going to break it to him?”

Y/n rubbed James’ back like he had done to her when they had first found Emmett. She leaned to whisper in his ear so Joe or Gerry wouldn’t hear.

“At least it wasn’t his best tent.”

~~~

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[your-daily-dose-of-fandoms]

Hi! Can I request a inosuke x reader where like how everyone would react if inosuke had scratches on his back after spending the night with the reader.

AN:

Hi! Thank you for your ask! I was tiptoeing if I should write this or not, hence my rules, but ended up writing this anyways. I thought this would be fitting to a song called "Everybody Talks" by Neon Trees, so I made this kind of a songfic. I hope you enjoy!

Fandom: Demon Slayer

Characters: Inosuke Hashibira

Warnings: Mentions of sex

Everybody Talks

“Hey baby, won't you look my way? I can be your new addiction”

It had been a rocky start, when you and Inosuke first met. He was the total opposite of you; hot-tempered, oblivious, and hungry individual, whereas you were calm and collected, attentive towards others. At least, that’s what you liked to think of yourself. In truth, despite being attentive and often staying calm in demanding situations, you were as hot-tempered as him. You were a good strategist, but that was taken away from your ability to tolerate the certain boar-headed boy. To prove this, during the several years you had travelled with the boys, none of them was spent in peace, you and Inosuke bickering with each other at every chance you got to. The boy got on your nerves, so much that you often would curse him to the ends of hell, murmuring curses under your breath every time he challenged you.

That’s why it was such a surprise to notice the scratched back of your rival after sharing a room together for a night

“Hey baby, what you gotta say? All you're giving me is fiction”

In hindsight, it wasn’t surprising that the both of you got along so well. You must add wood to the fire for it to flare to its full potential. That’s what you did to Inosuke. You were more like gasoline to his fire, letting him flame up and explode into enormous flames every time the two of you crossed paths. He saw everything as a challenge, and you were the best one for him to yet conquer. He couldn’t get enough of the explosions you caused within him, and he grew to be addicted to it, drawn in by your luring aura. After your heated arguments turned into heated make-out sessions, steam and vapor radiating off from your bodies during the quiet and cold nights after sparring, it was clear to him that you were not just an odd phase. He was quick to learn with your lead and he had fallen for you, tripped over the rocks you had set on his way. And it was almost natural to him.

“I'm a sorry sucker and this happens all the time I found out that everybody talks Everybody talks, everybody talks”

When Inosuke stepped into the training fields by the butterfly estate, with a smug smile on his face, as if he had won a lottery, he wanted nothing more than boast of his victory to others. In his opinion, he indeed had won a lottery. You had been so far the trickiest challenge he’d ever faced, and much to his disliking, he had enjoyed every single moment of it. What came as a surprise, were the stunned and perplexed looks of his comrades, staring at him as if he had just committed a crime and caught red-handed.

“Oh my, oh my...”, Shinobu gasped, covering her mouth with her hand, halting the conversation she was included in.

“Inosuke! Here, take this! I insist!”

Before Inosuke could notice, one of his comrades, Munjiro, was already standing before him, taking off his own haori in hurry, and covering Inosuke’s torso with it.

“What-!”, Before Inosuke could go on, had the certain thunderboy ran up to him already hitting his chest in despair, shouting out incoherent words with worryingly little breaths taken between them. Inosuke could make out words such as “unfair”, “traitor” and “asshole”, and bunch of explicit words which were not appropriate to list nor ones he understood. This made Inosuke to scoff and shake off the haori Gonpachiro had given him, as he grabbed Monitsu by shoulders, shaking him violently from side to side.

“OI! WHat the hell are you talking about?!”

Inosuke stopped, and Monitsu looked at him with a trembling lip, his nose already running, and plenty of tears dripping on his cheeks down to his chin. His eyes were glassy and red. The borders of his eyes were tinted with pink, as all he could whisper was:

“How could you? I thought it was bros before hoes...”

“It started with a whisper And that was when I kissed her And then she made my lips hurt I could hear the chit chat Take me to your love shack Mama's always gotta back track When everybody talks back”

That didn’t stop Inosuke, as the two of you had formed a habit of spending the nights together, of which everyone on the estate knew. Inosuke knew no shame, but often, when Inosuke would walk around the estate, searching for food or going to sparring, he’d surprise his comrades, sometimes even Shinobu, conversing with each other, only stopping in their tracks when Inosuke came in view. This bewildered Inosuke, as he did not know what the huss was about. At times, he’d wish that he’d have Monitsu’s enchanted hearing, so he could know, but on the other hand, he could not care less. He’d puff out his chest, raise his chin, and walk past them, continuing his journey. He’d swear he’d hear whispers following him after, tickling his back with their tiny breaths and silent words, but he would pay no mind to it, keeping up his pace.

At other times, especially if the one talking was Monitsu, the thunderboy would sprint away even at the sight of him, knowing if he stayed there longer, Inosuke would not leave him alone nor alive. The boar-headed boy had caught him gossiping once, and that did not end well. Though, escaping nor time did not help him forgive Inosuke any easier, being reminded of his potential wife’s fate every time he turned his back at him, -literally-, giving him a bitter taste in his mouth. This, unknowing to Inosuke, led to Monitsu casting him a teary-eyed look every time Inosuke wouldn’t notice, with such a venom in it that even Inosuke would halter if he were to see. In Inosuke’s mind, Zenitsu had apparently decided that the right way to treat him, was to honor his superior with silence.

“Hey honey, you could be my drug You could be my new prescription Too much could be an overdose All this trash talk make me itchin' Oh my, my shit Everybody talks, everybody talks Everybody talks, too much”

Oh.

So that was what this was about.

You had just explained Inosuke why everyone was acting so weirdly around him. After a week of suspicious glances being shot at him and tiny whispers tickling his ears, he had finally come to you, admitting his defeat and obliviousness with social interactions.

“Pffft-”, Inosuke snorted, taking off his boar head, as he began to cackle, holding his stomach with his arms, struggling to inhale in between the cackles. This took you by surprise. After the years of knowing him, you still couldn’t claim to know him throughout, as he was like a flag, changing its direction unexpectedly with the wind. Inosuke was now cackling and rolling on the floor, his raucous laughs bouncing off the walls of the room, filling the whole estate with it.

“Idiots! They are idiots! Don’t they know everyone does that!? Even the animals!” He managed to say, not understanding why such a natural thing was considered as a taboo between the corps. It made no sense to him. Why hide such a thing, that gave all of them an opportunity to live in the first place!?

Suddenly, the boy was on his feet, hitting his fist of his palm, as a lightbulb went on overhead.

“Master Inosuke must teach his apprentices a lesson!” Inosuke roared, comical sparkles surrounding him. You couldn’t resist a laugh leaving your lips, covering your mouth in the process, trying not to hurt his surprisingly fragile ego.

“Alright, go ahead, I’m sure they’ll appreciate it”, You encourage him, and off he went on his merry way, nodding enthusiastically to you. In a blink of an eye, he was already gone, and you were left alone, stifling with laughter.

“Oh my, they’re gonna end me for this”

[raggedy-dxctor]

the eternals with an ancient greek s/o

characters thena, kingo, makkari, druig, ajak, gilgamesh, sersi

pairing(s): ^^ x reader

thena

you're both basically celebrities, whoch she's not a big fan of, but ut can't be helped and she gor your attention as a result of it so she learns to tolerate it

sits with you under the stars and tells you all sorts of ancient stories

makes up songs and hums them to you

loves to go to usually busy spots when they're deserted and admire the views of the sunset and rise with you

kingo

loves being in the spotlight with you, his love for the fame pails incomparison to his love for you though

learns the lyre to play to you

throws lots of parties in your honour

loves sneaking into theaters to see plays, he doesn't really need to sneak in before he'd instantly be given the best view on the house, but he enjoys the excitement of it

sersi

not a big fan of the fame because she's worried about driving you away, but when you assure her it won't, she learns to enjoy it

loves to recite the famous love poems to you, like she has a ton stored away in her head that she can recite at any time

assigns you stuff based on your personality, like she'll assign you a flower, instrument, poem and song

enjoys going to the market with you, buying all sorts like foods, flowers and spices

makkari

loves to run away from the crowds with you and chill in an old abandoned house on the outskirts of the city

gets kingo to help her to teach you an ancient fork of sign language, honestly the eternals probably just created it themselves

enjoys sensing to the vibrations of you playing the lyre, she's memorised all pf the songs you know so she can follow along as you play

always greets you with flowers and weapons that she's pretended to steal, like bows, she hasn't really stolen them, they were probably gifted to her though

ajak

fiercely loyal and protective of you so she's not a big fan of crowds and attention

loves to sit on the walls of the city or on a hill outside the walls with you in jer embrace

this whole relationship thing is new to her so she's a bit rocky at it, but tries her absolute best and most times that's enough

feel like she'd hum songs to you as she plays with your hair and intertwines your fingers, it's a habit she's developed because she notices you find it sweet

druig

doesn't care for the attention too much, as long as it doesn't overwhelm either of you

unlike makkari, i feel like he will actually steal stuff for you, only small things that the stall owners probably wouldn't notice though

if there's something for you that genuinely catches his eye he'll buy it instantly, for full price

will do anything to protect you from harm, even if that means going against ajak's orders or arishem's plan

gilgamesh

not a fan of the crowds at all, all he wants is alone time wih you, his beloved companion

has all sorts of ancient greek petnames that he'll use, petnames of which he refuses to ever use again, even in the thousands of years after you've gone

suoer devoted lije he'll find out your favourite ingredients for things from dau one and will spend a good portion of his day making drinks with different combito impress you

bear hugs and hand holding constantly, neither of you ever leave eachother's sides

[mqverick]

i’m going back to 505

warnings; slight mature content

————————————————————————

“do you miss him?”

“i miss everything.”

____________________________________________

your roommate invites her boyfriend into the  room and introduces him to you. you take one look at each other and time literally stops for a moment. memories of a lifetime together pass in that brief space.

—

i’m going back to 505

if it’s a 7 hour flight or a 45 minute drive

you’d grown to believe that your new roommate was the living definition of over enthusiastic and ecstatic. almost everyone she met would grow to like her and want to spend time with her — even your own friends. there was that one time that you’d planned to go to the cinema with your best friend, and she’d asked whether your roommate could come along. not wanting to be rude, you'd replied with an ‘of course!’, the blood boiling inside your veins. it wasn’t like you weren't fond of her, no.

you were friends and she thought very highly of you, yet there would always be moments where you just wanted to grab the sharpest thing in the room and throw it right into her eye if that meant she would shut up. things got even worse the day she announced she was seeing somebody.

oh, god...

she’d been saying that one guy for almost a month, and today was the day she would be bringing him over at your place in order for the three of you to have dinner together and so that you could finally meet him. she was thrilled about you meeting him, constantly telling you how dreamy he was and that she really cared for your approval. you’d dismissively agreed to the damn dinner thing a week ago, while you were watching an interesting drama series on HBO. she had been watching it with you, or so you thought, because at some point, she repeatedly began to poke your shoulder with her finger.

annoyed by the fact that she wouldn’t stop, you’d turned your head to her, raising your eyebrows questioningly, and that was when she dropped the bomb. that specific moment, you’d been so tired and zoned out that you'd subconsciously replied with a ‘yes, i’d love that’, which was followed by loud squeals and tight hugs from her.

only as the days passed did you realize the problem you’d gotten yourself into, but there was no avoiding it anymore, so instead of whining about it or cancelling the plans the last minute, you forced yourself to bear a few hours with said boyfriend and lovestruck roommate.

it was seven o’clock when the bell rang, signaling his arrival to the apartment.

“on it!” your roommate called from her room, sprinting in the living room and almost tripping over the small rug in her hurry to open the door before you. you were in your own room, brushing your freshly-straightened hair and checking yourself out in the mirror. damn, that sweater looks freaking gorgeous.

“come on in, babe, she’s coming in a sec,” you heard her sing-song. you rolled your eyes before letting out a deep sigh and reminding yourself that you were a woman with manners, which meant that you would face life’s difficulties in the kindest way possible, even if that meant that your single ass that lived in coffee and sandwiches would have to tolerate watching two people in love shamelessly make out in front of you.

“all right, roommie! ready to meet your so called boy—”

you stopped dead in your tracks as your eyes caught the frame of a familiar boy with wild, dark curls, mesmerizing green eyes and soft, pink lips. the frame of a boy that was a poignant reminder of the biggest heartbreak you had to go through during your twenty-four years of life.

in my imagination you’re waiting lying on your side

with your hands between your thighs

february 14th was the date you met him. valentine’s day, as cliché as that may sound to someone. you hated that day with passion, not only because of the constant sting you would feel whenever you saw all those happy couples be parts of intense pda sessions in public places — whereas you were single — but also because of the pointless meaning of that day. you believed that if there was actual love out there, it wouldn’t need a specific day of the year to be shown and celebrated.

you sighed as you stirred your coffee tiredly, chin in your hand, eyes almost fluttering shit as you tore the little sugar bag open and put it in your drink. typical way to spend valentine’s day; alone at your favorite coffee shop, glancing around at all the other couples that were having all sorts of special cakes and coffees. your eyes traveled down to your plain black coffee and an annoyed groan escaped your lips as your phone's screen went black. of course it’d run out of battery...

“this day is the worst,” you mumbled as you got up and looked for a free booth. “um, excuse me, could i sit here for a bit? my phone’s dead and i really need to charge it,” you said to a man that was sitting in the corner booth. he turned around and you were met with the most beautiful features you'd ever seen on someone. he was wearing a light pink sweater and gray jeans, a cup of coffee in his hand as he nodded and moved a little to make room for you to sit.

“i hate this day, you know,” he suddenly spoke.

“me too! it’s absolutely pointless, right?”

“yeah. if someone is in love with their partner, they should celebrate it every day instead of remembering it once in a year.”

his statement made you gasp. never had you thought that you’d find a person who would have the same beliefs as you. “excuse me for asking that, but do you really think so or are you just saying that because you don’t have a girlfriend? or boyfriend, you know.”

he shrugged. “a hint of both, but mostly the first one.”

you chuckled. he was cute. “didn’t catch your name there, stranger.”

“timothée.”

“damn, that sounds royal.”

“not so royal with these bags under my eyes,” he laughed, pointing at the black bags under his eyes. he took a sip from his coffee and the two of you began talking and talking, until it’d gone eleven o’clock and you hadn’t even realized. instant panic overwhelmed you as you unplugged your phone from the charger and shot up from the booth.

“call me then, timothée,” you smirked after writing your number on his napkin with a pen you always carried in your bag. maybe that valentine's day wouldn't be so bad after all...

back at your apartment, you threw your boots in the living room before plopping yourself on the couch and grabbing the remote in your hands. a documentary about forests began playing, but the sounds from the tv faded into the background immediately in your head as you found yourself thinking about a certain person you’d only just met. he was an actor, loved black coffee, mostly listened to rap songs but wouldn’t mind spending a relaxing evening listening to french ballads. oh, he was half-french, and you even made him say something to you in french, his accent coming out sexier than you’d expected.

the vigorous buzzing of your phone snapped you out of your thoughts as you saw an unknown number lighting up in your screen. a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, you knew exactly who it was.

“hello?”

“hi there, it’s timothée from the coffee shop.”

“oh, hey, timothée! how are you?”

“good, good. currently in my apartment. y’know, i was thinking about this girl i kind of met today.”

you chuckled, your fingers toying with the hem of your sweater as you felt a blush creep up your cheeks. “oh yeah? tell me about her.”

“she hates valentine’s day just as much as i do. she’s very beautiful and i was wondering if i could see her again tonight at that italian restaurant near my place. ugh, sorry, that sounded really weird, i was hoping it’d come out romantic and not creepy, but i achieved the exact opposite, let me rephrase—”

“speaking on behalf of her, she's a hundred percent in.”

stop and wait a sec

oh when you look at me like that my darling

it'd been three weeks since you and timothée started dating. you were spending your first night over at his place, which was definitely something scary and new to you. not that you didn't have any past relationships, but they weren't exactly serious to you, plus there was that commitment issue you had. nevertheless, you wanted to be prepared for any kind of situation that could occur, so you'd shaved your legs and taken a refreshing bath.

you knocked on the door of his apartment only to be met with him looking like a disaster, hair messed up, some kind of red sauce spilled all over his white shirt, dripping down to his sweatpants as his eyes scanned yours worriedly.

"you were supposed to come over in twenty minutes," was all he said, his voice cracking in the end of the sentence as he ran his fingers through his curls and muttered something in french that you knew it meant 'fuck'.

"came early. why do you look like death, babe?" you asked, stepping into the apartment and closing the door behind you as he went in the kitchen, which looked even worse than him. you chuckled softly at the realization of him trying to cook for you and you followed him, sitting down on one of the chairs that were around the table.

"this is terrible. i thought that it'd be nice to cook your favorite food and surprise you, but i'm this close to burning the whole place down. i look disgusting whereas you look like you were made out of a dream and it's totally acceptable if you changed your mind about dating me," he ranted, glancing everywhere but you.

"woah, there, timmy, calm down, please," you laughed, placing your hands on his shoulders and forcing him to look at you. you leaned in and pressed a surprisingly sweet kiss on his lips, your arms now wrapped around his waist as you pulled him closer to you, his stained shirt dirtying your own.

"aren't you utterly grossed out?"

"aw, baby," you murmured against his lips, "i could never be. this is the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me and i could feel nothing but appreciation and thankfulness for you."

"do you mean that?"

instead of replying, you kissed him again, your lips melting against his as his hands found their way to your back, his fingers lifting up your shirt in order for his palms to rest against your cold skin, his thumbs rubbing small circular patterns on the small of your back. you deepened the kiss, your tongue licking his bottom lip before slipping into his mouth and caressing the tip of his. timmy groaned at that, pulling you even closer to him, his now growing bulge pressing against your thigh as your fingers tugged at the curls on the nape of his neck.

"are you aware of the fact that you're making out with me while my tomato-covered shirt is staining yours?" he asked against your lips and you pulled away abruptly, crossing your arms and glaring at him. he looked at you with confusion and raised an eyebrow as of to ask why you looked mad.

"okay, you don't want to have sex with me. is that it?"

"what?! no, of course, i do! i mean, only if you want me to, i'm not going to force you into having sex with me if you don't feel ready yet—"

"timmy, shut up for a second and let me speak. don't ruin the moment and lead me to your bedroom."

he gulped and took your hand in his, taking you to his bedroom. it wasn't that small but it wasn't huge either. there was a bed in the middle of it, a wardrobe at the side, some posters on the walls and a round rug covering most of the floor.

"your bedroom's cute," you stated before stray hung your lips on his again, picking up from where you'd left earlier. timmy picked you up and laid you on his bed, crawling on top of you as he buried his face in your neck, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses from your earlobe all the way down to your collarbone. you bit your lip in order to suppress a moan, but he noticed and stubbornly began sucking on the valley of your breasts until you couldn't hold it back anymore. the sound of your cry made him rock hard against his pants, his hands grabbing the hem of your shirt and pulling it gently over your head before throwing it down on the floor. he did the same with his, his fingers ghosting against the clasp of your bra. you let out a frustrated groan and urged him to take it off, to which he obeyed, pushing the straps off of your shoulders as he took a moment to admire you.

"you're so beautiful, mon amour," he whispered.

"i want you, timmy."

he placed a soft peck on your swollen lips before unbuttoning your jeans with a hungry look in his eyes. you'd never been more turned on in your life, your back aching as his hands finally cupped your breasts. you felt embarrassed for being so impatient, but the way he made you feel like you were on top of the world not only aroused you, but almost made you slip out the l-word.

well, that was new...

what did you expect

i'd probably still adore you

with my hands around your neck

you told him you loved him a week later.

the two of you had gone bowling on a friday evening and he was being horrible at even managing to hit a single pin. the ball would always veer off the lane and go into the gutters. he'd stated he hated that game so much, which was adorable given to the fact that he would pout ever time after saying that. you loved his pout. you loved everything he did, you loved him. you were now certain of your feelings for him, yet too scared to say them out loud.

"it's your turn, again," he said with a dramatic eye-roll.

"eat my dust, timo."

"i've eaten the whole sahara desert by now. can we just stop and eat some fries?"

"admit i'm capable of beating your ass and maybe i'll consider it."

"you are more than capable of beating my ass. fries?"

you laughed and nodded. after a few moments, you came back to the table you were sitting with a bunch of baskets with fries and ketchup. timmy rubbed his hands and grabbed two baskets, opening the ketchup dips before shoving quickly several fries into his mouth. you have him the middle finger before taking a bite from your own fries.

"hey, what was that for?" he asked while chewing.

"first of all, mouth closed when you're eating. second of all, i'm staring to believe that you love these french fries more than me and it's honestly sort of offensive," you joked.

"mm, that's impossible."

you stared blankly at him. there were so many things that you wanted to say, tell him you loved him and that he was the first serious boyfriend of yours, your first serious relationship, tell him you were thankful for valentine's day for bringing him in your life. tell him you loved the way his eyes would sparkle up every time he was happy or excited, the way he was softly panting in order to catch his breath whenever he laughed, the way he would let our husky breaths when he was feeling turned on, the way his ears would perk up every time you found a new nickname for him or simply called him 'mon chérie'. you wanted to tell him that he was gorgeous inside and out and that you could spend your entire life telling him how much you adored him.

but it was him that spoke first.

"i love you."

three simple words, yet so meaningful and complicated. you didn't know what love was, though it was a very used and significant word that people used all the time. honestly, you didn't even know if you could ever define love, because you were sure that it differed from person to person. that was, until you met him. suddenly, everything clicked and you could finally understand all those cliché movies your best friend had forced you into watching.

you felt like one of the main characters of an old, sappy romantic movie. your heartbeat had quickened alarmingly much, you were sure your face and neck had reddened, and there was this amazing, newfound feeling inside you that had freed a bunch of butterflies in your stomach.

"was that too soon to say? did i scare you off?" timmy asked after noticing that you'd been staring at him with your mouth agape for two whole minutes of pregnant silence. the moment he was about to start apologising and go for his usual stammer speech, you smiled the biggest grin you'd smiled in years and said those three words he'd been waiting to hear the entire time;

"i love you."

or i did last time i checked

not shy of a spark

"it's your biggest moment, timmy! i'm honestly under the impression that i'm more excited than you," you stated, hitting his arm softly with your fist as the two of you were sitting on the couch, snuggled up close to each other. timmy was supposed to start filming 'call me by your name' the following day, but he seemed rather scared and unwilling to do so, even though he'd gotten over-thrilled once he'd been informed that he'd gotten elio's role.

"i'll have to fuck a peach!"

"so? you're literally going to pretend that you're a horny seventeen-year-old. don't tell me you didn't do weird stuff when you were horny and that age, i most likely won't believe you."

"ew!"

you snickered and he huffed in annoyance, removing his arms from around you.

"now, you're just being dramatic for no reason, babe," you said as you grabbed his hands and put them back in their previous placement. he didn't say anything and you had to start kissing his jawline teasingly in order to earn the slightest hint of reaction out from him.

"i don't want you to see me fucking a peach, it's embarrassing."

"you could fuck an orange and i'd still find you hot."

"is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"a meteor could hit us and i'd still be horny."

"okay, you're not helpful at all," he laughed, pushing you gently off of him, since you'd crawled on his lap and had started attacking his neck with wet kisses. you complained and pouted at him, low-key loving teasing timmy whenever you got the chance.

"chérie, you'll ace in that movie, it's a guarantee. everyone will love it, you."

a knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark

frightened by the bite though it's no harsher than the bark

middle of adventure such a perfect place to start

you'd never been the jealous type of girlfriend who would want to keep her boyfriend limited in the four walls of your house, but you suppose there was always a first time for something — either that'd be pleasant or horrible. basically, it started when a huge crowd of mad fans began following you and timothée as you were heading to a bagel shop for your breakfast. their bewildered calls of your boyfriend's name and loud yells had almost drawn the last straw to the point that you wanted to ignore timmy's pleads about staying calm, turn around and yell at them to simply —

no, you were too kind for that.

regardless of his reassurances that he only loves you — no matter how many people out there wanted him — you'd grown insecure. even other celebrities were hitting on him or throwing thirst traps during interviews, which was something that twisted your gut every damn time. you hated that version of yourself with passion. on the one hand, you were extremely happy that timmy was getting recognized and successful, but on the other hand, that toxic hint of jealous wished he was just a normal person, or at least that people would treat him that way.

he was always kind at his fans, a thing you loved about him. you loved seeing him with kids, all euphoric and amused, signing autographs and giving hugs. he was so cute, loving and patient. you knew that sooner or later that moment would eventually come and you would have to deal with the press and paparazzi coming after your relationship with timothée every five seconds, meaning that you would have to hide every time you wanted a moment of privacy with him. for numerous times, you'd told yourself that you'd be fine with that, figure out a solution to your problems after having talked it out with timothée first, which you did, but all the 'i love you's' and 'we'll go through it together' promises weren't convincing enough.

ugh.

you despised the fact that even though he was trying his hardest to let you know how much you meant to him every day, you would still have that constant feel of fear over losing him. for fuck's sake, he was adored by a total of 75% people on earth, including equally famous people and much more beautiful girls, yet he was dating someone insignificant like you. or so you thought. if you could look yourself through his eyes, every single doubt you'd ever raised about your appearance and personality would disappear in a matter of seconds. to him, you were the prettiest, most charismatic and amazing human being he'd ever laid eyes on. he loved all of you; your imperfections, your temper, the way you always got emotional about things that weren't even sad.

sometimes he wished you could see how perfect you were. perfect in your own way.

a successful, hard-working woman that had to go through many rejections, mistakes and failures, but always found the courage to stand up and be a better person. he wished you wouldn't put yourself down all the time, because he wanted you to be anything but humble when it came to describing yourself. he wanted you to brag about your character and personality.

frankly, you wanted to get the chance to see yourself the way he saw you.

maybe then you would put all that newfound jealousy in a box, lock it and throw the key somewhere where nobody would ever find it again. two or three fights had occurred in your relationship, not serious ones though. you needed to accept that jealousy was something human, and perhaps find a way to tone it down, otherwise you were under the impression that you would go absolutely mad.

i'm going back to 505

if it's a 7 hour flight or a 45 minute drive

you remembered how your first date had gone. having watched all those movies, you expected it to be out-of-the-world fantastic and romantic, yet those expectations were never really met. it'd begun great, the two of you were eating at some italian restaurant he'd suggested, drinking wine and telling each other more stuff about your lives. it all got screwed up when at some point, you'd gotten somewhat tipsy and had started laughing hysterically while hearing timmy's high school memories and rap persona — which thankfully, he had abandoned.

your laugh was contagious to him, but everybody else in the restaurant was eyeing you weirdly, mostly because you looked like you were possessed by some kind of demon, chortling your lungs out as your hand kept slapping your knees every two seconds.

eventually, you ended up wanting to reach across the table for timmy's hand, but your movements were so shaky that instead of taking his hand in yours, you accidentally hit his drink, which was spilled all over his crotch area and legs. the laughter died down in your throat once you realized what you'd done, and you quickly gathered as many napkins as you could, getting up from your seat to dry him off.

"oh my god, this has never happened to me before, i'm so sorry!" you apologized worriedly.

timothée only laughed.

"it's okay, i can pay and go change, my apartment isn't that far away."

"i ruined your clothes, i think it's only fair if i pay for the food."

"there's no way i'm letting you pay on our first date."

"there is."

"s'not."

"yes."

"no."

"yes, there is, unless you want me to spill the remaining of my food on you as well."

with a loud groan, he agreed to paying half and half. you accompanied him back to his home, apologizing about the unfortunate event throughout the entire walk. he assured you that it was fine, but you still felt mortified for ruining his clothes and making him walk down the streets looking like he's peed on his pants.

as the two of you reached your destination, you awkwardly stood at the front door steps, facing each other, waiting for either of you to break the silence.

"i had a pretty good time. first time spending my valentine's like that," timmy said, giving you a contained smile. your own grin made him smile harder, an evident red blush on his cheeks and tips of his ears. you tried to muffle a giggle that eventually escaped from your lips when you looked down at his wet crotch, which didn't go unnoticed by him. he attempted to cover it with his hands in embarrassment, his eyes squeezed shut as he cursed in french.

"i know that whatever you just said meant 'shit', chalamet," you teased.

"i feel like i'm trying so hard to be attractive right now but the spilled wine is ruining it."

you laughed again, leaning down and reaching for his hands, placing them around your neck as you made him look up at you. his jaw dropped slightly, green eyes staring right into yours — and damn, his lips looked so soft and pink and kissable, but you weren't going to kiss him, not just yet.

"this was the best valentine's day ever. good night, timothée," you said as you placed a soft kiss on his cheek, leaving him dumbfounded, staring at you make your way back to your own apartment.

in my imagination you're waiting lying on your side

with your hands between your thighs

you and timmy had been dating for nearly a year, and you were at the point in your relationship where you were ready to finally move in together. you'd been ready for a while, although you absolutely refused to move in with him until you surpassed your one year point. there was no real reason behind that logic, just that you'd always told yourself that you should wait at least a year until you move in together. though it practically felt like you'd already moved in together, seeing as you spent countless days and nights at each other's places, the thought of actually going for it was terrifying.

for you, it always felt like that official, caps-locks worthy title that packed a lot of meaning behind it.

as mentioned, you'd never really been fond of commitment and no matter how much you loved timothée, you knew that deep down inside you there would always be that part of yourself that would continuously bring up those damned 'what if's'. though at some point you'd escaped the bubble, even thought that you had moved past it and that you were finally able to commit yourself to him...

...it just came back — out of the blue.

he was the one that proposed the idea first, which you had taken into deep consideration and had ended up agreeing to eventually doing it whenever the two of you felt ready for that big step. a step that would make you exclusive. honestly, you weren't afraid of moving in. never moving out was what was scaring you the most.

"baby, i think we're ready," timmy said at some point while you were watching a boring documentary together. you knew exactly what he was talking about. regardless, you asked for clarification.

"i think so, too," you replied truthfully. you had given it some thought — you had to rip the damn bandage off and move in with your boyfriend — what was the worst thing that could happen?

"i want you to be a hundred percent sure about this decision, mon amour. i don't want this to feel pressured and forced, and if you want to wait more, you shouldn't be afraid to tell me to back off."

"no, timmy, i think we should do it. i love you so much and i truly want to move in with you."

"you sure sure?"

"yes," you replied with a genuine smile, snuggling closer to him and pecking his lips. "i am sure sure."

but i crumble completely when you cry

it seems like once again you've had to greet me with goodbye

teen whole months after having moved in together in a small (yet beautiful) house, it happened.

life had been amazing with timmy as your roommate. you loved waking up next to him, eating breakfast together, returning home to find him sitting on a couch with a smirk on his face, nodding towards the kitchen, where homemade food would always be on the table. it was literally refreshing. you didn't know how, why or when it'd started, but one day, you caught yourself trying to sabotage all that progress.

it was a winter afternoon; that timothée was sure of — seeing as he never really recovered from that day. he remembered it very detailed and the memory was definitely one of his last joyous ones.

he'd been working all day on set, so once he finished, he "happened" to be passing by that one jewellery store he'd lately been persistently taking glances at. he went in, looking straight for the engagement rings, his eyes scanning carefully the variety of the pieces, until they subconsciously locked into a classic, three stone engagement ring with two dazzling tapered baguettes that framed the centre cushion diamond stunningly. after having asked a man about more details (and despite the fact that it was hella expensive), he ended up buying it, a huge smile plastered on his face at the thought of proposing to you. he'd been thinking about that moment for months, but never really brought it up or dropped any hints, because he didn't want to scare you. for some reason, that day, he just felt like he had to buy it — and even if you told him that it was too soon for engagement, he would keep it and feel fine with your decision. obviously, he couldn't force you into getting engaged if you weren't ready for it.

little did he know that that smile he had would completely drop the moment he entered the house.

you were standing in the living room with your arms crossed, your foot tapping nervously on the floor as you bit your lip in attempt to hold back tears. instant anxiousness rushed through him and he hurried to get close to you, his hands grasping your arms worriedly.

"baby, what's wrong, what happened, are you alright, did anything —"

"we need to talk," you said coldly.

"did i do something wrong?"

"i just need to talk to you."

timothée hesitantly nodded as he took a seat on the couch. you opened your mouth as if to say something, but the words died down in your throat. your eyes began to water and you ran your fingers through your hair, trying to focus on the ceiling because saying it while looking at him — no, it was too fucking hard, especially with that look he had in his eyes.

oh, little did he know...

"i know you are going to hate me for this. all i can say is sorry," you began, biting on your bottom lip a little bit harder than intended. timothée got up and tried to get close to you, but you backed away, distancing yourself from him. his face fell, emotions such as overwhelming sadness, fear and worry written all over it. his lips were parted, mouthing soft and quiet 'what's wrong's', and you honestly couldn't hold it back anymore. the first tears started rolling down your cheeks, only alarming him more.

"why are you crying, chérie? you're scaring me."

"i want to break up with you."

there. you said it, you finally said it.

as soon as those seven words came out of your mouth, something inside timothée broke. he didn't know what it was, but it felt like a really painful tug in his heart that threatened to cause him a breakdown. you couldn't be serious — not when...

"what?" he asked, still in shock and disbelief.

"you heard me, timothée, please don't make me say it again."

you were dealing a devastating blow, your eyes red and puffy as you let out muffled sobs. it needed to be done for both of you, otherwise you would end up miserable.

you knew it didn't quite make sense, but the past few weeks you had finally come in terms with what was happening, how fast your relationship was moving and honestly, it was overwhelming, panicking you — he deserved to know that, the truth. it wasn't like yours stopped loving him or something, it was just the fact that you realized that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't leave behind the commitment issue, and because you loved timmy so much, you didn't want to hold him back. he deserved the whole truth — and probably someone that wouldn't be so fucking freaked out all the time.

"w—why, did i do something? did i hurt you? have i been a bad boyfriend? please, tell me what i've done wrong and i'll try everything i can to fix it — i can't lose you, i'm not going to survive this. please, tell me you're joking," he begged, his own breakdown coming shortly after yours, making things worse for you. he felt as if he'd been punched in the gut — this couldn't be happening — it couldn't —

"you didn't do anything wrong, timothée. it's just that i feel like we're both going to be unhappy in this relationship, and i don't want to hold you back. you should find someone and love them and live and die for them because that's your way. besides... timmy, i don't deserve you."

"that's crap. you and i both know it. i can't love anyone else, i only love you."

"i'm so sorry, timmy, i'm so, so sorry. one day you will see that i'm right and you'll thank me for it."

being too shocked to talk, he let out sobs and shaky breaths, his usually tired/sleepy-looking eyes already red and puffy. it broke your heart to see him like that and you wanted to hug him for one last time, kiss his pain away — but you couldn't. it'd only worsen things further.

silence fell at some point; he'd given up.

you didn't know if you were relieved or frightened by it.

"i should go," he eventually spoke, quietly and weakly. you were about to start protesting, but he cut you off by shaking his hand in the air dismissively. "you can stay here, take the house. i'll come by tomorrow to pack my stuff. you can text me when you'll be out so that you won't have to see me."

i'm always just about to go and spoil a surprise

take my hands off of your eyes too soon

the following week has been truly devastating and shattering for you to handle. you absolutely despised coming back home from work and  realize that it was getting emptier and emptier as the days passed — he really was moving out. that was why you hated breakups so much; one of the biggest misconceptions around then was that the person who instigated the split never suffered as much as the person they broke it off with. wrong, wrong, wrong. just because you were the one who decided it was time to end things didn't mean you didn't struggle in the aftermath. in fact, you'd very much done so. for the entire week, you barely got yourself to eat anything, always lying on your bed with dark bags under your swollen eyes, which had been so fucking tired of crying.

one day, you opened the drawer of his nightstand, hoping he'd left something — anything — in there, just so you could keep it, have something that would remind you of him and all the good times in your relationship, which admittedly was an unhealthy thing to do, but couldn't help yourself anyway.

as you hesitantly opened it, you found a small velvety box in it. no, you thought, no this can't —

you took it in your hands and mentally prayed to god for it not to be an engagement ring, but once you fully opened it, you came into sight with the brightest and most beautiful ring you'd ever seen. your heart must've literally split in two that moment. you felt nauseous and in the mood to hit your head in a wall for being so stupid. the poor man was going to propose to you and you broke up with him instead. how could you have been so oblivious, how could you not have noticed...

your entire body went rigid for a moment, then crumbled completely, hot, steaming tears running down your cheeks as you placed the box back in the drawer.

the following day, when you opened sais drawer, you noticed that it was gone.

i'm going back to 505

if it's a 7 hour flight or a 45 minute drive

"babe, aren't you going to say anything? you've been staring at my roommate for an awfully long time and it's honestly sort of creepy," your roommate whispered in timothée's ear, who was just as frozen as you. she then looked at you and shrugged with a chuckle. "i don't know what's gotten into him. he's usually normal."

your jaw was slightly dropped and your heart was definitely ten times faster than usual.

"i..." timothée spoke after a moment, his throat dry, cheeks covered by an evident red blush.

"please, say something you guys. i'm terrified."

"uh, hey, nice to meet you."

you were brave enough to talk first, take a few steps closer and reach for his — seemingly — motionless hand. you shook it for a few seconds, electricity running through your fingers. it seemed like the last time you touched him was million of ages ago, when in reality, it'd only been less than a freaking year. you missed the softness and warmth of his skin, the way his fingers seemed like they were designed just to entangle with yours — it was all so overwhelming and you didn't want to let go of his hand.

"likewise. i'm... timothée," he said lowly, his mouth still agape.

"do you guys know each other? like have you ever met or something?"

"no!"

"no!"

you both said simultaneously, shaking your heads a tad more aggressively than needed. your roommate muttered a silent 'okay' that indicated she wasn't entirely convinced but didn't want to question anything further. it seemed impossible for your eyes to leave his — every memory of the two of you so fresh yet so old. you could still remember the way he used to kiss you, the way he used to hug you so tightly you thought you might burst. you wanted to cry.

"you sure you haven't met before? like, i know timmy's famous and stuff, but i'm getting vibes that you know each other on a personal level."

"i can assure you that we've never met before, roommie," you replied reassuringly. all the memories you'd built with timothée started playing in your mind like black and white flashbacks. oh, how little did she know... you looked back at him only to realize that he hadn't stopped staring at you for a single second. so many unspoken words and 'i never stopped loving you's' echoing in each other's heads as your completely oblivious roommate reached up to kiss her boyfriend's — your boyfriend's — cheek. so many undone actions...

in my imagination you're waiting lying on your side

with your hands between your thighs

...and a smile

FIN.

[ilovekazuhaa]

How it would be like being besties with Dolores!!

This was requested to me via dms. Sorry it took me so long to get to this. I’ve had so many requests lately, hope it was worth the wait!!!

At first, when you met Dolores she seemed really closed off and quiet, but as you two got closer she opened up a lot more.

She always rants to you about her day, needing someone to confide in.

Since it’s hard for her to keep secrets, you know all the drama about the Madrigal family.

“Wait, so you’re telling me Pepa is pregnant? And Luisa has a pet donkey now?!”

Every night, she would leave her door open a crack to hear if you got home safe.

Whenever you called her name, even if it was said with a faint breath, Dolores would hear it, and come running.

She knew when you were nervous, hearing your racing heartbeat. She would put her hand on your hand, holding it tightly. Hearing your heart rate slow down, she’d nod and smile at you.

When the noise was just too much for Dolores, she would find you, wherever you were, grab your hand and take you to her room.

Her room was soundproof, but she always wanted you there with her. The only noise she could tolerate was yours.

You two felt comfortable in each other’s silence, it was almost as if you could communicate without words.

You always tried to speak softer and quieter when you were around Dolores. She noticed it and loves you very much for that.

When people get too loud around her, and you see her covering her ears from all the noise, you throw anything in your reach at the source of the noise.

Looking back angrily, people usually responded with “what the hell!” and you just respond with a simple “shut up” as you looked at Dolores for approval.

She smiled back at you as she took her hands off her ears, shaking her head.

When she first met you, she knew you would be best friends. Sure, you seemed really social and fun, but she saw behind that facade, or better put, she heard behind your facade.

She could always differentiate anyone else’s cries from yours. So when you tried to drown in your own sadness alone, you always heard a knock at your front door.

“I’m here, and I brought snacks.”

“I’m only opening the door for the snacks” you said, jokingly, allowing her inside.

You vented to Dolores when the time felt right. Other than that, you never really spoke to her about your feelings.

Dolores was an amazing dancer, so she offered to teach you some of her skills. At first, you were terrible but as she taught you more, you started becoming good at it. Looks like she was a pretty good teacher.

“No your hand goes here and your leg goes here” she said, showing you how to pose. You stood in an awkward, uncomfortable position, sparking a soft giggle from her.

“Hey! What’s so funny?” you said, holding the position she showed you. “It’s like this right?”

“Yes but you’re too tense, loosen up a bit.”

Relaxing, you fixed yourself, looking more normal now. You finally got the hang of it and if you were being honest, it was fun having Dolores teach you to dance.

You also often sang with her. It mostly consisted of soft singing for obvious reasons but it was a special thing the two of two did together.

One of you would just randomly break into song and the other would catch on and join. It was the reason you two got so close in the first place.

When she told you that Mariano was going to marry Isabela, she was a total wreck. She cried for hours and you just sat there with her the whole time, as she laid on your lap and you stroked her hair as you kept her company.

Honestly, you would’ve told Isa to call off the engagement if Dolores hadn’t begged you not to.

“No… Isa loves him too. She has a right to be happy. Please don’t tell her anything.”

Your heart broke. How could you not? She was your best friend and you couldn’t stand seeing her like this.

Always putting other people before herself. That was your Dolores, alright. You just wished someone loved her the way you did.

In efforts to cheer her up, you wanted to do something special with her.

“Fine. I won’t tell him. But let’s have a sleepover and watch movies and eat snacks together, okay?” you said.

“Sure, I’d like that” she responded.

Whenever there was a formal event (ex. Antonio’s gift ceremony) you would make funny faces at her, wiggling your eyebrows and sticking your tongue out. It never failed to make her laugh.

But when Dolores laughed hard, she would hold her stomach and slap her knee. You thought it was the funniest thing ever.

Anytime you’d play a game with Dolores, she’d beat you everytime, no matter what game it was.

“Checkmate” the girl said, trying to hold back a smile.

“What! Again! How are you always beating me at this?!” you responded, shocked.

“Let’s try cards, I can beat you in a game of goldfish for sure.”

With no protest, Dolores nodded and played a game of goldfish with you.

You thought you had secured your victory when you heard her say “Go fish” covering her mouth with the cards so she could hide her smile.

“Are you for real?! Dolores teach me your ways! Please!” you said, dropping down to your knees and putting your hands together, almost as if you were praying as you begged her.

She genuinely laughed at the sight. It was hilarious to her. Honestly without your company she would be pretty lonely.

Times like this made her really happy to have you as her best friend.

You always knew she had something to spill when she shut her mouth tightly, raised her eyebrows, and fidgeted with the cloth on the table.

“Dolores, lay it on me. We can’t have you like this all day” you said, with a knowing look.

She quickly got up, took your hand, and pulled you outside.

“You can’t tell anyone about this” the girl said cautiously as she put her hand on her ear, showing that she was trying to listen for anyone coming.

You laughed. “Dolores, of course I won’t tell anyone. What kind of friend would I be if I did?”

[carters-things]

Hi! Ily writing and I was wondering if you could do Matt inspired by my tears ricochet by Taylor Swift please? Maybe he fakes his death and the reader starts to become really sad and cries a lot and she bascially cuts everyone out of her life including Karen and Foggy but then Matt comes at back when she's at her home or his grave. Change anything you like!

ok bestie this one was HARD! I'm not a huge t-swift fan so listening to this on repeat for the past like 3 days has been a rough time for me lol But this is really angsty and I hope you enjoy it!

Send me your song/fic requests!

“A place for all those whose bodies couldn’t come home”

You stood at the weather faded head stone, the inscription reading blurry through tear filled eyes. The dull ache in your chest has remained persistent since Matt died, today however, the loneliness is just short of debilitating. Today is Matt’s birthday… You had a whole day planned for the two of you, but instead you did it all alone in an attempt to feel him close to you again. The side of your bed that belonged to Matt was ice cold when you woke up, a stiffening reminder of his absence. The food at his favorite restaurant tasted bitter, and the music in the park you both loved to listen to now sounds off key. As you knelt down you placed your hand on the cold stone, “I miss you Matty…”

“We miss you too, buddy” A familiar voice rang behind you. Foggy and Karen joined your sides at the grave. You let out a sigh as you began to get up to leave. You haven’t spoken to them since the funeral, and you didn’t want to start now. Karen’s hand reached out, grabbing your wrist to keep you from leaving.

“Please y/n.. Don’t go…” She whispered. A small part of you missed her and Foggy, but the more time you spent with them the more you missed Matt. It was impossible to be around them without the hollow feeling inside of you growing deeper and deeper. Everything they said and did reminded you of all the times when Matt was around.

“I can’t do this with you guys today.” You pull your wrist away, Karen’s hand falling to her side.

“You always say that. You don’t have to push us away. You aren’t alone y/n, you weren’t the only one who lost Matt. You aren’t the only one hurting here.” Foggy’s voice has the slightest undertone of frustration.

“He was your best friend. I get that. However, Matt is gone, that doesn’t mean you need to be friends with me anymore. We all know you only tolerated me because I was involved with Matt.”

“That is the farthest thing from the truth, and you know that. We love you and we miss you. Please, don’t shut us out.” Karen says softly, the lump in her throat adds a slight rasp to her words.

“I think I should go.” You pick up your jacket and reach for your bag when Foggy places a hand on your shoulder.

“No, stay, we’ll go. Just please know, we are always here for you. You were our friend just as much as Matt was.” Foggy removes his hand as he walks away with Karen. If things were different, if Matt were here, you would have run after them… Things are different now though, you aren’t the same person you were when Matt was here.

You sit back in your spot beside the gravestone, your back leaning against its edge. Desperately searching for some sort of way to connect your touch to Matt again. “I miss you in my bones Matt. I don’t know why you had to go around and play hero, all it did was take you away from me…” As badly as you want to cry for Matt, no tears come. Just a numb feeling encompassing your entire body as you sit in the grass alone. You run your fingers along the ring on your finger, a gift from Matt that hasn’t come off since the day he gave it to you. It was his promise one night that he would always come home from his nights out.

“You’re still wearing the ring I gave you.” The sound of Matt’s voice comes from behind you. Afraid to believe it, you remain seated against the headstone. It wasn’t until he himself was standing over you that your heart sunk to your stomach. Scrambling to your feet you stand face to face with Matt, you hold your breath trying to get a grip on reality.

“M-Matt?” You say fearfully, more afraid of him to say yes, than for it all to be in your head.

“Hi my love.” His lips curl into the smile that you know all too well, however, it doesn’t give you the butterflies that it did before.

“You’re alive?” Matt starts to take steps towards you, but you keep the distance between the two of you by stepping backwards. Matt senses your hesitation and stops his advancements, allowing you time to process his return.

“I know it’s hard to believe, but-”

“You’re, alive!?” your voice raised well above your normal speaking tone.

“Sweetheart, please listen-” Matt pleads with you to try and settle the escalating situation but you continue to cut him off.

“Where did you go?” Your tone is short and aggravated with Matt. How could he think he could just show up here after 4 months of being “dead” and act like nothing's wrong, like he didn’t just leave behind everyone he loves to mourn him with no explanation.

“I was staying where I grew up until I recovered.” Matt’s demeanor seems to shift to something a little more defensive, as if anticipating you to throw a punch at him, which you are mere seconds away from doing.

“You should have stayed there. Why did you come here?” You cross your arms to keep from shoving Matt down into a grave yourself.

“I wanted to-, needed, to see you.” He tries to take another step towards you but the racing of your heart tells him to stop.

You start to pace in an effort to slow your racing thoughts. “So all those nights I spent screaming at the sky, missing you, cursing you and wishing you stayed, going out and anywhere in the city but home, you heard that? All of it?” Your stance stops suddenly in front of him. His breath hitches in his throat as he visibly sinks into himself. The wave of realization washed over him that this isn’t going to be the reunion he anticipated it to be. A sheepish “yes” comes from his lips.

“And you didn’t have the decency to tell the person that you supposedly “love” that you were alive? You let me sit for months, months, Matthew! Sitting around wishing it were me instead. Crying and pushing everyone away because the memories of you that were tied to them were too painful to relive. ”

“I am so sorry. I should have come for you sooner… I wasn’t sure how to come to you though, or what I would say, so instead I waited for the right time.. But that time never seemed to come…”

You took in a deep breath as you watched tears fall from behind Matt’s glasses, biting his bottom lip to keep himself from falling apart. You slowly closed the gap between the two of you as you took his hand and opened his palm. You took off your ring and set it inside his hand before curling his fingers closed around it.

“You should be sorry Matt… Because the old me died right along with you. You came back, but I don’t think I ever can.” You grabbed your jacket and bag and left Matt standing at his grave, never turning back to see him.

[bastart13]

I’ve had a lot of fun recently coming with with female mercenary characters for TF2. I really liked where the concept art was going with making them all individual characters rather than simply “if the characters were women”

The design style is fantastic for distinct simplicity so I tried limiting myself to basic colours and shapes to make these

and I’m pretty confident they pass the silhouette test!

Character names/bios under the cut!

Heavy

Name: Marie Jarrett

Age: Mid 30s-40s

Height: 6’5

Nationality: American (Hawai’i)

Bio: Raised in Hawai’i, growing up she developed more and more drastic measures to fend off the tourists swarming her home. Land mines, electric gates, guard dogs, none could stop them for long until she picked up her trusty minigun to send her message. But even still, she hears the click of cameras in the night.

Eventually, she left her home to explore the world. Enthralled with the image of seeing different wonders across different countries, she’s always disappointed. She’s travelled every continent and still finds nothing that lives up to her expectations. No place, no person. She’s outgoing and open to new experiences, only she usually hates them.

Mercenary life is a great opportunity to earn money, see sights, meet new people and kill them after they don’t meet your expectations. She hates New Mexico and takes every opportunity to destroy the buildings and insult her employer’s tastes. She finds some people she tolerates within the mercenaries as she hasn’t yet visited where they live. However much she hides it, she has a deep, instinctual fear of the Engineer.

  Soldier

Name: Linda Smith

Age: Early 40s

Height: 5’10

Nationality: Canadian

Bio: Canada’s perfect woman… or so she claims. The star of war propaganda posters and clearly decided for the role because of her great tactical assets. She’s there to motivate people into the fight. To spread the glory of Canada and inspire her allies. She believes she has higher orders than anyone else she’s working for (ignoring the fact she hasn’t heard from them for a good few years) and is determined to follow them to the letter. She may have lost the letter but she remembers it good enough.

She represents the ideals of Canada: polite, friendly, apologetic, and pacifistic. None of these are contradicted by how she throws around rockets. That’s not what Canada means. She’s superior to everyone around her and graciously educates them on how to improve through example. She loves her French and British allies and will kindly tell the Americans how to be better.

She’s motivating and actually fairly competent, it’s just that competency might be misdirected. She’s damn good at rocket jumping, shooting her shotgun, and supporting her team, it’s just that you really need to get it in her head when she’s meant to be doing it.

Scout

Name: Patricia “Pat” Herald

Age: 50s-60s

Height: 5’4

Nationality: English

Bio: In her years, Patricia has learnt fear… and she’s learnt to laugh in its face. She wakes up at the crack of dawn, ready to leave at the drop of a hat, boots polished and laced the night before. Her years have taught her that with a gun and Jeremy by her side, she can survive!

The postal route of Appleby-in-Westmorland.

She’s been chased by geese, dogs, cows, elderly ladies, and when her postal route had her delivering post during the war, she developed a taste for blood. Nothing will stop her from delivering her post on time. Every day before 6am, every postbox will have their letters and parcels. One chucked across barbed wire, another house jumped over a river, another house miles into the country with dogs on her heels, she WILL get there and she’ll get there FAST.

But after a couple of decades, she needs a change of scenery, and the Gravels wars are just the holiday she’s needed. With her trusty black and white cat by her side (ignoring the yowling and scratches) she reckons it’ll be great time to enjoy herself.

Quotes: “Oh, hello, Human Jeremy.”

“Bloody fucking Ethel! Building her house out in the country… surrounded by bloody hills and rivers!”

Pyro

Name: Nikephoros Papadopoulos

Age: Late 20s

Height: 5’11

Nationality: Greek

Bio: Survival of the fittest. Nature gives and nature taketh away. If you’re not prepared for that, well, Pyro is more than happy to teach you the lesson. They embody the old values of the Greek gods: f*ck or fire. She indulges her every whim and unfortunately for the people around her it often involves arson.

One year for the Olympic games, she was given the noble title of torchbearer. On complete coincidence, the Olympics shifted to primarily water sports. Underwater sprints became the hot new trend!

She’s merry and chatty, never missing the opportunity to talk to other people about herself and her world view. She can’t wait to spread her gospel to help other people improve themselves (though she always gets a laugh out of those who go out screaming in the flames). She can’t help it if she has a sadistic side.

Engineer

Name: Mikawo Kojima

Age: Early 20s

Height: 5’0

Nationality: Japanese

Bio: Japan’s early-rising industrial revolutions in technology are best exemplified in Mikawo, a young upstart determined to rise to the top, learning everything she can and building the best of the best. Unfortunately, she’s never been the most creative but when you happen upon other people’s blueprints and happen to construct them first, what does it matter who came up with the “concept”?

At first, she appears to be every bit the quiet and demure young woman people expect, only when silk hides steel, that steel is a massive automatic sentry gun. She’s motivated by a distinct contempt for the people who get in her way. Especially those who try to be better than her. She enjoys the flexibility of English, especially the cusses, and she has no reservations about swearing up a storm, even if she still refuses to give a straight rejection, preferring instead to give a small “I’ll think about it.”

Quotes: “This GUN is fair use on your head!”

Demo

Name: Qingzhao Zeng

Age: Late 40s

Height: 5’3

Nationality: Chinese

Bio: The Zeng family has a long-standing family trade in demolitions and explosives, traced down the line all the way to the Song dynasty. Luckily, Qingzhao has sisters so, you know, it’s not all that important. She doesn’t even have to stop smoking and drinking. She hasn’t blown herself up (that much) so clearly, it’s working. Precision is for other people to worry about. She’s apathetic to a T, having seen everything. Measurements come from the heart. A pinch of gunpowder there, a splash of paint there.

Her family has a deep-seated rivalry with the DeGroots. Long ago in ancient China, a Zeng matriarch woke up in a cold sweat, a message from the stars to let them know of their Scottish rivals. Due to being a continent away from each other, the families have actually met each other only a handful of times, but the hatred needs to be kept up because, what if?

Turns out, Qingzhao has met Tavish even before finding employment under the Mann brothers. One drunken night, the two of them had a short, whirlwind friendship, sharing secrets and declaring each other to be their best friends. Luckily for them, they both forgot the night, merrily hating each other as tradition dictates. However, headaches and flashes of this terrible night haunt them both. Could they really get over centuries of hate and become friends?

Absolutely not.

Sniper

Name: Ansa Aaltonen

Age: 27

Height: 6’2

Nationality: Finnish

Bio: Snow. Sugar. Cocaine.  Her life is run by many white powders. Ansa is a professional sniper, with a sharp eye and a steady hand… when she isn’t also high as a kite, lost in the snowy wilderness of Finland and screeching to the sky. When you’re up in the dark and cold, you need something to give you a little pep in your step. It just so happens Ansa liked having a bit more pep than most.

She’s there for a THRILL. There’s nothing better to get your heart pumping at 200 beats per second than a good headshot, embracing the chill, and a hit of sugar. She no longer feels the cold or heat or even pain, shrugging it off until she collapses. It just makes her feel alive. She’s efficient, fast, and determined to get her kicks.

She has an unusual taste, living off fermented fish and tree bark. To most people around the Finnish wilderness, she’s nothing more than an urban legend, but she’s very real and she’s looking for some excitement, happily found in employment in the Gravel wars.

Spy

Name: Yvonne Pleshette [Real name N/A]

Age: 30s

Height: 5’8

Nationality: American (California)

Bio: The silver screen calls to his woman and she’s happy to answer. She trains herself to act in every possible role she can, having a wide range of accents, body languages, and backstories. To truly test herself, she gave up her identity long ago. Lately she’s been going by the name “Yvonne.”

The world of Hollywood is cutthroat and full of backstabbers so she learnt to cut throats and stab backs. While some people tell her the terms are metaphorical, nothing else has given her more roles. Living the mercenary life is simply gathering research for her roles (and earning some much-needed money in the process).

She presents herself as a classic film star, despite being a minor name at best, mostly because she’s always changing it. She has high standards but a cheapskate personality. She’s a bit of a bitch, happily criticising others, especially if they’re working with her. What can she say? She’s a diva.

[Slutshames other spy]

Quotes: “Ugh, actors these days, they know nothing about getting into character. They still have names.”

“’AHHHHH—’ Wait, no. Once more from the top. Scream in agony.”

Medic

Name: Susan Monks

Age: 30-40s

Height: 5’7

Nationality: American (New Jersey)

Bio: The American Healthcare system. Is there a more glorious sight? The exploitation of pain. The money. The debt. The fear it strikes into the entire population it’s designed to help. To Susan, there’s nothing better. She squeezes every last drop from the people she helps, working on a purely transactional lifestyle. She’ll never help someone unless she has all of their insurance information and the payment secure in her bank, and god forbid she ever accept help. It’s not like she can afford her own prices.

She’s very self-aware of her own corruption and proud of it, though she refuses to be exploited in the same way, suspicious of anything “free” but also doing her best not to pay for anything.

That said, she doesn’t much care for how good a job she does. In her eyes, asking for surgery is one thing. Asking for successful surgery is another. She has a variety of skills in both cosmetic and military medicine. She just wishes the license board would stop sending her “malpractice” letters. Ugh, stick to your own business. “Disappearing” all their messengers is becoming a pain.

Quotes: “Why get someone else to do something for you when you can scrounge a way to do it yourself?”