#I could see myself playing guitar by that fire :)

[resplendent-dwellings]

[avatar-anna]

Assistant! Reader x Harry Styles Masterlist

April 2016

“Thank you for meeting me.”

Y/n settled into the seat across from Harry. Her hands curled tightly around her mug, apprehension seeping into her bones. “Of course.”

She had been surprised when Harry called her, asking to meet at the Beachwood Cafe. She hadn’t heard from him in months, not one call or text, not even an email. Not that Y/n really expected much when One Direction finally went on hiatus, but after zero communication, she wasn’t quite sure why he’d called her all these months later. 

“How are you? I haven’t seen you in ages,” Harry asked.

Y/n’s eyebrows raised a bit, but she answered him anyway after taking a sip of her coffee. “Fine, I guess. You?”

“Good!” Harry said excitedly. “Taking a break the last few months has been…I don’t know. Peaceful, but odd, you know? I’ve never had so much time to myself before.”

“Must be nice,” Y/n said, trying to hide the irritation in her voice.

“Yeah, but I realized that I kind of miss it,” he said. “I knew once we decided on the hiatus that I wanted to do my own thing, but I thought I would take a longer break, but I feel like I’m…itching to get back to work.”

That definitely seemed like Harry. Y/n had worked for him for years, and even when there were breaks between tours, he was hard at work—writing, going to Fashion Week, collaborating with other artists, vocal training, even trying new recipes in his state-of-the-art kitchen, which led to a phone call at one in the morning where Harry asked Y/n to come over and see if his macrons tasted "fluffy enough." It seemed only right that he rested for mere months before starting a new project. She could practically picture him at either of his homes in LA or London, scribbling in his leatherbound journal or playing new melodies on his guitar or piano (and the occasional late-night pastry party). As long as she’d known him, Harry had been a hard worker through and through. A little on the wild side when he had some tequila in him, but when it came down to his career, he was focused, determined. 

“Good for you,” Y/n said, meaning it. She always thought he was capable of more. “So what comes next for you? Have you recorded songs already?”

“Not quite. I’m planning a trip to Jamaica to write and record there. It’s remote, serene, a good place to get away. So we’ll have to start booking flights and places to stay and—”

“I’m sorry, ‘We?’” Y/n asked, her brow furrowing with confusion. 

Harry matched her look of confusion with one of his own. “Yeah, I mean—I need you. I can’t do this without you.”

The sentiment warmed Y/n’s heart for a moment, but his immediate assumption that she would drop everything just because he asked her to brought the irritation swarming back. “Mr. Sty—Harry, you know I don’t work for you anymore, right?”

“What do you mean? Are you talking about the hiatus? I just thought we could all use some time off, but…I guess I just thought—”

Harry didn’t finish his thought, but his cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. Y/n would’ve found it cute if he hadn’t been so dense. Resentment still circled around her like a fog, and she wouldn’t let it go so easily, she couldn’t. 

“I was employed by your management, Harry. To be an assistant to a member of One Direction,” Y/n explained. “I was let go. I had to quickly find another job doing something else.”

“Oh.”

Y/n supposed she should’ve anticipated being fired, but she didn’t. There was a lot of information that she was privy to that most people weren’t, secrets that were tightly bound by an NDA when she was first hired, but talks of the hiatus was very hushed. She knew to suspect that somewhere down the line the boys would finally take a break, but it came a lot sooner than she was prepared for, and she was left jobless before she had the chance to line something else up. Y/n thought that Harry would give her the courtesy of a warning, but he said nothing about it to her, didn’t offer much except a side hug after One Direction’s last performance.

So yeah, she was a little bitter.

“I’m—I’m really sorry, Y/n. I know it doesn’t make up for…all of this and everything you went through, but I am truly sorry.”

“Thank you.” 

Y/n believed him, believed that he was sorry for everything that went down, but it still hurt to know she wasn’t someone he was close enough to talk to about all of this at the time. She was Harry’s assistant, she knew that, but they’d been through a lot together. But he was ever the professional it seemed, and it was her job to remember that, not his.

When she realized her coffee was finished, Y/n stood up. “Well, it was good seeing you, Harry. Good luck on your next project. I’m sure it’ll be great.”

“Wait, but—you’re not—you‘re leaving?”

“I have to run a couple errands before work," Y/n explained. She rested her hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “But really, no hard feelings. I wish you all the best.”

She left Harry at the table, heading for the front of the cafe and toward the busy street beyond. Her heart felt heavy as she walked away, but she tried to shake the feeling that she was walking away from more than just her boss. Former boss. Like her mother always reminded her, she couldn’t be a personal assistant forever.

“Wait!”

Y/n turned on instinct, eyes widening as Harry jogged after her, his little bun bouncing with each step. He skidded to a stop in front of her, green eyes wide and searching. For what, she wasn’t sure, but the heat of his gaze was enough to make butterflies stir in her stomach.

Putting on her best front, she raised her eyebrows, waiting for Harry to say whatever he needed to.

“I wasn’t kidding earlier. I need you, Y/n,” he said. “I—You’re the only one who really knows me, who I know will have my back no matter what. I need a familiar face in my corner.”

I need you, Y/n. Those words were her kryptonite. Year after year, Y/n heard Harry's voice over the phone as he roused her from sleep, read the text messages while she was getting her nails done or watched TV in her hotel room, or on the rare occasion she went on a date. But she had to hold strong. Y/n had been devastated by her sudden layoff, but now she had a life, and she didn't want to get sucked back into Harry's very alluring web of charming smiles, cheesy jokes, and endless adventure. That was his life, not hers.

“I have a job, Harry. I can’t just drop everything and quit because you suddenly want me to—”

“What are they paying you?”

Y/n’s brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”

Harry pushed on. “What are they paying you? I’ll double it.”

Scoffing in disbelief, she said, “It’s not about the money—”

“Triple,” he countered. Harry took her hand in his and squeezed it. He looks desperate, Y/n thought.

“I can’t just quit my job because you remembered I existed,” Y/n said quietly, pulling her hand out of his. She clung to her resolve, hoping Harry would make this easy and just let it go, let her go. “I—I deserve more.”

More of what, she wasn’t sure, but Y/n knew it was true. Harry only reached out because he needed something from her, and that hurt more than she cared to admit. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” Harry said, looking down at his shoes. A pair of scuffed Chelsea boots he wore practically everywhere. Y/n had bought him a pair of Vans one year, an attempt to switch up his wardrobe, but he still chose the boots nine times out of ten. “Just—At least think about coming to Jamaica. Please?”

“Harry—”

“Not as my assistant. As a guest. A friend,” Harry amended. “We’re planning on staying at a huge villa, and I want to make up for being an idiot. Just—Just think about it. Please.”

Despite everything, Y/n found herself wanting to say yes. It was that magnetic pull she felt toward Harry that had kept her working for him for so long. He was an important person in her life, and up until he’d all but ghosted her after the hiatus, she thought she was important to him too. In spite of his misgivings, Y/n still wanted to believe that she was. 

It was so stupid, but it felt good to be wanted by him. She was an idiot, she knew that. But her friendship with Harry was legitimate, he'd just acted like a complete idiot. She'd known him long enough to know he was very capable of acting like an idiot. So even though she shouldn’t, even though she had carefully lined up her reasons not to in a little line, she started to cave. 

But she couldn’t make the decision now. Not when Harry was looking at her with pleading green eyes and his sad little puppy dog face, his cologne dizzyingly lovely. No, she owed it to herself to really think about what she wanted. If getting sucked back into that whirlwind was worth it. Worth getting her heart properly broken when she knew he would never feel the same about her.

"I'll show up at work, you know," Harry said. "I'm not above it. You might think I am, but I'm not."

Y/n had no doubt in her mind that he would. Along with being an idiot, Harry was very stubborn, and very persistent. She had years with him to know that. Did she really need Harry Styles showing up at her place of work?

“Fine, I’ll think about it,” she finally said, trying to pretend like her heart was screaming to just agree. But her heart was an impulsive little shit that was bound to get her in trouble.

Harry’s face broke out into a wide grin, one that displayed those famous dimples and lit up his entire face. It was hard to feel like he didn't think she was the only person on earth to exist when he looked like that, like he was convinced she’d already said yes. “I’ll take it.”

[hyuckmov]

haechan — settle down pt.3 (rockstar hyuck) | preview

wc: 904 words genre: angst, suggestive? | read part 1, part 2 a/n: life is crazy and scary, but this fic and interacting with u guys about it has been a constant and i'm so grateful for that :) motivating myself to keep going by posting this here, this is the opening to part 3 - the final part! let me know what u think!!! thank u for all the love <3

there was something wrong with haechan.

something's different. that's what jeno had said earlier, after the show. exhausted from sleepless nights, screaming fans making him feel nauseous, haechan barely paid attention to anything during his performances except for his own guitar. he hardly looked at the crowd, didn't acknowledge their pleas of his name, as if it wasn't one he recognised at all. 

he'd started missing parties, and was barely there even if he showed — ignoring the way girls swarmed around him, wondering if he was playing a new game, one where they had to work harder to earn his attention, one that they never could seem to win.

but out of all of haechan's bad habits, this might be the worst of them – sitting in the living room past midnight, sipping down to the last dregs of his alcohol, waiting for the knock on his door. 

it was late now — so late that the hours had bled into the next day. he hadn't seen you at the concert, not at the party, and despite telling himself not to dream, not to hope, he still carried enough desperation in him to stay up again. 

he's relieved he did. 

his hands shake as he opens the door. his hands falling to his sides as he drinks in the sight of you, letting you in. 

"hi," you breathe, and you don't ask before you lean into him, soft lips brushing his plush ones. 

he's at a loss for words, his tongue numb in his mouth, limbs still heavy from how tired he'd been all day. he lets you guide him to the couch, into the cushions. lets you straddle his hips, holding your body close to his with careful arms, as he meets your kisses gently.

something's different, but haechan's not the only one who's changed. on nights like these, it feels like all you do is take and take and take. 

"i haven't seen you in a while," he murmurs. quietly, softly, the words almost getting lost in between kisses. immediately after he says the words, he slots his lips with yours firmly, as if afraid of what you would say if he let the space between you and him grow, his tongue stroking over yours. 

"i've been busy." at the crestfallen look on his face, a small smile tugs at your lips, and you lean in to brush your lips with his. "why? did you miss me?" 

"i did," he says, almost timid. "i missed you."

at this, you raise your eyebrows. "you could have had anyone else." 

but he shakes his head. "i missed you," he repeats, hands mapping your skin, as if checking if you were really here, seeking the familiar way you fit into his palms, your slopes and your edges. 

"i missed you too," you say, meaningfully, letting him pull you in. but when you push against him, body rocking into his and mouth open and wanting, the glow in your eyes tells him you're talking about something else entirely. 

his mind races. the feeling of you against him wakes him up like nothing else, the way you touch him, your smell and your taste setting fire to all his senses. there's something sweet about your lips tonight, something he wants to savor on his tongue and drown in all at once. 

he doesn't want to waste any of this, because this was the only thing you ever wanted to see him for, now — and that's what he reminds himself as he pulls you into his body, because finally, finally, your attention is all on him, an electric heat simmering over each fibre of his being, the feeling of your body too good to be true.

but it's been one too many nights he's waited, a weight on his chest and a drowsiness he can't shake overcoming him like a cloyingly sweet poison. 

"i–" he's cut off by a shuddering inhale as your lips travel down to his neck, your hips grinding against him just right. "baby, i'm sorry," he tries again, his hands now gripping onto your waist, trying to steady you, even as he gives up. "i don't think i can take care of you tonight." 

you still. 

"don't go, please," he begs. "i'm sorry, it's been…it's been a long day and i…" he breaks off. the performance. the fight with the band. the fact that he'd been drinking for hours, the starless sky inky black outside his window, his fingers still stinging from plucking at guitar strings all night. "just give me a second," he stammers, burying his face in his hands, tugging at his features, before looking up at you with tired eyes. "i'll be fine in a minute, then we'll go to the bedroom, i just —" 

your hands slide down the slope of his shoulders. 

"don't go," he repeats, hands fumbling for yours as he brings them up to his lips, like a prayer. "i can take care of you, i promise. just…" 

"donghyuck," you say, softly. again you smile, cupping his face in your palms. his round cheeks, plush lips, the slight flare of his nose. he almost goes cross-eyed staring at you, as you lean in close and kiss him again – this one different than the rest, close-lipped and chaste. 

"hyuck, let me take care of you tonight, okay?" 

caught in a riptide of his own longing, he lets go.

[miryum]

"Tactical Village"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy's relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

“Do you recognise any of these men?” Y/n asked a woman who was wearing a ‘Visitor’ tag. 

The woman shook her head, saying, “I was hiding in the bathroom stall so I didn’t see his face. But, I heard him. He was singing along to the track.”

“Do you remember what he was singing?”

“Oh my gosh, no, Y/n,” Jason couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Don’t do it….” Y/n chuckled along with him. Captain Wayne had assigned a detective to Y/n whenever she interrogated a perp. There had been an… incident. 

Cass didn’t know who gave Y/n a guitar, but the woman was currently torturing a perp with her terrible playing of the instrument, accompanying the sound with loud, off-tune screaming. 

The woman shrugged. “I think it was that song ‘I Want it That Way.’ ” 

Y/n hummed. “Backstreet Boys, I’m familiar.”

“Maybe a little too familiar,” Jason muttered. He thought of all the times Y/n had agonised both the criminals and detectives on duty with their songs.

“Number one,” Y/n ignored Jason, pressing a button for the intercom. “Could you please sing the opening to ‘I Want it That Way?’”

“Really? Uh… okay,” Perp 1 said. “You are… my fire?”

Y/n glanced over to the witness who shook her head. “Number two, keep it going.”

“The one… desire.” Perp 2 squinted to Perp 1, looking for confirmation that this was actually happening. 

“Number three?” Y/n nodded along to the nonexistent beat. 

“Believe… when I say?”

“Number four!” Y/n called out, grinning widely, leaning on the desk.

“I want it that way.”

“TELL ME WHY!” Y/n sang loudly into the microphone. 

“Ain’t nothing but a heartache,” all the suspects chanted along. 

“TELL ME WHY!”

“Ain’t nothing but a mistake…”

“Now number five,” Y/n crooned to the melody.

Perp 5 raised his hand, losing himself in the music. “I never wanna hear you say,”

“WHOO!” Y/n shouted out.

“I want it that way,” everyone finished together.

“Chills! Literal chills!” Y/n shivered, giggling. 

“It was number five,” the woman said. “Number five killed my brother.” 

“Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about that,” Jason murmured. “And, Y/n, just so you know, you pressed the ‘speaker’ button. Everyone in the precinct could hear that.” 

“Ohhh… whoops?”

“Happy Tactical Village Day!” Y/n high-fived Tim on her way in the door. “Happy Tactical Village Day, Cass! Happy Tactical Village Day!”

“L/n, I'm surprised to see you so excited about departmentally mandated training exercises,” Wayne commented. 

“Why, ‘tis the most fun day of the year, my good sir! Something you wouldn't understand, because you're not programmed to feel joy.”

“Yes, but my software is due for an upgrade,” Wayne retorted.

”When you play along with the robot jokes it ruins my enjoyment of them,” Y/n pouted.

“Yes, I am aware.”

“Anyway, Tactical Village Day is awesome!” Y/n continued with her rant. “We get to field test a bunch of cool, new weapons and there's always a fun training situation. Last year's was prison break. It got uber violent. It was like being in an action movie.” Her eyes went wide with excitement.

Y/n was using a piece of her hair to slowly chisel away at a metal bar of a cell.

“Y/n?” Steph called from the other end of the cell. “Cass and I dug a tunnel. Wanna use it?”

“Go on without me,” Y/n said in a deep, gruff voice. “I’ll make due by myself.”

“It's also a good opportunity for us to bond as a unit,” Steph said, reminding them all the true reason of Tactical Village Day.

“Everybody gets into it,” Y/n exclaimed. 

Jason kicked down a door and he and Dick rushed through it, screaming as they stormed the room. 

It turned out to be a supply closet.

“Suffice to say, the sixty-sixth has never had a perfect run,” Dick chuckled and scratched his neck. 

“Yeah, but Y/n has been the finalist for coolest kill two years in a row,” Stephanie said. “Every precinct sends their footage and all the cops vote.”

“It's not that big of a deal,” Y/n waved her away. “All you win is a children's tennis trophy, so…”

“You desperately want that trophy, don't you?” Wayne asked.

“So badly.” Y/n growled. “I will stop at nothing to obtain my prize. I'll shoot all of you in the face if I have to!”

“Go team,” Damian said monotonously. 

“Okay, so,” Y/n slid into the seat next to Jason’s on the bus ride over. “I’ve figured out my fictional persona for this year’s shooty-shooty rootin-tootie.”

“How the hell do you come up with these names?” Jason muttered, mostly to himself. 

“I am… Gina Thunderhouse. Russian spy, weapons master, and total badass. I even have cool Russian accent.” she said in a bad accent. “Babushka. Moscow. Rasputin.” 

“You know ‘babushka’ means ‘grandma,’ right?”

“Whatever. At least I have a persona, Mr. I’m-not-even-trying-to-be-fun.”

“This training isn’t about fun,” Jason frowned. “It’s about honing our skills to be better officers.”

“We shoot paint at pretend bad guys!” Y/n cried. “How is that not fun?!”

“I’m gonna go talk to Dick,” Jason said, standing up. “You have fun thinking of more Russian words.”

Steph quickly filled Jason’s empty seat, grinning sharply. “Seems like you two are getting cosy!”

“Come on, Brown. Not this again!”

“You gotta admit there’s spark.” 

“How many times do I have to tell you?!” Y/n exclaimed. “He’s like a brother to me.”

“And Leia was like a sister to Luke,” Steph sang out.

“Okay, that’s not fair. Luke didn’t know! No one knew.”

Steph shrugged and let the conversation go, though a smile flitted through her lips. Soon, the sixty-sixth arrived at the building where Tactical Village Day would commence. Walking in the doors, duffel bags full of gear and weapons in hand, Y/n shouted out, “The six-six is in the house!” 

“Six-six!” The rest of the crew echoed.

“Hey! Biz!” Y/n greeted an old friend. “They upgraded you from bystander to perp! That’s great, man. Still gonna blow your brains out though.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything else,” Biz waved back.

“Jason Todd?” A voice spoke from a crowd of detectives and cops. “Is that you?”

“Rose?” Jason’s head whipped towards the voice. “It’s been so long! What’re you doing here?”

“I’m with the seventeenth now,” she explained. “We’re paired with you guys today.” Rose was a tall, slim, blonde girl whom it seemed Jason connected with very well. 

“Wha- what’s going on here?” Y/n shuffled up to them, Steph close behind. 

“Oh, Y/n, this is Rose Wilson.” Rose held out a hand and Y/n firmly shook it. “Rose, this is Y/n L/n. She’s the life of the six-six.” He placed a hand on Y/n’s lower back, pushing her slightly forward. 

“Nice to meet you,” Rose said. 

“Likewise,” Y/n pressed her lips together in a smile. 

“Well, I gotta go,” Rose hugged Jason. “I’ll see you later, though. Great seeing you.”

“You too,” Jason returned the hug. 

Once Rose had left with a wave, Y/n turned to Jason and questioned, “So… who was that?”

“That was Rose,” Jason said as if it was the most obvious thing. “We went on a couple of dates last year.” 

“You did?” Steph asked. Y/n had forgotten she was behind her. Cass joined them, silently backing up her friends.

“Yeah, I liked her, but she was stationed in Metropolis so I didn’t get to see much of her. I guess it just fizzled out.”

“Right,” Y/n gawaffed. “That's the girl you said the lame stuff about. Like ‘she's a good listener’ and shit.” Internally, she felt bad for deriding Rose- she seemed like a nice person- but she couldn’t help but take a rag at Jason.

“I'm sorry, what do you look for in a relationship?” Jason asked snarkily. 

“I don't know,” Y/n shrugged. “Real stuff. Shape of their ass. Sense of dark humour.”

“Of course.” Jason rolled his eyes and stalked away.

“Isn’t it weird that Jason dated that girl?” Y/n scoffed, hands on her hips.

Steph raised her brows, mirroring L/n’s stance. “Why do you care so much?” Her voice rose higher with each word.

“Okay, first of all, your insinuating voice is way too high,” Y/n accused. “It's weird. And second, I don't care. I'm just wondering why he would like her.”

“Whatever you say,” Steph said, voice still high-pitched and she shuddered. “Okay, yeah, I hear it now. I sound like Cat from Sam and Cat.”

“Yes, you do.” Cass agreed. “But, I agree. L/n needs to confront her feelings for Todd and woman up.”

Y/n rolled her eyes and excused herself from the conversation, claiming the need to talk to Tim.

“Oh, this is so cool!” Y/n squealed, holding a parallel gun. “You can shoot around corners. I love guns.” She sighed and said, “I'm gonna make such a good mom someday.”

Jason shook his head, lips pursing. “Not even gonna touch that.”

“Not even gonna touch that: Title of your sex tape,” Y/n muttered, then chuckled. “Come on, man. At least make me work for it.”

Soon, it was time for the sixty-sixth to run the simulation. The team was standing by the door, waiting to be let in when Y/n slid by on her knees, making a dramatic entrance. “Gina Thunderhouse had arrived.” Her voice was, once again, accented in a bad Russian tone.

“That was majestic,” Tim joked.

“Custom kneepads to help me win coolest kill,” Y/n patted her knees, showing off her kneepads. After an awkward silence, she asked, “What, don't tell me Thunderhouse is the only lady here with a signature move!”

Tim shrugged. “I was bouncing around the idea where when I'm out of ammo, I release my mag and dropkick or chuck it into someone's throat.”

“You know how people hold their guns sideways to look cool?” Dick asked. Y/n nodded and the sarge continued, “It got me thinking. What if you held your gun upside-down?” He demonstrated it, flipping his gun upside down, finger still on trigger.

Before Y/n could respond with how that was an incredibly stupid idea, a loud buzzer sounded and another precinct marched out the door, looking victorious.

“Seventeenth’s done.” Y/n muttered and Stephanie stepped closer to her. “Heads up.”

“Hey. How'd it go?” Jason greeted Rose. 

Rose smiled and replied, “it went well. We had a perfect run! And not to brag, but I think we just set a GCPD course record for time.”

“Definitely a brag,” Y/n huffed quietly. 

“A course record?” Jason’s brows shot up.  “That’s so cool.”

“Thanks.” Rose looked up at him. “I'm psyched. By the way, good luck in there.”

“Thanks,” Jason called after her as she walked away.

“All right, huddle up.” Y/n pulled Jason away by the strap of his vest and into a group huddle. “This is how it's going down.”

“What happened to your accent, Gina?” Steph asked teasingly, knowing full well what was going on.

“Forget that shit.” Y/n frowned. “We're taking this seriously. Okay, on three: Let's break that course record and be the best precinct here! One, two, three!”

The group repeated, “let’s break that course record and… uh…” They all trailed off, mumbling different things as they forgot the words. 

“Yeah, I agree, it was too many words.” Y/n grimaced. “Let’s just do it.”

“Okay, I've got the details for this simulation.” Dick sat in front of a console, radioing in to everyone’s headsets. “A group of armed men entered an embassy and took hostages.”

“Which embassy?” Y/n couldn't help but ask. She shook her head, reminding herself to stay focused. “Doesn't matter. We’ll just say, Canada. They’re too nice to say no if someone asks to take them hostage. So take out the perps, clear the civilians, rescue the hostages?”

“Affirmative,” Dick confirmed. “This is an active shooter situation. You're cleared for maximum engagement.”

“‘Maximum engagement?’” Y/n scoffed. “What is this, Jurassic Park: The Ride?” 

Dick didn’t answer, commanding, “Brown and Drake, perimeter security. Brown, make sure he doesn’t fall asleep, but also doesn’t die from caffeine overdose. He only got two and a half hours last night.”

“Got it,” Brown said, yanking Tim’s cup of coffee away from him.

“L/n and Todd, you're the assault team. I'll be in the command centre. Cain, I need you to do surveillance on the places I can’t see.”

“On it.” Cass disappeared into the vents and Dick stared after her, wondering how she didn’t end up as an assassin-for-hire.

“All right, focus up,” Y/n said into the comms. “We got eighteen minutes and forty-one seconds to break this record. No screwing around.”

“Wow, you're really not gonna do a character?” Jason asked, smirking.

“I am playing a character,” Y/n said. “A no-nonsense detective whose only goal is to set this course record. Her name is Y/n L/n. She’s a kid who grew up with an absent father and just wants to prove herself. I don't have time for her full back-story. Sarge, please, let’s start.”

“Okay, guys, and go!” Dick clicked a stopwatch and the team rushed in.

Y/n zipped around a corner, gun drawn. When she didn’t see anyone, she called, “clear!”

She and Jason repeated the actions, peeking around corners and yelling, “clear.”

Y/n turned around a corner and fired two shots at a cop labelled “PERP.”

“Nice,” Jason commented.

Y/n ignored him and said, “okay, only three perps left. We might actually do this.”

Dick’s voice came in through the comms. “L/n, Cain has intel that there’s a hostage in room 409.”

“Copy that.” Y/n inhaled and said, “I love how it always smells like fresh paint here. Reminds me of how often I moved as a child.”

“No talking,” Jason reminded her. “You'll give away our position.”

“Look out!” Y/n was staring over his shoulder. She quickly lifted her gun and fired a shot at someone. 

Jason shielded away from the noise. “That was close.” He inspected Y/n and said, “there's paint in your hair.” He reached up and smoothed the paint away. “Thanks for shooting that guy.”

“My pleasure.” Y/n followed him around the corner and stared at a door marked 409. “The hostages are in there. Intel says there's a couple of heavily-armed perps with them.”

Jason asked, “you want to wait for backup?”

Y/n shook her head. “No time. We only have a minute to win the record.” She sighed and declared, “I'm going in.” At Jason’s scandalised look, she reassured him, smiling. She gently took Jason’s gun from his hands. “Don't worry. I have a plan on how to beat them: Give up.”

“What?!”

“Trust me,” Y/n said. “Or don't.” She shrugged. “I'm doing it anyway.” Jason’s heart dropped, watching her walk cautiously into the room. She announced, hands holding her guns in the air, “GCPD! Don't shoot!” Inside the room were two perps, guarding three hostages. “I'm here to surrender,” Y/n told them. The hostages looked at her as if she was crazy. “Let the hostages go and take me instead,” she said. 

“Not happening.” One of the perps growled. “Drop your weapon!”

”Okay, okay, my fingers are off the triggers.” Y/n agreed, dangling her guns off her fingers. “I'm just gonna slowly put them down in front of me….” She started crouching down. Jason watched, aghast, from the doorway. “I’m slowly putting 'em…” Suddenly, she twisted her fingers around and pulled the triggers, shooting the two perps in the chest.

“Goddamn it!” One of the perps yelled.

“Dick, time!” Y/n shouted into her comm.

“18 minutes, 28 seconds. You broke the record!” Dick cried back.

“Yes! Nice!” Jason ran in and hugged Y/n tightly, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around. She squealed and hugged him back. 

Jason paraded her out of the room and they greeted their teammates to a chorus of cheers, applause, and claps on the back.

“Ah, there she is!” Dick called.

“The record is ours.” Y/n spread her arms.

“I still can't believe your final kill came from Dick’s move.” Tim shook his head, looking disgusted.

“You went upsy-downsies?” Dick gasped. “That's what I call it, because you hold the gun upside-down.”

Y/n sighed. “Yes, Richard, I went upsy-downsies. And none of you shall ever speak of it again.”

“But I want to speak of it,” Jason whined. “You looked really stupid.”

“Alright, let's go.” Dick grinned. “Drinks are on me.”

“Nice! Here we go, six-six!” Y/n held her hand up to Jason for a high-five, face flushed with excitement.

Jason grimaced. “Actually, Rose asked me to dinner, so maybe I can meet up with you guys afterwards?”

Y/n’s face dropped. “Oh. Sure. Yeah. Of course. Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool cool cool.” Jason nodded and left, giving goodbyes as he walked away.

“What's going on, Gina Thunderhouse?” Cass smirked, sidling up with Steph. 

Y/n muttered, “what do you think Jason sees in Rose?”

“So you do like him!” Steph accused, smiling slyly. 

“I'm just curious!” Y/n tried to defend. “I mean, she's okay-looking and a good cop….” But aren’t I okay-looking and a good cop? “Also, she set the course record, but that's nothing. I broke it, like, 20 minutes later.”

“You want to know why he went out with her and not you?” Cass asked quietly. 

“Yeah.” Y/n swallowed harshly. 

“Because she actually asked him out,” Steph finished.

Captain Wayne raised a brow, looking down at Y/n’s desk. “You won coolest kill?” He gestured to the small tennis trophy Y/n was staring at. 

“No- not by a long shot.” She chuckled dryly. “But Dick bought it for me ‘cause he felt like I should’ve won. But he’s bias, of course.”

“Of course.” Captain Wayne smiled softly. “Detective, are you alright?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Captain,” Y/n mumbled. “Can- can I ask you a question?” 

“Sure, L/n.”

Y/n looked up at Wayne. “How’d you know Clark was the one?” she whispered.

Bruce sighed and offered, “come into my office. And bring your trophy.”

Doing as she was told, Y/n followed Bruce into his office. She sat down and Bruce took the trophy from her, placing it on his desk proudly. “When I first got here, Damian told me of your predicament.” When Y/n’s mouth fell open in betrayal, Bruce held up his hand. “I would’ve figured it out either way. I used to be a detective, after all. But what he didn’t know is if Todd liked you back. However, based on months of observation, I’ve noticed, for lack of a better simile, that Todd follows you like a lost puppy. I should know; I acted the same way towards Clark before we started dating.”

“Did you ask him out?” Y/n asked.

Bruce let out a laugh. “God, no. I was too scared. But that’s not an invitation to make the same mistakes I did. I lost a lot of time with Clark because of my anxiety.”

“Duly noted, Captain. Thank you.”

“Anytime, L/n. And good job in the Tactical Village.”

“Thank you, sir.”

[callahanisms]

jealousy jealousy

a request: "hey! I wanted to make a request for a Tashi Duncan fanfic <3 a headcanon, about Tashi and reader being friends and playing tennis together, but reader is chubby and insecure a about her body, she feels a little jealous of Tashi and the other girls that play tennis and feels guilty about it. Tashi is secretly in love with her, at first reader can't really accept because she can't believe someone would be in love with her. Can you do female reader?"

this is going to be one of those rare occasions where i will be more specific about a reader's appearance and gender. something i also think is important is that i tend to imagine my reader as not white. so this does bleed into these head canons. if that's too serious for you, you're better off not following me.

pairing: tashi duncan x chubby! fem! reader

for vibes: "jealousy jealousy" by olivia rodrigo

context: stanford 2007

word count: 1.8k words

Love cannot exist without Envy.

When you love someone, to some extent you envy that person. There's something they have that you envy. That is what you grew up believing and that is the worldview of love that you were left with. On top of your mother telling you that girls like you do not receive the flowers, guitars, and romantic rescues that all the rom-com heroines you watched had.

Your favorite romantic comedies were My Big Fat Greek Wedding, 10 Things I Hate About You, and Love Actually–the third being more of a guilty pleasure. The only movie that came close to representing a girl like you, with your body type, was My Big Fat Greek Wedding. That was the right kind of rom-com, the one where the woman didn't need to change herself. She just developed confidence and scored the guy of her dreams.

Unfortunately, real life was not as kind as the movies.

"You can't quit tennis!"

"What makes you say that?" You play with your food, poking the fettuccine alfredo with chicken recipe you cooked up for the both of you. You were craving something creamy this time of night. And Tashi was too.

"You just can't. You're amazing. Why would you quit? With talent like yours, it seems like such a waste to just quit." Tashi had already finished her plate.

"It was fun while it lasted. But I don't see myself doing it."

"Bullshit (Y/N)." You could never look at her when you lied.

Tashi recalls the first time she saw you play. It was the day after her own match. And you were pure fire. Your strokes were quick, most of your serves unreturnable. She felt bad for your opponent because you never gave her a chance. Instead, you decimated her. In short, you were a phenomenon. Someone like herself.

You two played the next day. Tashi won, but she never felt such a thrill, such a surge of adrenaline. You were the only opponent she's played so far to have her respect and friendship. You were great. And she wished the world could see what she saw.

Your passion for tennis rivaled Tashi's. It was your purpose in life. It was the perfect sport for you to destress yourself to, hitting balls and rallying yourself against the walls in the public park. You wanted to achieve that envious Grand Slam career title. You wanted to continue in tennis. You didn't want to quit.

"Is it those assholes again?"

You look up at Tashi. You both dealt with your share of racism. But you had an extra pile of shit thrown on top of you. People say all the time that chubby people can't play tennis. And it didn't help that among the players of your generation, you were the only one with a body size bigger than a 14. Being both non-white and chubby only made the vitriol worse and the interpersonal competition harsher.

"Come on. You can't listen to them." Tashi sets down the pasta bowl. You painted it for her that one time you guys decided to try pottery painting. She takes a sip of water from the mug you gifted her. And the cherry on top was that she was wearing one of your shirts. You left it at her house when you slept over.

"That's easy for you to say." You set your plate down.

A frown forms on her face. You don't like it when Tashi frowns. "(Y/N)..."

"It's all they talk about." Your eyes rake over her figure. Thin arms. A limber, slender body. Athletic with the right muscle balance so she didn't seem like too much of an athlete. She was model material, Tashi Duncan. And that's why all the offers came rolling in for her. All the brand deals, all the money. And you were instead left with scraps, still wrapping duct tape around the handle of your dad's Wilson racket. Relying on the graciousness of Tashi Duncan when you were in a tough spot. She bought you new shoes in time for the U.S. Open this year because your old ones had holes and were worn down. You hated relying on her. You hated that she always insisted you didn't need to pay her back. Your company was enough.

Your love was enough.

"What's the point in playing tennis if no one is going to talk about me playing tennis!" You raise your voice out of frustration. You were so angry that you could throw the plate at the wall and break it. "All everyone wants to talk about is how fat I am and that fat girls don't belong in tennis! It's not going anywhere! No one but you sees my potential. And my family and I have been losing money! It's too costly. Stanford didn't even take me for tennis." You were accepted for your brains. Not for your true passion. It wasn't worth investing in tennis when you were getting nothing in return. Nothing but racist, fatphobic vitriol that continued to wear you down every day.

"And that's why you should continue to play. You need to prove them wrong!" Tashi keeps her voice steady. "You prove them wrong, then they can't say shit."

You wanted to believe her. But you knew the truth. You weren't Tashi Duncan. You could never be Tashi Duncan. Only girls like Tashi Duncan and Irina Petrovska got the brand deals, got the fame, got the money.

Only girls like them got to continue their passion and turn it into a career.

"Proving them wrong won't do them anything. At this point I'm just...a circus pig." Your voice drops, but Tashi can hear what you said.

"You're not a circus pig."

"That's easy for you to say! You're...You're fucking perfect! You're the face of tennis! You're who people think of when someone brings up the term tennis player. Not me! You. I'm not meant to be on the court."

"Don't say that. Don't. Say. That." Desperation bleeds into Tashi's voice as she looks at you. "Do you remember what we agreed on during that after party? After our match?"

Your lack of a response tells her that you do. "We're going up there. Together. Next year. Doubles. Me and you. We're going to take over the world." Her fingers tap against the table. "You can't quit! You promised you would play with me! You promised you would. And we always keep our promises."

"Well maybe I'm fed up. Maybe I'm just done with it all." You sip your water. "Proving them wrong only seems to enhance the insults I get! It only makes things worse for me! And it only hurts you!"

"Why would it hurt me?" Tashi is in disbelief.

"Because I'm someone you shouldn't associate with. I shouldn't be playing with you! I don't deserve to! I'm a terrible friend!" Your voice cracks. "I am so jealous of you Tashi. All the time. There's always this sick twisting in my stomach. And you deserve everything that you've gotten but I can't help but feel that some of it should go to me! But it doesn't because I'm the fat one! And no one wants to see a fat girl in an Adidas ad. And it's not fair to you because you didn't do anything! And I don't deserve to be friends with you or even play against your because I'm a terrible person!"

She doesn't respond. She's too busy looking at you, watching the way your face contorts with emotion, the way your tears fall from your eyes. It was like you were unloading everything.

Tashi hated seeing you cry.

"You can't quit tennis."

You look at her with shock. Is that all she could say after everything you dumped on her?

You expected her to fume, to lash out. Or maybe to tell you to go kill yourself. She's done her fair share of that to people. And yet, all she can tell you is that you can't quit tennis.

"You still somehow managed to make this about tennis."

Tashi leans forward, her hand taking yours. She enjoys the feeling of your soft skin. You always took great care of your skin, moisturizing constantly. If she needed some cream to moisturize her dried out hands, she could always ask you. You had so much in your purse. She could smell that lavender cream you used. Some said it was the scent only old people picked. But she found herself craving that lavender smell late at night in her bed.

"I understand...everything...you're saying. Remember that time we were talking? About how we both envy white girls and their opportunities and their easy life and their ability to get away with everything on the court." She remembers the thinly veiled racist remarks fired at the both of you when you were playing against white opponents. The rage she felt but couldn't exercise because letting her emotions run free would only make her the angry Black woman and they would instead penalize her.

"Tashi-"

"I don't hold it against you. That's...the way the game is right now." The both of you were playing a white man's sport. Unfortunately, this was the reality.

"It's...stupid. And ridiculous. You shouldn't even be friends with me!"

"(Y/N), I love you."

Your breath hitches in your throat. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Tashi Duncan...loves you? Even after everything you confessed? You wanted to say so many things, wanted to tell her that she was wrong to love you. She couldn't love you and shouldn't love you.

"Why?" is all you managed to muster out.

Her eyes soften. "I..." There were so many reasons why. Your laugh. Your determination. The way you ran your fingers through her hair when she laid her head on your lap. How soft you were. Your hugs. Your lips. Those unreturnable serves of yours. The way your skirts would hike up those thick thighs of yours. That serving tick of yours where you would tap the ball against the edge of your racket three times.

Her heart sinks when you pull your hand out of hers and stand up from your seat. You needed to take a walk. You needed to think for a minute.

"(Y/N)..." Tashi stands up to follow after you. She grabs your wrist and you turn around to look at her.

"Tashi...I don't...I don't deserve you-"

She leans forward, pressing her lips against yours harshly. You're shocked by the sudden feeling, taking a step backwards into the wall. Tashi cups your face with both of her hands, keeping you there. She pulls away, watching your face to see if you would react in any way. "(Y/N)..."

You close the gap between you two once more and place your hands on her waist, slowly guiding her to the bed as she gets lost in the smell of lavender.

[blueraineshadows]

Guitars, and Heart Strings

Sebastian Sallow x F!MC - angst, fluff, smut

🔞 NSFW 🌶 🔥 ❤️

This is a Request fic for the lovely @simpy-slytherin 💜🥰

Notes: The Legacy Gang have graduated, and they are getting ready to embark on their adult lives. One last night out together in Hogsmeade to kick off summer turns a little explosive for our favourite dueling partners...

The Three Broomsticks was packed out with patrons, Sirona rushed off her feet with the bustling bar filled with witches and wizards who had piled in for the evening's entertainment. Tonight, a local five piece band was playing, a group renowned for their foot stomping shanties and they were very popular.

The lead singer, in particular, was rather well known, a former Hogwarts graduate with a stunning voice and a gorgeous smile. Adam McNeil turned heads, there was no two ways about it.

"Oh, MC, what a beautiful man," Natty sighed. "I'd let him strum my strings any day of the week."

MC snorted a laugh and nudged her friend with her shoulder. "Natty! Just how many fire whiskey shots have you had already?"

Natty grinned. "Not nearly enough to pluck up the courage to go and introduce myself to Adam McNeil that's for sure."

The girls giggled, and MC looked over at Adam, her eyes widening a little as he met her gaze and gave her a smile. She immediately smiled back, a blush colouring her cheeks.

Natty noticed and nudged MC quite firmly with a boney elbow. "Did you see that? He smiled at you!" Natty looked at MC rolling her eyes. "How is this fair? Adam McNeil is giving you sexy smiles! Oh, to be you for one day, MC!"

"Honestly, Natty, you do not want to be in here," MC said, tapping her temple. "Way too much baggage lying around. Anyway, it was just a smile, he probably does that to everyone."

Natty didn't look convinced. "Come on, he was definitely looking at you," she said. She eyed MC a moment. "Or are you playing this down because you've got your eye on someone else?"

MC gave her a look. "We've been over this," she said. "Seb and I are best friends. He's a flirt, sure, but I don't think it goes any further than that."

"But, you want it to, right?"

MC shrugged. "Maybe. I don't want to mess up what we have though, he is too important to me. I would hate it if things got weird."

Natty nodded. "For what it's worth, I think you would make a great couple. But, I understand your worries." She glanced back towards Adam McNeil and smiled. "You could always try a little flirtation with someone else. Adam is looking at you again."

MC turned to see, and Natty was right. MC felt the beginnings of another blush as she smiled back. Again. She took Natty's arm. "Come on, let's get back to the others."

The whole gang had turned out for tonight. MC stared at the table of her friends as her and Natty approached, her heart full of love for them. They had become her family over the last three years. All of them. They were all crammed around one table, chatting and drinking, laughter spilling out freely now that all the exam stress was done.

They were free. It was almost scary.

MC smiled fondly at Poppy, who was practically sitting in Ominis' lap, her little hand clamped firmly around his. She doted on him, her eyes full of her adoration every time she looked at him.

Poppy gave her a sheepish smile. "I did try to save your seat, but then Garreth and Leander arrived."

Both red headed Gryffindors looked up, big smiles as they greeted her. Maybe she'd had a few too many shots of firewhiskey, because she threw her arms around the both of them and planted a kiss on their cheeks. "It's good to see you guys," she said. She meant it. The potential to not see any of them again hurt more than she wanted to admit.

As she pulled away from the Gryffindor lads she met a pair of brown eyes that always set her pulse fluttering. Sebastian's eyes blazed with something, glittering dangerously as his hand clasped her wrist possessively. He tugged her away from Garreth and Leander and patted his lap. "There's a seat right here for you, MC," he said.

MC eyed his lap. Oh, it was tempting. Her heart started pounding at the thought of it. She didn't trust herself to do it though, the proximity combined with the alcohol might lead her into dangerous territory. Her chat with Natty had brought all her torment over Sebastian to the forefront of her mind.

Turns out she didn't have a choice. Sebastian had her wrist in his grip, his smirk dangerous as he tugged her down onto his lap, his hand planting firmly just above her hip. She gasped as she tried not to spill her drink, adjusting herself so she was a bit more comfortable. Their gazes met and she bit her lip at the possessive satisfaction in his gaze.

"Someone is feeling rather hands on this evening," she quipped.

"Only thinking of your comfort, MC," he said. "It's not very gentlemanly to leave a lady standing now, is it."

"A real gentleman would have given up his chair, not manhandled said lady into his lap," she said, poking him in the chest.

"Ah, but this is much more fun," he said. "I'm at a better advantage for annoying you, and I know how much you love it when I do that."

"Bloody hell, would you two just fuck already?" Garreth said across the table.

MC gaped at him. "Garreth!"

Sebastian's fingers gripped her hip a little tighter as Garreth laughed and shrugged, he held his hands out. "What? We're all thinking it. I'm just saying it out loud."

MC glanced around the table and everyone was suddenly very interested in something else, their drink or the band, anything but her gaze. Poppy gave her an apologetic look. MC turned to Sebastian and was met with a rather smug smirk. She narrowed her eyes. "Hands where I can see them, Sallow," she quipped.

He laughed and held both hands up in surrender. "My hands are at your command." His wink sent a shiver down her spine. Oh, she had a few ideas of what he could do with those hands. MC looked down at her drink and the thought crossed her mind that she should watch herself, too many of those and her restraint might snap.

See? Dangerous territory.

The chatter round the table continued, the table becoming cluttered with their empty drinks. The band continued to play and the atmosphere in the pub became rather lively. MC tried not to think about the feel of Sebastian's hand at her hip, or the fact that he barely took it away from that spot. She felt the rumble of his laughter through his chest where her arm was against it. Every now and then his breath would tickle the loose strands of hair at her neck where it had slipped from her clip, she rubbed her hand there once as it tickled and he noticed. He smirked and blew gently onto her skin, making the loose strands of hair dance and goosebumps erupt down her arm. Her nudge and gentle scolding just made him smile wider.

Feeling fidgety, she squirmed a little in his lap and heard his breath hiss through his teeth, his hands stilling her hips. "Sorry, am I squishing you?" She asked.

He shook his head and shifted her ever so slightly himself, adjusting his seating. Her bottom brushed up against something hard and she wriggled to get comfortable, whatever was in his pocket was rather annoying. He made a small, low sound and she glanced at him to see colour flooding into his cheeks, his eyes dark pools of utter temptation. Realisation flooded through her, and desire pierced right through her core. Oh, fuck!

Her eyes flew to Natty. "Fancy a dance, Nats? I need to burn off some energy," she said. She risked another awkward glance at Sebastian before she slid from his lap, her legs a little wobbly as she clasped Natsai by the hand. "Come on, you can drool over Adam McNeil while we dance."

....*...

Adam fucking McNeil. Sebastian's hand curled into a fist on his thigh. MC, Poppy and Natty were dancing, laughing, and Adam McNeil's eyes were lingering for far too long on MC for his liking.

Sebastian's gaze travelled over MC as she danced, her hips swaying, her arse perfect in those tight little trousers she wore. He adjusted the crotch of his trousers, a little embarrassed that she had caused him to get a little too aroused when she sat on his lap. The look on her face had been priceless though!

Even her blouse was close fitting this evening, the throat open exposing her collar bones, the mini corset vest she wore accentuated the exquisite curve of her waist and pushed her breasts up in a way that made his mouth go dry.

Unfortunately, he wasn't the only one who had noticed. The singer, this Adam McNeil that the girls were all sighing over, was watching MC too closely, his gaze following her as she danced and offering up little smiles her way. What was worse, she was smiling back.

"That lead singer loves himself a bit doesn't he?" He grumbled.

Imelda huffed a laugh. "What's not to love? He's talented, devilishly handsome, and charming beyond belief," she said. She gave Sebastian a sly look. "And if my eyes don't deceive me, he seems to have taken an interest in our very own Hero of Hogwarts. I'd say that's what your pissed about, not how Adam views himself."

Sebastian glared at her. "Who says I'm pissed off?"

She laughed. "I'm just spitting facts, Sallow. If you want to get your dick wet, I'd quit whining and do something about it, before someone else does."

Ominis nearly choked on his butterbeer. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "My sentiments exactly, although I might have chosen my words a little more eloquently."

"Oh, don't you start," Sebastian sighed. He stood and fished in his pockets for his coins. "I need another drink."

Waiting at the bar, Sebastian seethed. The song had ended and the band were taking a moment to have a drink and wipe their sweaty faces with towels. They chatted amongst themselves, but Adam only had eyes for MC. He beckoned her over and she went, her smile lighting up her face. Adam bent to say something into her ear and she nodded, then moved to say something back to him. Sebastian did not like the way Adam looked at her, he didn't like it at all.

He grit his teeth and reminded himself that he had given up the use of Unforgivables a long time ago. But his wand felt heavy and willing in his pocket as MC put her hand on Adam's arm and laughed.

....*....

MC was loving this evening. She paused in her dancing, a little out of breath, her blood pumping pleasantly, the alcohol giving her a brilliant buzz.

"I love this band!" She said to Natty. "I haven't danced like this in so long."

"They play around the Highlands regularly," Natty said. "Maybe we should go to other gigs?"

"Oh, yes, I would love to!" MC beamed. Not only at seeing the band play again, but at the thought of meeting up with her friend. She desperately didn't want to lose touch.

"I think Adam might be pleased to see you there too," Natty said. "Not that I am jealous or anything."

MC put her arm around Natty and gave her a squeeze. "I told you, its nothing, just a bit of harmless fun."

They went back to the table to quench their thirst, MC returning to Sebastian, but she hesitated at the sour look on his face. She put her hand on his shoulder. "Everything alright?"

He pulled out of her touch and nodded tightly. "Couldn't be better," he said.

MC frowned. She was having too much of a good time and she did not want to deal with one of his mood swings right now.

"Suit yourself," she shrugged.

She picked up her drink and moved towards Leander instead. She tapped him on the shoulder. "Can I sit here?" She asked.

"Oh, of course," he said. He immediately went to stand to offer her his chair. She giggled and pushed him back down. "No, no, silly. I meant here." She patted her hand on his thigh and he blushed a brilliant shade of red.

He froze, his hands held out awkwardly, as MC sat on his thigh and slung her arm around his shoulders. She turned to pointedly stare at Sebastian, one eyebrow raised. If he wanted to be a misery, she would give him something to sulk about. His mouth tightened subtly and she smirked. Serves him right.

"Is this alright?" She asked Leander quietly. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Erm, yeah, it's alright," he said.

She smiled. "I don't mind sitting on your lap. You're a gentleman, Leander," she said. "I trust you completely."

The band finished their song and MC turned to clap enthusiastically along with everyone else. Sebastian sat there without moving a muscle.

Adam wiped his face with a towel and then picked up an acoustic guitar. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen," he said, loudly. His voice carried across the room beautifully. "This next song is a bit slower, if that's alright, and I would like to dedicate it to a rather lovely young lady in the room. She knows who she is."

Adam's gaze met MC's and she felt her cheeks warm considerably, and then he winked. Adam McNeil fucking winked at her! She put her hand to her chest, flattered beyond belief. She stared back at Adam, stunned, as he began to play his guitar.

The song was considerably stripped back, and when Adam sang, she felt herself melting. She hadn't even noticed how her fingers were digging into Leander's shoulder until he shifted it under her. She released her grip, muttering an apology.

Adam kept his eyes on her, and people were starting to notice.

"Fucking hell," Imelda muttered behind her. "He is absolutely singing that to MC!"

MC swallowed, and she broke eye contact with Adam to glance at Sebastian. His face might as well have been carved from stone. His eyes were cold fury as he glared towards the band, towards Adam, and then he looked at her. MC almost flinched at the coldness she saw there in his eyes.

She had to look away. She felt uncomfortable all of a sudden, confused. How many times had she sent signals to Sebastian and got nowhere? Their playful flirting was apparently just that, playful. And now he was jealous? Of Adam?

Tonight was supposed to be about fun, and it had been. And as for Adam, how could she not be flattered? He was utterly charming, and he was looking at her in such a way that made her feel good. She was not owned by anyone, she did not need permission to have fun, and she was not going to let Sebastian Sallow get under her skin. Let him sit and stew in his jealous misery.

She stood up from Leander's lap, thanking him for allowing her to sit there, and she moved to the bar, ignoring Sebastian completely. She needed a drink.

....*...

"Must you insist on being an insufferable fool," Ominis snapped. He put a long fingered hand to his brow and squeezed. "Quit whining and moaning, you're rather spoiling the mood of the whole evening."

Sebastian eyed his best friend, his lips twisted into a sour grimace of envy. "Oh, and I suppose you would be quite content to sit there whilst some back street singer started fawning all over Poppy, would you?"

"That is entirely different," Ominis said, his brow creasing with annoyance.

"I don't see how," Sebastian muttered. He folded his arms, pouting miserably. He leant back against the barrels outside the Three Broomsticks, out here getting some much needed air away from the band inside the pub. He didn't think he could stand another minute of watching Adam McNeil flirting with MC, and seeing her enjoy it.

"It is completely different," Ominis huffed. He leant in towards Sebastian, stern faced. "I had the balls to ask Poppy to be my girl, and I'm rather glad that I did. I get to hold her hand whenever I like, I get to kiss her whenever I like. Unlike yourself, who makes a rather big show of being an insufferable flirt, but you haven't got the nerve to actually tell MC how you really feel!"

Sebastian stared at Ominis, a flush beginning to creep up his neck. A slither of envy coiled in his gut thinking of how Ominis had mentioned being able to kiss his girl whenever he wanted.

"If another man even dared to think about laying a finger on Poppy, then I would absolutely be furious. Only I get to do that. You, however, have no right to sit there sulking and spoiling MC's evening just because you're not getting your own way," Ominis continued. "And if she does end up leaving the bar with that singer, then you've only yourself to blame!"

Sebastian gaped. "What? She will not be leaving the bar with him! Not if I have anything to do with it!"

Ominis looked pained. Sebastian cared little, he was too busy imagining MC leaving in the arms of that bloody singer. His hand slid into his pocket and gripped his wand tight. Over his fucking dead body she would. MC was his! How could she not be?

They had shared more in the last few years than some did in a lifetime. There would be no life without her, not for him. He belonged to her, and she belonged to him. At least, that's how it was in his head.

What if it wasn't like that in her head? What if she went off with Adam and had this whole new life and forgot about him? Isn't that one of the fears that has kept his mouth sealed shut in the first place, her leaving him, forgetting about him?

Oh gods. He was going to have to tell her.

Sebastian's grip relaxed on his wand and he looked at Ominis. His shoulders slumped with the gutting realisation that once again, his friend was right. Why did he always have to be right?

"It must be rather smug to be you, Ominis," he groused. "Doesn't it get tiring being right all the time?"

"You have no idea, Sebastian," Ominis said, wearily. "When it comes to you, I feel I must be always one step ahead to prevent disaster."

Despite his sulk, Sebastian couldn't help but grin. He loved nothing more than keeping people on their toes, and he doubted he would ever stop.

Sebastian decided he needed another drink, a drop of courage. After all, he was about to go and tell the girl he loved how he felt before handsome Adam could whisk her away. He quite liked the idea of being able to kiss MC whenever he liked.

....*....

MC stood and clapped as the band finished their last song of this set. Adam said they would be taking a 30 minute break before returning to finish the evening off. Natty asked if she wanted another drink, and MC was about to say yes, but Natty's eyes had widened and she grabbed MC's hand. "Merlin, Adam is coming over here," she hissed.

"What?" MC turned and saw that Natty was right. His smile was devastating.

MC threw a quick glance back over towards their table, and her friends. Sebastian and Ominis were nowhere to be seen. Then she reminded herself that she didn't need to answer to anybody, she was her own person. It would be rude to ignore Adam, especially after he sang for her.

"Hello, ladies," Adam said.

"Hello," Natty replied. Her cheeks darkened in a deep blush. "You have been wonderful!"

"Oh, well thank you," he said. "It's always great to hear that people have enjoyed our music."

MC's lips curved into a smirk as she looked at Natty. She was fairly certain that it wasn't the music so much as the man delivering it that Natty was so enamoured by.

"I hope I'm not being too forward," Adam said, and he put a gentle hand to MC's elbow. "But, I was wondering if I might steal you from your friend for a few moments."

His Scottish accent was beautiful, soft and melodic, and MC was just staring. She felt the sharp pinch of Natty's fingers and mentally shook herself. "Oh, erm...sure?" She said, nervously.

She glanced at Natty who gave her a rigorous nod, practically shoving MC in Adam's direction. "Of course you can steal her," Natty said. "Can't he, MC? I don't mind."

Adam smiled. "MC? That's a bonnie name," he said. He met her gaze. "A bonnie name for a bonnie lass."

MC could have sworn she heard Natty utter a little whine. She threw her a look but Natty was waving her off, and Adam was taking her arm. MC felt a million butterflies erupt in her stomach. What in Merlin's name was happening here?

Adam led her over towards the corner near where there instruments were set up. MC eyed them curiously, some she recognised, others she wasn't so sure of. They certainly made for enjoyable music though when all played together.

"I was hoping to get a moment alone with you, MC," Adam said. "You've been a rather delightful distraction all evening, if you don't mind me saying."

She did not mind, she realised. "So, am I right in assuming that I was the girl you dedicated that song to? Or, do you say that to all girls?"

The twinkle in his eye had her flustered. "Only the really pretty ones," he said. He leant in a little closer, his intriguing scent surrounding her. "And you, MC, are beautiful. I couldn't resist stealing you away from your friends. Although, before I make a complete fool of myself, I thought I had better check something. Are you attached to any of the gentleman that are sitting with you this evening? I don't want to step on anyone's toes."

The way Sebastian had gone off in a sulk, you would think that someone had stomped on his toes with heavy boots. MC pushed the thought aside. She shook her head. "Nope, no gentleman or lady to tread on," she said. "I am a free spirit."

Was she? Her heart clenched a little, her confusing feelings for Sebastian churning away in there. However, Adam looked very pleased at this news, and his smile was so very lovely. "In that case, I would be honoured if you would like to share a drink with me while we're on our break. Would you like that?"

"I would," she agreed.

And that was how it started, how she found herself sipping whiskey with a gorgeous Scottish singer, and ended up perched on his lap while he tried to show her how to play his guitar. Never mind that she didn't have the first clue how to play, or that all the whiskey in her blood had released the flirt in her, MC was rather enjoying herself.

Adam brought his arm around to show her how to press her fingers onto the strings, arranging them into a chord on the fret board - a new term she had just learnt. His touch was firm but gentle, and she was surprised at how she didn't mind it all. It was more difficult than it looked, the strings hard under her soft finger tips. She held the strings down in the position he had arranged and then she strummed with her other hand.

She winced at the off sound it made. She giggled. "I think I should leave the music to the experts," she said. "You make it look so easy."

His breath tickled her ear as he spoke. "Ach, its only practise, MC," he said. "Everyone has to start somewhere. Have another wee go."

She looked down at the guitar and readied for another try. Adam's hand moved to her waist, the touch feather light, almost hesitant. Her breathing hitched a little, and while it certainly didn't feel terrible, a strange flush of guilt swept over her. It wasn't Sebastian's hand.

Trying to concentrate, she strummed the guitar, and this time it didn't sound so bad. She smiled, and Adam's hand pressed a little more firmly at her waist. "See? Much better this time," he murmured near her ear.

MC felt warmth spread through her at the same time a shiver slid down her spine. He was beginning to affect her, her thoughts growing hazy. It was so confusing. She wanted him to touch her, and yet all she could see was Sebastian's face. She swallowed, and cursed herself for drinking more blasted whiskey than she should have.

She should tell him. It wasn't fair to lead Adam on, she couldn't let him think she was available after all. She shifted on his lap, pushing the guitar forward so she could turn to him, her eyes locking on his very pretty ones. Oh, Merlin, he was even more lovely this close up.

The words were on the tip of her tongue, she didn't have a boyfriend, but she did have feelings for someone. And then his gaze dropped to her lips, he was leaning in, and her heart sped up in a mixture of excitement and panic. Oh, gods, he was going to kiss her!

And then a firm hand grabbed hold of her upper arm, she jumped, shocked, eyes flying up to meet with a pair of furious brown eyes.

"Don't even fucking think about it," Sebastian growled.

....*....

The band was no longer playing as Sebastian entered the bar, he made his way to order his drink, Ominis beside him. He glanced about looking for MC, nerves fluttering about what he might say to her. She wasn't at the table with the others and he frowned a little, his gaze swinging about the room.

He froze. There she was, sitting on Adam McNeil's lap, his hands on her as she tried to play his fucking guitar. He watched, livid, as Adam spoke into her ear and she smiled that beautiful smile of hers. No way. He wasn't having this.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he snapped.

"What is it?" Ominis asked.

But Sebastian didn't answer. He was moving, pushing his way through the bar to get to MC, he wasn't going to stand for another moment of Adam's hands on her. As he neared them, his eyes blazed as she turned to Adam, and the bastard was leaning in for a kiss.

Not on his fucking watch! He reached out, desperate, panic seizing him as he clamped his hand hard around her arm. He felt her jolt with shock, but he didn't loosen his grip. Couldn't, even if he wanted to. She looked up at him, surprised and a little fearful.

"Don't even fucking think about it." He ground the words out past the frightened fury in his throat. He couldn't lose her, he just couldn't.

"Sebastian!" She gasped his name, the sound of it breathless, pained almost.

Adam was looking between MC and him, confused. "Okay, easy now," he said slowly.

Sebastian glared at him. "Get your hands off her," he spat. He tugged at MC's arm. "Get up, now!"

MC struggled to put down the guitar whilst Sebastian was holding her so tightly, but he refused to let her go, his fingers clamped in a vice like grip. Adam took the guitar and then Sebastian hauled her up, dragging her out away from him.

"What are you doing?!" She cried. She tried to resist his pull, but he just tugged her harder. "Sebastian!"

She looked at Adam who was reaching out for her other hand. "I'm so sorry," she said, her eyes soft as she looked at him.

Sebastian's stomach churned with jealous rage and he clenched his teeth.

Adam frowned. "I thought you said you didn't have a boyfriend," he said. His eyes hardened as he looked at Sebastian.

MC shook her head. "I don't, but..."

Sebastian seized on that word. But what?

"...I'm so sorry," she finished.

He threw Adam a warning look to back off and began to head for the nearest exit, dragging MC along beside him. She tried to pull her arm free, and kept glancing back towards Adam, but Sebastian just wanted to get her out of there, away from Adam, away from all the eyes in the room that were now watching the drama unfold.

Sebastian didn't even try to seek out Ominis and the others. He knew all he would see was them with their heads in their hands. Oh look, Sebastian had spat his dummy out again. Fuck it! Right now, all he could see was red. And all he wanted was her, with him, and him alone.

....*....

Anger. That was her first reaction. How dare Sebastian drag her bodily out of the pub like that, and in front of everyone too! She had struggled as much as she could against his iron grip on her arm, but she hadn't wanted to create even more of a scene than they already were, so she let him take her outside.

Embarrassment. Oh, there was plenty of that! For one, she was fairly certain that she had been about to let Adam McNeil kiss her, and guilty shame flooded through her. Sebastian would have seen! Everyone could see. Inwardly, she was cringing.

Outwardly, she was firing daggers with her eyes as Sebastian dragged her across the cobbled street and down a path. He was the most insufferable prick sometimes! She yanked against his grip again, his fingers biting viciously into her muscle. This was going to bruise.

"Let me go," she demanded.

He looked at her. "No."

They carried on walking, her feet stumbling a little to keep up with his pace. "You're so bloody rude," she snapped. "How could you do that?"

"He was touching you," he said. Simple, controlled, matter of fact. "I didn't like it."

"Oh, you didn't like it?" She scoffed. She fumbled for her wand. "Well, I don't like this, so let me go!"

She thrust her wand up under his chin, pressing it against his flesh. He halted but didn't let her go. His eyes slid to hers. "I'd think very carefully about your next move, MC," he said. His words, spoken so silky smooth and dark, it sent a shiver down her spine. Her lips parted, her eyes locked with his.

No. She was mad at him, she couldn't let him distract her. She pressed her wand in to his neck a little more. "Like you did back there? Did you even think about it? Yanking me from Adam's lap like that! How dare you! You ought to go back and apologise for such roguish behaviour."

He scoffed. "Not fucking likely," he said. He leant in close, pushing his own neck against her wand, his skin becoming white and taut under the pressure. Her hand trembled a little. His eyes burned into hers. "He put his hands on you, MC. It was unacceptable."

"Unacceptable to whom, Sebastian?" She frowned. "Isn't it up to me who puts their hands on me?"

He swallowed, her wand jolting under the movement. That had to be seriously uncomfortable, but he didn't move back nor push her hand away. "Is that what you really wanted then? You wanted him to touch you. Looked like I interrupted a kiss too, how romantic of him, snogging you over his guitar."

Jealous prick! Inside she was pissed off at him, but also, quivering with delicious want. The balance was swinging madly and it was making her dizzy. He had no bloody right looking so attractive whilst pissing her off!

She couldn't resist the urge to niggle at him, rile him up, push him...to what end she had no idea. "It was rather romantic, at least I thought so. He had such gentle hands."

Sebastian's nostrils flared and his eyes raged. He stared at her, a war going on behind his gaze. Then he finally shoved her wand away from his neck, his hand released her arm and he turned away. He raked his hands through his hair and began to pace. He let out a frustrated growl through his teeth.

"So, one minute you're wriggling around on my lap...and don't pretend you have no idea what I'm talking about," he said giving her a look. "And then the next, you are off in the corner trying to snog the lead singer of the band. What are you playing at?"

She gaped. "Just what are you suggesting, Sebastian?"

"Not suggesting, asking," he said. "Are you deliberately trying to wind me up?"

"How is this suddenly all about you?" She cried. "I thought we were having a lovely evening, then you got all sulky and pissy, disappeared for a while, and then storm back to rip me so rudely away from Adam, and drag me bodily out of the pub! If anyone deserves to be cross here, it's me!"

"And if I hadn't pulled you off him? What then?" He demanded. "Would you have kissed him? Gone home with him?"

"I...I don't know!" She cried. "I didn't plan any of this, I was just enjoying my evening."

He looked crestfallen for a moment, before turning away, pushing his hand through his hair. "You really might have left with him?" He asked quietly. His voice dropped even lower and, if she had heard him correctly, his next words chilled her. "You would have left me."

"I wouldn't have gone home with him." She said. She had been about to tell Adam that she had feelings for someone else after all, she really hadn't planned on going anywhere with him.

He rubbed the back of his head with his hand and began to pace again. "You would have kissed him though, wouldn't you?"

She lowered her gaze to the path, suspecting he might be right on that front. Why should she feel so guilty? Why were they arguing about this? They weren't even a couple.

"Are you jealous?" She asked. Clearly, he was jealous, but would he admit it.

He stopped pacing and clenched his hands into fists. He gave her a sideways look. "Do you want me to be?"

She rolled her eyes. "For fuck sake, Sebastian, does everything have to be a game to you? Just answer the question. Are you jealous?"

His mouth tightened. She took a step towards him. "Yes or no? Shall I go back there, see if he fancies another try? I might let him."

"You will not," he hissed. He took hold of her upper arms. "You're not going anywhere."

"Going to stop me are you?" She taunted. Her pulse fluttered hotly, blood thrumming with whiskey and fire. "Now, why would you do that?"

"Because..." He stopped, lips clamping shut.

"Yes?" She leaned in towards him. He stared, wide eyed as she got closer and closer. His fingers were fisted in the sleeves of her blouse, but his arms bent as she invaded his space.

Her anger had shifted, twisting into fierce need. Adam didn't seem so important anymore. It was just Sebastian and her, alone on this little pathway in the dusky shadows of Hogsmeade.

He was so beautiful, she loved that face, had seen him go through all sorts of emotions with those eyes that she could drown in. She had pulled him through hurts, trauma, had fought beside him, cried in his arms. How could he ever think that she would leave him?

"I would never leave you, you know," she said, softly. His eyes flickered with a devastating flash of vulnerability. "Never."

"You should," he rasped. His breaths were coming quicker, more harried. "Why would you want someone as fucked up as me, when you could have someone like Adam?"

The broken sound of his voice crushed her.

"I don't want Adam," she whispered.

His eyes locked on hers. She put her wand away and took his face in her hands. "I want you."

His breathing faltered. "What?"

....*....

He had heard her right, hadn't he? He just stared at her, blankly, his mind empty of all thoughts and he scrambled to gather them.

Her hands, capable of such beauty and terror, were holding his face. The pads of her thumbs swept over his cheeks and his lungs screamed for him to draw a breath.

She wanted him.

Words were useless. They wouldn't come at his call, so he just pulled her closer, closing the gap, and claimed her lips with his own. At the first touch of her softness he knew he never wanted it to stop. He just held his lips there, unmoving, freeze framing this moment because he never wanted to forget it.

Her hands slid down his face, finger tips like searing torture as she smoothed them up behind his ears and into his hair. She broke contact with his lips to draw a breath and kissed him again, expelling the breath as a moan.

That's when he lost control of any restraint he may have been clinging on to. His mouth devoured her, stealing every gasp and moan she uttered as he swirled his tongue hungrily between her parted lips. His hands were swift, greedy, as they skimmed her hips, sliding around to grab her arse in those tight little trousers.

Oh, fuck, he throbbed with desperate need, his hips seeking hers as his hands pressed against peachy softness. Somewhere, in the back of his filthy mind, he was aware they were on a public path. He shuffled her backwards, unwilling to stop kissing her mouth, and pressed her up against a rough stone wall.

"Sebastian," she panted. Her fingers pulled at his hair, the tug sharp but highly arousing.

"Tell me again," he demanded. He nipped and licked along her jaw, burying his nose against her neck to breathe in her scent. He was dizzy with it, completely lost. His. And only his. "Tell me you want me."

His breaths guttered and a low moan slid from him as she rolled her hips seductively against him. "I want you," she sighed. "Please..."

He gripped her hips, forehead pressed to hers, staring down to where she was grinding against him. His cock was so hard, so fucking hot for her, that it was almost painful. "Let me fuck you," he begged. "Fuck..."

She was tugging at his vest, popping the buttons and then working on his shirt, as it opened she dragged her finger nails down his chest and he squeezed his eyes shut, clinging on to a semblance of control. He did not want to shoot his load too soon.

He growled through gritted teeth and pulled at the buttons of her trousers, opening them enough to get his hand in. "Oh, my..."

She was soaked, her underwear clinging to her damp flesh. His finger tips slid luxuriously through heavenly slick folds and he thought he might die. Delicious little mewls came from her lips as he boldly pressed two fingers into her, groaning at the soft heat of her tight walls. Now his cock was positively dripping with need to get in there.

He had once imagined the first time he would take her. He had the whole scene played out in his head, how he would light those little floating candles that she loved. Have a fire roaring in the grate and slowly kiss every inch of her.

This, this was nothing like that. But fuck, was it good.

He shoved her trousers roughly downwards, yanking one of her legs free of them, he lifted that gloriously bare leg and resumed his finger play, seeking out that perfect little nub. Her hips flexed and her finger nails bit like tiny teeth as she rutted against his hand.

He bit her lower lip, sucking it gently and tasting blood. "Does it feel good?" He asked. She nodded, dragging in her breaths. He pumped two fingers into her, his thumb dragging lazily over her clit. "Then tell me, tell me how you like it, and I'll give you more."

Her moan was sinful and he bent to suck at her neck, tasting her.

"More...Seb...please," she whimpered. "So good..."

He rubbed tighter, faster circles and she whined, a string of little cries left her and then she was cumming, clenching and bucking. She was fucking perfect and he wanted it all.

Not even waiting for her to calm down, he hosted her legs up and around him, lined himself up and slid his aching cock into her clenching, soaked pussy.

He had to take a few seconds to clear the haze of lust that clouded his vision, her hot tightness sucking him deeper until he thought he might pass out. Her hands were clutching at his shirt and vest that were hanging loosely from his shoulders, her mouth gulping, overwhelmed and shocked at how quickly he had done it.

"You feel amazing," he groaned. He adjusted his grip, one arm taking the weight of her pelvis, the other braced against the wall and he began to thrust.

Oh gods! His eyes rolled and his teeth clenched. He couldn't hold back. He was going to have some apologies to make after this, but he couldn't help it. She had driven him so wild that he was spinning out of control, fucking her so tight and hard she had to throw out a hand against the wall to brace herself.

"I'm...sorry," he panted. "Am I...hurting you?"

She gripped the back of his head. "Don't you dare stop," she said, through gritted teeth. "I want it...give me all of it."

Fucking hell! It was hot, it was fast and stars exploded behind his eyelids as his cock finally let go, throbbing deliciously as he pumped her full of himself.

He was breathing hard, so happy, so overwhelmed. He took her face in his hands, could feel her trembling against him.

"I love you, MC," he said fiercely. "You're mine, all mine, and I am never letting you go."

"Promise?" She whispered. She put her hands over his, her eyes glittering with tears. "Promise me you'll never let me go."

"I Promise," he said. "And you know me, I never go back on my word."

She looked up at him and his heart swelled to almost bursting point. "I do know you," she said. "And I love you and I'm going to make you a promise too. I will never leave you, Seb. I physically couldn't do it. I wouldn't be able to breathe."

He held her, tight, eyes closed, savouring everything about this moment. She was his, and he was hers, and it was no longer just in his head. It was real.

[chaptersleftunwritten]

(6. New Years Eve and 11. New Apartment) For my ficlet event with Steve Harrington with hints of Eddie Munson! And yes… I did request this one myself , also! Feel free to send any prompts in with your desired character! Xoxo

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, smoking, drugs… let me know if I’ve missed anything.

Apartment block 2, House No. 11

Your new home across the landing from a handsome stranger whose name you hadn’t acquired yet. He was sweet enough to help the moving men you had hired up the multi-storey stair case with your sofa and furniture— unfortunately you weren’t there to witness it. But you had been told.

You would always glimpse parts of his life as you walked by his front door. There would be laughter and noise coming from inside, groans of agitation when the sports games were on and live electric guitar being played throughout the supposing quiet hours of the day. Sometimes you could have sworn that you could smell hints of marijuana seeping in through your open window from the fire escape.

He didn’t seem like a smoker— but who were you to label him? You didn’t know him. Not yet.

It was New Year’s Eve and you watched from the comfort of your sofa as the night fallen city roared to life. People in glittering dresses and party hats. Empty beverage bottles and metal cans littered the streets and you watched drunken revellers sway and sing as they dragged themselves along the concrete below your window. The clock had barely just struck 8 p.m. and you would be lying if you said you weren’t shocked to see people celebrating this early.

However, maybe you were just feeling a little sour because you had nowhere to go. No party to attend. No friends to catch up with.

The joys of starting a new life in a new city.

You feed yourself the last bite of ice cream and as you set the empty ceramic bowl and spoon into the sink with a clank and bang that’s when you first hear the speakers playing through the wall. A thumping bass that seems to rattle every bone in your body.

In the stairwell you can hear people spilling into the apartment next door, not caring to keep their voices down as they pile inside. The masses grow and by 8:30 p.m. the place is packed full of sweaty, drunken fools bringing in the close to the year.

Dread settles within you and you find momentary solace on the fire escape, breathing in the fresh cool air— until someone else seems to feel the need to join you there.

“You must be the new neighbour! Welcome to the jungle.” His cigarette cherry illuminates his face and casts complimentary shadows across his chiselled bone structure. You try to pinpoint if you have seen him before, but your mind comes up blank. You don’t recognise his long, unruly dark hair and the black tattoos inked across his pale skin.

He seemed friendly enough, trying to spark a mediocre conversation with you. But you weren’t in a very talkative mood. You just wanted some peace and quiet. You wanted to be able to hear yourself think.

“Aren’t you gonna come and join the party? It’s New Year’s!” He exclaims as he flicks his cigarette bud across the railing and your eyes watch it as it plummets to the ground below. Still lit at the end.

Horror startles you into a frenzy as the man starts to climb over toward your perched body and you splay your hands out flat in front of you, “No, no! Don’t come over here— you might fall!” To your dismay and bewilderment, he makes it across to you safely and only now are you able to truly look at him in all of his Metal glory.

“M’ Eddie, by the way. Harrington’s friend.” His thumb shoots back to where he had clambered over from and at the confusion that crosses your face he laughs before crossing his arms over his chest and tucking his ringed fingers beneath his armpits, “Steve. Steve Harrington. Your neighbour?”

A newfound sense of clarity washes over you and you nod meekly, slightly embarrassed, “We haven’t been introduced yet, I suppose. It’s nice to put a name to a face.” You shrug your shoulders and Eddie leans lesuirely against the rusted railing behind him.

“Why don’t you come over then? Be all neighbourly and crash his party. I’m sure he would love to see you there.” Alongside the lilt in Eddie’s voice and the wide grin on his face it hinted to you that he knew something that you didn’t and it made you nervous but all the more curious to know what he meant.

You found yourself wondering what Steve’s apartment looked like. How it was decorated; what colours did he like? What colours did he hate? Did he live alone or was he in a relationship? Any pets? What did he do for work?

You were intrigued. So intrigued that you allowed this stranger to convince you to attend the party next door.

And when you walked in side by side with Eddie, you felt as though you had this gravitational pull that forced eyes to wander to you. They would settle on you for a second or two before they would drift back to whatever they were focused on before your arrival. It gave you a brief power trip. You felt desired. Welcomed.

“Hey, Harrington!!” Eddie used his fingers to whistle over the deafening music and the sight of Steve turning his heated gaze to settle on you made you want to melt into a puddle. His eyes were so warm and glossy— like honey. If you weren’t careful, you could get lost in them, “I set up this official meet, thank me later,” with a dramatic cough of his throat Eddie continues, “Steve this is neighbour, Neighbour this is Steve. Enjoy.” With a not so subtle wink Eddie disperses to somewhere located within the premises and you are left standing with Steve. Finding yourself rather jealous of the volume in his hair.

“It’s nice to meet you— finally.” He smiles down at you and you fight back a blush. You were meeting him under totally normal circumstances however you were still quite flustered by the fact that you hadn’t introduced yourself before now. It had been a few weeks and you hadn’t spoken to one another; not even once. You felt you could’ve insulted him— you thought of yourself as rude.

However, with Steve’s soft demeanour, you were led to believe otherwise. Maybe he was just as embarrassed as you.

“It’s nice to meet you too! It’s strange how formal Eddie made it but I’m glad he invited me nonetheless.”

“I was going to invite you,” a sheet of panic washes over Steve, “I just wasn’t sure if you were the type to enjoy parties…”

Excuses, excuses.

The actual reason he hadn’t invited you was because he thought you were cute— gorgeous, even, and he was a bit too bashful to just come straight out and talk to you. He knew that a party invitation could have been a good ice breaker, but he was also aware that it could have made him out to be a total jackass. And that was the last thing he wanted.

“I get it, don’t worry! I’m here now.” You’re smiling up at him, much more relaxed than you were before, and Steve settles into your presence like a you were a friend he had known for years. He liked you. You were polite and respectful.

“So, any New Year’s resolutions? Mines is that I should definitely stop drinking so much beer.” It made you giggle as you watched him finish off his can of Bud and you tap your index finger against your lips, lost in a beat of thought.

“Mines would be that I should talk to my neighbours more often— I met one of them recently and they seem to be really nice. Hopefully he stays that way.” You were proud of how your confidence had sky rocketed within the last 10 minutes and Steve wiggles his eyebrows at you knowingly.

“I’m sure he’ll remain that way. Especially since his neighbour is a total heartthrob and a sweetheart.” He blamed the alcohol for his flirtatious forwardness but he couldn’t help it. Not with you looking up at him like that.

You shake your head as you laugh, scanning around his living room for any signs of an untouched drink, “If he play his cards right he might end up with a New Year’s kiss at the end of the night— but first, I need a drink. Have you got any?”

He nods a little too eagerly and your heart swells and swoons in your chest. You were kicking yourself at the fact you had left this interaction untouched for so long. What were you so afraid of? Steve was like a puppy dog.

“Wait here, I’ll go and grab you one from the fridge.” You watch as he swivels and swerves through the sea of dancing bodies and you keep your feet planted exactly where they were on the hardwood floor. Excited for Steve’s return.

Beer pong, shots and drunken charades had all been filtered in throughout the night. 12 a.m. was fast approaching and the adrenaline flooding your veins at the thought of stealing a kiss from Steve left you buzzing with happiness and nerves.

You eyed him from across the room, admiring his black suit jacket and his perfectly styled hair. You watched as he interacted with his friends and party guests— so kind and nurturing. It only cemented your agenda.

As soon as that countdown began, you were running to him. And luckily for you— you didn’t have long to wait.

“1 minute everybody!!” Someone screams from your side, their voice bellowing in your ear and grabbing your attention. Your heart flutters in your chest and as you look back over at Steve you are pleasantly surprised to see that he is also looking at you. You chew on your bottom lip in anticipation, all girlish and excited for what the near future holds.

“10…” You freeze as the chant begins.

“9…” You prepare yourself, setting your cup down on a random flat surface.

“8…” You feel like your heart is beating outside of your chest.

“7…” Steve’s hands twitch with longing and you watch his face contour with nerves.

“6…” You are making your way over to him, your feet are quick against the hard and slightly sticky floor.

“5…” It’s a fight against bodies and time, and Steve is quick to try and meet you through the crowd.

“4…”You begin to fret that you won’t make it to him in time, sandwiched between a couple who are already making out.

“3…” Steve rounds the couple and takes your wrists into his smooth but massive hands.

“2…” It’s all eye contact now. Unwritten permission being asked.

“1…” You nod feverishly. And in a blink of an eye Steve’s lips are on yours as chaos ignites around your stilled bodies. His fingertips trace and tangle through your hair as he cups your face closer to his. Your shaky hands steady themselves on his broad and plump chest and you struggle to breathe as you devour one another.

“Happy New Year!!” The crowd scream but you and Steve remain unmoved and entangled in one another.

It really was a Happy start to the New Year indeed.

[livingdeadmlm]

Kinktober Day 2: Voyeurism with Javier Escuella

Pronouns: The reader isn't referred to as a man, but it is said that if they were to sleep with men, they could be in danger.

Physical Sex: can be any gender

How far are things going?: Not full-blow sex; however, both Reader and Javier are jerking off at the same time.

Warnings: jerking off, Javier being a pervert, the reader being into it. MDNI

Outline: Reader has been cought bu Javier before, but that dosent stop reader from having some me time again. Especially when they spot a fimilair shape around their tent late at night

What inspired me to write how I did: Nothing!

Other: If you have any characters you want featured this month send an ask! and i will try to fit them in as i am trying to write for more people this month!!

Long days can lead to even longer nights if you have the energy. But you didn’t have the privilege of bedding up with someone as you didn’t quite fancy women, and well if you attempted to ask another man, you were sure to be run out of town on a good day and worse on any other. So here you sat, aching in your tent alone. While some men were still dragging themselves around, most weren’t of a clear mind or even thinking of stopping by your tent. 

Your belt clinked lightly as you pulled off your heavy jeans. You kept your underwear on for plausible deniability in Case another incident occurred, like a few weeks ago. 

The campfire had almost been ash as you began to palm yourself through your jeans. It was hard to ignore your desire for virtually any of the men in camp. However, one man seems explicitly to always make comments about you. Javier. 

“Hey, Jefe! Are those new pants? Went out to spoil yourself, huh?” “Hey, why don’t you join me for a little knife play? It's getting boring just playing with myself.” When he played his music other times after the incident, he would always stare if you went to your tent, even for just a moment.

A night just like this one, except you two were the only ones in camp; you took the opportunity with great stride to get yourself off. You’d grown used to touching yourself in silence, but it never hurt to have the time to be able to moan and move around on your cot. The gentle guitar playing lets you know that 1. Javier was busy, and 2. There was some noise close enough to him to drown you out. So you started.

You yanked down your pants, pulling down your underwear to go to town on yourself. Oddly enough, the music Javier played helped you keep the rhythm. You were so in your mind imagining a man taking over and touching you himself and marking up your neck and taking a firm hold on your hair. A man kissing you with so much desperation that it felt like he wanted to be one with you. 

Soft moans escaped your mouth as you lost focus on everything else. Losing so much focus, you didn’t hear the music stop; you didn't see the shadow of Javier's body grow large against your tent before he made his entrance. “Amigo! Why don’t you join me by the fire-? OH SHIT.” He had fallen backward on his ass, yelling he was sorry in both languages he knew in a panic. You heard his footsteps retreat to the campfire and a bit farther. 

You sat up in your bed, pulling the wool blanket over yourself. You felt like you were on fire. You did not want him to see you like that when you two didn’t even spend much time together in the first place. Who goes from glances and longing stares when one didn’t have a shirt on to see the other jerk off? Javier. 

While you couldn’t fully indulge, being able to get any friction seemed to melt away the day's stress. The feeling of your hands being muffled by your underwear was a different type of pleaser that made you feel more desperate. The pit in your stomach got warmer as you imagined being walked in again; maybe this time, he’d step in and join you instead of walking out. Despite the work you all did, his lips looked soft, contrasting his strong nose and stern features. His hair is well taken care of and brushed daily to frame his face perfectly. A low groan escaped your throat. Since he has walked in on you, he gave you a new nickname, Jefe. You weren’t sure what it meant because when you had asked random city Spanish speakers you ran into, they looked at you confused. It means “Boss.” He had been teasingly calling you “boss,” which confused you for such a strong character he had. While you didn't take things lying down, you also weren't as overpowering as he was.

He also began giving you items of clothing he had for you to wear, such as his shawl, his red tie, and even his hat, which he got a kick out of. He’d almost get offended if you took it off. 

The soft glow of the lantern you kept outside your tent caught a shadow. Before panicking, you realized the figure was slowly moving outside your tent, a very familiar bowler hat being unmistakable. You couldn’t help but continue the touches as the figure settled beside your cot and sat on the outside floor. You let out a small moan, watching for movement and movement you saw.

Javier leaned back, making a small dent in your tent's wall, and from the sound of the fabric moving, you could tell he was also taking his pants off. The slight rattle of the chain that adorned his vest gave away the rhythm of his hand movement. You matched his movement, letting a low string of moans leave your mouth just for him to hear. Over the next few seconds, his boots scraped against the dirt, and an idea hit you. 

“Oh, Javier..!”

You saw his body tense, but his hand never stopped moving. You felt flushed. If he had been caught, would he want you to see? You didn’t want to ruin the illusion, so you kept at the small gasps and sounds. His choked breathing could be heard, with a slight wet sound that felt so dirty. His shadow showed that he had moved to his knees, one hand bracing himself against the ground. You couldn’t help but imagine being under him or on top of him. Were his eyes open? Half lidded? Or were they closed to focus on the noises you were making? Would he whine more if you were masturbating together?

You finally reached into your underwear to keep up with the speed he was going. You continued to moan his name before it became cries, and you finally came undone. Your legs felt weak as Javier let out a hushed moan. His pants slowed down, as did your own. His body slumped back down once again, leaning on your tent wall. You didn't want to speak to him directly and hoped his horned-up mind would ignore it. In your best sultry voice, you whispered, "Hmm, I should ask him to join someday.” You saw him perk up, slowly get up from his sitting spot, and stumble back to his tent for the night. You couldn’t help the butterflies in your stomach at the idea of him joining you next time you wanted to have some alone time.

[girlwtdragontattoo]

Yandere Bard x Reader - Say you're mine

Universe: Baldur's Gate 3 or DnD

Follow up to the introduction of Elphael and his nightly fantasies, this is my yandere OC.

Summary: your childhood, musical friend is madly in love with you, fantasizing about you in secret and planning to make you his. He has written a song about you and thinks your compliments mean more than you intend.

Warning: 18+ content, general nsfw, toxic, obsessive behavior, self deprication

The song in this fic is below, they're an awesome band:

-----

He felt nervous. Rereading his lyrics, he was sure nothing directly referenced you. But what if you suspected him? Maybe you noticed his lingering eyes. Or the way his breath quickened when your thigh briefly touched his. He was always so obvious, damn it! And yet, you still stayed with him. That had to mean something…?

You looked over the new notes Elphael had provided for you. Your eyes flew over the lyrics and a small smile grew upon your visage.

Oh, Elph is really into someone! you thought. This idea excited you. He never acted particularly concerned with love. The topic always made him fidget, wanting to move on from it fast. It was nice to see that he was open to it now. You had tried to introduce him to people, you thought he’d like previously, but he never really showed any interest. You had decided to let the idea rest, it was his decision after all. But now, wow! The raw emotion in the words, this had to be something!

Elphael watched you from afar, his face engulfed in heat. You would figure it out. You surely would.

You started tuning your guitar, practicing your parts quietly. The curtains muffled the patron’s loud conversation in the bar behind it.

The drow let out a jittery sigh. You didn’t seem that bothered by the words, which calmed him slightly. He wasn’t ready to tell you, although his entire being ached to do so for an age. He instructed the other band mates on tempo changes and note enhancement to keep himself occupied. He dared not get too close to you, in fear of losing it.

It was time. The announcement had sound.

The curtains were raised. Elphael bowed to the patrons and the whole room blurred. He felt you close, which simultaneously calmed and terrified him. Taking a deep breath, he nodded and the band erupted in song.

He could hear faint squealing from some of the loyal fans at the front of the stage. They usually forced flowers or stupid notes into his hands, asking him on dates or leaving locations on where to meet them after the show. He never really cared for their flattery. You were all he thought about. And you hadn’t asked to meet him under a dank light after the performance. If you had...

The drow stood at the front, with you strumming wildly to the song he secretly dedicated to you. He opened his mouth and took another deep breath, starting to sing the words he longed to scream into your face:

Say you're mine, don't leave me hanging by myself

The band echoed in the background with the words: you make me lose my mind

Can't think of anybody else because every time you come around

Oh darling, all I want is you

Say you're mine, we'll get it right, get it right

(You make me lose my mind)

Got me going crazy every time

I've never played with fire

But I guess it's something about you-ooh

The band played the interlude, the swelling of the music made his skin shiver.

Lately, I've been tryna find a way out of my shell

Reconcile my own emotions by myself

Stay alone and claim it's for my mental health

The band let out an excited note in unison. He heard you join in the harmony.

(Say you're mine)

He knew you were just singing with him. But hearing those words from you sent chills down his scarred spine.

Don't leave me hanging by myself (you make me lose my mind)

Can't think of anybody else because every time you come around

All I want is you-ooh

Say you're mine! Got me going crazy every time I've never played with fire, but I guess there's nothing I can do

The crowd errupted in applause once the song had ended. The fans at the front screeched when Elphael’s eyes flew over them, thinking he noticed them. In reality, he was trying to stop himself from looking back at you, gazing anywhere else, fearful of you having caught on. You swung your arm around his shoulder and bellowed cheers into his ear. You were happy for the grand execution of the song, but also that he showed such vulnerability.

You thought the growing indigo blush on his face was due to the excessive squealing from the patrons.

The applause faded as you and Elphael made your way to the bar, adrenaline still coursing through your veins from the performance. You ordered your usual drinks - a honeyed mead for yourself and dark ale for him. As you settled onto the worn wooden stools, you couldn't contain your excitement any longer.

"Elph, that song was amazing! I had no idea you could write like that," you gushed, eyes shining with pride for your friend. "It was so... raw and passionate. You must really be into someone."

Elphael's grip on his tankard tightened imperceptibly. He forced a casual shrug, taking a long swig of ale to buy himself time. "It's just a song," he mumbled, not meeting your gaze.

What if you could read him now?

But you weren't about to let it go so easily. "Come on, you can tell me! Who is it??? Is it someone I know?” You pushed your elbow into him, teasing. Elphael’s stomach dropped at your touch and couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. He was a bit ticklish; you knew this.

“It’s a secret…”, he uttered sheepishly. You sat so close to him, your leg was practically on his. He didn’t dare look anywhere, but straight ahead, since his face was already an unusual shade of blue.

You turned towards him and took another big gulp of your drink. Your eyes squinted as you thought long and hard about who it could be. Elphael talked to the kitchen staff a lot. Could it be one of them? Or was it someone outside the inn?

“Come on…”, you purred, leaning closer to him. Elphael’s eyes turned to you. If he moved his head, your lips would touch. Should he do it and pretend it was an accident?

He pondered this too long, you had already moved your face away to make room to swing your arm around him again.

“You can tell your old bud!”, you beamed at him.

Elphael chuckled, mostly to mask his annoyance at the word “bud”.

His mind raced, searching for a way out of this predicament. He couldn't tell you the truth, but he didn't want to lie outright either. His gaze darted around the tavern, desperately seeking inspiration.

"Alright, alright," he conceded with a sigh, his gravelly voice barely audible over the din of the bar. "There is... someone."

Your eyes lit up with excitement, and Elphael felt a pang in his chest. They sparkled like starlight, partly why he was so enthralled by you. You were waiting for him to continue and the drow shook his head slightly to concentrate.

"I met them a while ago, during one of our…shows," he began, weaving truth and fiction together. "They have this... presence about them. It's hard to describe. When they walk into a room, it's like everything else fades away."

Elphael paused, taking another swig of ale to steady himself.

“When I hear their voice, it makes me go crazy. I could never tire of it. And they are…”, he looked at you briefly, studying your features in seconds, “absolutely stunning. In every way."

You were clapping your hands in excitement, delighted at this information. You had always wished Elphael would find someone, because you truly felt he deserved all the love in the world.

“That’s amazing, Elph!”

The drow felt another sweet twinge at the sound of his nickname. He adored it.

“Well, have you told them? Are you going to tell them? Are they here?!?!” You turned around and looked frantically from one end of the bar to the other, trying to spot the person Elphael could be describing.

You were so cute. But he wanted you to look at him.

He put his hand on your shoulder and pulled you to face the bar again.

“Stop staring at strangers…”, he laughed, but there was a distinct assertiveness in his voice. Your attention belonged to him.

You turned back to face Elphael, your eyes blinking at his sudden change in tone. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," you said softly. "I'm just so excited for you! Have you told them how you feel?"

Elphael's grip on his pint tightened, his knuckles turning a paler shade of lavender. He stared into the dark depths of his ale, as if seeking answers in its murky surface. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, rough with emotion.

"I... I can't. I don't deserve them. They're too good, too pure. And I'm..." he trailed off, his free hand clenching into a fist on the bar top.

You leaned in closer, your brow furrowed with worry. "You're what, Elph?"

He could smell the perfume you wore. It drove him insane. You always smelled so fucking good. He paused to breathe it in more.

You tilted your head slightly.

“...A piece of shit! Obviously! I’m disgusting. The things I’ve done, thought about…Gods I can’t even utter what I imagine sometimes. No one wants someon- something like me. An ugly, poor drow that whores himself out for money. Debased and damaged." He pointed sharply at the deep scar on his face.

"They could never want me. They are…”, he didn’t want to look at you, but your radiance pulled his grey eyes towards you, “just so damn perfect…”

Your eyes widened in shock at Elphael's harsh words. You grabbed his arm, forcing him to face you.

"Elph, what in the hells! When will you stop saying such terrible things about yourself?"

He stared at you and his forlorn eyes always made you feel an immense amount of sympathy. There was such a vast glimmer of loss within them, something was constantly eating at him.  

You turned on your stool to face him fully, your knees brushing against his thigh.

"Listen to me," you said firmly, your voice low and intense. "You are not disgusting. You are not ugly. You are one of the most beautiful people I know, inside and out."

Your fingers traced the constellations tattooed on his arm, making him tense up.

"Just look at you. These paintings tell a story of survival, beauty and strength. Showing how much you've overcome." You cupped his face gently, thumb brushing over the scar that marred his cheek. "And this? This just makes you look dashing and mysterious."

Elphael's breath caught in his throat at the intimacy of your touch, his skin tingling where your fingers drifted over his face. He screamed internally, resisting the urge to pull you into a deep, hungry caress. To throw you onto the bar top and hover over you, pressing himself between your legs: the thought made his body vibrate.

“You're one of the most handsome people I know, honestly! Do you not see how many people throw themselves at you?"

You pointed at the group of fans, huddling together, staring in anguish at the back of the drow’s head. He kept his gaze on you.

Your hands fell from his face and you gripped the drow’s hand that was clawing the side of the bar intensely.

"Your music touches people's souls," you insisted, your voice yanking him back to the present. "The way you play, it's like... it's like you're weaving magic with every note. And your voice? Gods, Elph, when you sing, it's like the whole world stops to listen."

You squeezed his hand, your eyes boring into his.

"And you're so kind and gentle. That person is so damn lucky to have you care for them. I love the way you comfort me… it always lifts me up!”

Your face was so close to his.

Elphael's heart thundered in his chest, your words echoing in his mind. The tavern around you seemed to fade away, leaving only you - your earnest eyes, your soft hands still clasping his, the intoxicating scent of mead on your breath. He wanted to believe your words, to let them sink into his very being and wash away years of self-loathing. But more than that, he wanted to crush his lips against yours, to taste the sweetness of your mouth and feel the warmth of your body pressed against his.

His gaze flickered to your lips. What if...what if your words meant more than friendship? The possibility sent a jolt of electricity through his body. Maybe, just maybe, you felt the pull between you too. Maybe you'd been waiting for him to make a move all this time.

He felt his body move without command.

Elphael leaned in slowly, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure you must hear it. The din of the tavern faded to a dull roar as his focus narrowed to your lips, slightly parted and glistening from your drink. He could feel the warmth of your breath mingling with his own. This was it - the moment he had dreamed of for so long.

His eyes fluttered as he closed the final distance between you. He imagined how soft your lips would feel against his, how you would taste of honey and mead. His hand moved up to cup your cheek, fingers trembling slightly as it traveled upwards.

Just as he was about to make contact, a thunderous crash rang out from across the tavern. Your head whipped around instinctively towards the source of the noise, leaving Elphael's lips to barely brush against your cheek. The movement startled him and he twitched upright, swallowing hard at the shock of how close he had just been.

You were still looking over at the tumult, some people were fighting loudly. You turned to him briefly and smiled, completely unaware what almost just happened. You thought he had just been swaying weirdly from the alcohol. You leaned over the back of your stool and watched as the barmen pulled a group of ruffians away from the other roudy troop. Evidently, there had been some kind of disagreement while gambling.

You sighed and shook your head at the idiocy.

“See, Elph. This is the level of morons that exist in this world. You are much better than any of them combined. Don’t beat yourself up like that.” You patted his shoulder with gusto. The sudden friendly body language made Elphael’s world spin, when you were just so intimately intertwined.

So close.

But this meant something. You wanted him, too. Surely.

The night went on with you joining the other band members to drink a few rounds. Elphael stayed at the bar, replaying the scene in his head over and over again.

Maybe if he told you the truth,…or tried again?

What would your reaction be?

[luvtonique]

I just woke up and I chose violence let's go.

Look all I'm sayin' is

If you're gonna attack AI generative art

You should, for the same reason, attack Toby Fox.

The reason I've seen the most for people not liking AI is that it's not "Real art" and that it "Takes jobs from artists" and that it "Steals from other artists"

Well, then, let's talk about how Hopes and Dreams by Toby Fox uses fake Violins to mimic a symphony orchestra. Toby could have hired a real orchestra but he used a fake one and y'all came in your drawers over it.

Why'd nobody ever lift a finger to cover social media in how Toby Fox doesn't deserve to make money because his song "Undertale" uses a fake guitar that sounds just like a real one? He could have hired a musician to play guitar but he didn't! That cost a REAL guitar player a job, didn't it?

And how come when it was found out that Toby Fox stole entire lietmotifs from other games like Kirby n shit, y'all had like 600,000,000 excuses to defend him?

I don't dislike Toby I think he's amazing, like 100/10, one'a the brightest examples of a success story of all time and one of the nicest most pure-hearted people on earth who made two of my favorite games of all time and a ton of my favorite music. Spider Dance has been my ring tone for like 8 years.

I'm just saying, the literal same reasons I see people attacking AI gen art is shit that Toby does, all of it, and y'all worship Toby for it but attack artists.

And neither here nor there, but hear me out?

Y'all will say you're in defense of artists keeping their jobs and their livelihoods which is so very noble of you, but if an artist draws shortstacks that are just a little too short, or if an artist utilizes AI, or if an artist draws Rose Quartz skinny, or if an artist draws Sans and Frisk getting a little too Frisky, or if an artist votes for Trump, or if an artist says a dirty word you don't like, or if an artist draws a black person that looks just a little bit too stereotypical, or if an artist draws a lesbian character getting fucked, or if an artist doesn't believe in gender identities, or if an artist doesn't put trans characters in their graphic novel, or if an artist makes a sexy character with butt-jiggle the protagonist of their video game; Y'ALL ARE COMPLETELY OKAY WITH SAYING THAT ARTIST SHOULDN'T BE MAKING MONEY, AND BANDWAGONING A HATEMONGERING BRIGADE AGAINST THEM.

Or in the Sans and Frisk case: PUT SEWING NEEDLES INSIDE OF COOKIES AND GIVE THEM TO THE ARTIST WHO DREW IT, PUTTING THEM IN THE HOSPITAL.

Listen

Spare me this "We hate AI because we care about the jobs of artists" shit, you lying scoundrels. You don't care about my job! You've tried to cancel me like 500 goddamn times, got my Patreon frozen twice, got my PayPal frozen over 100 times even right in the middle of conventions, flooded my stream chat and spammed the N-word in chat trying to get my Twitch banned, flooded my Discord multiple times with links to CP trying to get my Discord banned, and you have entire Discord servers literally called things like "Jay is an asshole" and "The We Hate Jay Society" (YEAH I KNOW YOU FUCKERS EXIST, HI, HAVE FUN SCREENCAPPING THIS).

My artistic career has been under fire for the past 12 years because I draw things y'all disagree with, have opinions you don't like, and have family members who vote for politicians you think are the boogeyman that's the cause of all your problems (and haven't disowned those family members). With all due respect, when I hear "We hate AI because we believe in fair wages for artists and want to protect the jobs of artists" I just wanna strangle your lying ass.

You hate AI because it's popular to hate AI.

AI is like a prosthetic robot arm that helps you carry the groceries, and disabled people like myself (rheumatoid arthritis) benefit from its uses greatly (such as being able to draw backgrounds much easier which has greatly improved my art and INCREASED MY COMMISSION REVENUE DUE TO MY ART QUALITY IMPROVING [But y'all don't care that AI helps artists earn more money, you hate AI because you claim it's hurting artists' ability to earn money]), but you're so hung up on people using the robot arm instead of their real arms that you think you're some crusader against injustice.

You aren't.

You're just looking for reasons to attack people, it's what you do. I've been dealing with y'all looking for any goddamn reason to attack someone that you can muster for the last 12 years, hell even before that I dealt with you types. You just want to hate, you want to be prejudiced so fucking bad that you look for literally any reason you can possibly find to make some vaguepost about how much you hate an artist and post it to Reddit, and then when you get called out, get so surprised that I found your bitch ass that you start pretending you didn't mean any ill will, and start pretending that you're someone else in the most pathetic attempt to dodge blame I've ever seen.

[Context: The OP of this post accidentally revealed who they are on Tumblr, and then when I called them out on Tumblr, they pretended they were someone else because they were scared I was gonna out them on Tumblr and they tried pathetically to cover their ass, and even politely said "I never wanted to garner hate against you" when they literally posted "I hate the way he draws women" on r/mendrawingwomen and flooded the comment section (mostly now deleted) with how "disgusting of a person" I am, while I was in the comments politely giving context to the shit he was saying about me, and he started getting furious when other people were liking my art and agreeing with me instead of him. I have like 600 screencaps of all the cringe this guy spewed, but I'm not gonna post it all because it's tangential anyway. Case in point? This guy's blog is absolutely covered with how much he hates artists for drawing things he doesn't like, and he regularly posts about how AI is taking jobs from artists. Not gonna out his blog, but that's who he is. A shining example of exactly what I'm talking about. "I hate AI because it takes jobs from artists!" "THIS MAN-THING DRAWS WOMEN IN A WAY I DON'T LIKE AND HE'S A DISGUSTING PERSON, EVERYONE JOIN ME IN HATING HIM AND TRYING TO RUIN HIS REPUTATION AND THEN WE CAN CELEBRATE WHEN HE LOSES HIS JOB!!!"]

Like, y'all can sit there and act like you're defending me and artists like me all you want, you're liars. You're boldfaced fucking liars. You are disgusting. It's completely pathetic watching you attack a tool that can be used to improve our art, and claim it's in defense of the authenticity of our art and the continued financial stability of our artistic careers. Fucking give me a break.

You're looking for people who say positive things about AI art so you can attack them and feel justified because it's popular to attack them.

All while sitting there and gladly swallowing the cum of any musician who makes amazing music with synths, fake symphony instruments and autotune.

"We care about the jobs of artists."

Yeah.

Long as those artists fall in line with your opinions and only draw things that agree with said opinions, right?

Wouldn't wanna care about the jobs of "problematic" artists who draw "offensive" stuff or vote for politicians you don't like.

Final note: This isn't even an attack against any political opinions or activism or anything like that, but I'm being realistic here because these are the people I see brigading against AI art. It's not me saying those people are dumb for having their opinions or political standpoints or being activists for their beliefs, it's me saying those people are the ones who are constantly attacking AI art in "defense of artists," while in the same breath attacking artists for not sharing their political standpoints or also being activists for the same causes. If you truly, truly cared about the livelihood of artists, you'd stop attacking artists' livelihood for disagreeing with you. Or for that matter: Any reason. Stop attacking artists' livelihood, or stop pretending you care about it. Be consistent, at least.

[chaosgremlinmunson]

Rocker Stevie

Might be part one.

Diane: So let's set the scene, it's 1988, you're newly 21. You are top of the charts bubblegum pop princess Stevie Hendrix. You're married to top selling actor Tommy Hagan known for his action films and beach body. You just won two Grammys that year, and then, what happened?

Stevie: So, like you said. I was newly 21, I married my highschool sweetheart who'd reached stardom right alongside me as an actor instead of in music, which, honestly Diane, thank God for that. The man has no idea how to hold a tune, he'd likely make a dying cat sound like a siren. Laugh No, really! It's that bad! Anyway, I was fresh off my latest tour for Rainbows and Leather and came home to see my darling husband. I was so excited I'd been missing him, you know. Well, I walked into the house and what did I find? My husband, in bed butt naked with my Best friend and his personal assistant at my behest, Carol Perkins. To tell you the fallout from that was anything less than apocalyptic would be selling it short.

Diane: So after the absolutely dramatic divorce, you decided to change genres? Why Rock?

Stevie: Rock spoke to my soul, I wrote ‘I wanna ghost myself’ one night drunk on apple spritzers with my sister Robin, and her best friend Eddie. They'd been in my corner from the start, but Eddie and I always nipped at each other about our music tastes, then that night he picked up his guitar and started playing and ‘I wanna ghost myself' just flowed out. I was laid out on the floor by the ending between lighter and tears, and just felt so free. So like myself. And that was it, Stevie hung up her rainbows and sunshine and embraced her chaos and revenge.

Diane: So where did the lyrics 'think I'll take my heart and throw it off a cliff, yeah I have a feeling that it won't be missed” come from?

Stevie: You have to understand, I was devastated by what Tommy did. I had only ever been with him to that point in my life, he'd made me believe he was the only one for me. That without him my life would feel meaningless because up to that point every moment together he showered me in affection and praise. He was the ideal husband on the surface, and then I found out he'd been having an affair with Carol for literal years. Everyone knew except for me, and I was crushed. ‘Think I'll take my heart and throw it off a cliff’ was me almost literally saying my heart is broken and I don't want to feel anymore. I became wild and lost myself to the music. Eddie wrapped me in leather and lace and asked me to be the front woman for his band. I was shocked, because honestly was I going to make it delving into a whole new genre? I'd already come to the end of my contract with Upside Down records, so I wasn't concerned about what my team thought. However, my fan base? Would they still love me the same, would I make it? I was scared, and then we had our first show. It was small, and it was a test for me to see if I could do this. The world caught fire for me that night, and I never looked back.

Diane: So let's fast forward, finally Devil's Prey became a household name, and Stevie Hendrix was a sensation. What happened the night of the music awards, in your own words.

Stevie: So, for years I'd gone by Stevie Hendrix so no one would know who I was. It was mid set for ‘Bulletproof’ and as I turned the lights cut out and a picture lit up the screen. It was a photo of me on my wedding day, my eyes crossed out and ‘Stefania Harrington the Whore’ written across my body as I stood between Tommy, his old friend Billy, and Jason Carver. I screamed, and looked back at the audience just as Eddie tackled me to the ground and a shot whipped past my head.

Diane: So Eddie Munson saved you that day?

Stevie: Yes, he did. He held me while I sobbed in the green room. I never knew someone could be so hateful just because my songs brought what they'd done to light, but there I was running for my life while the security detail searched for the gunman. Eddie was furious, he held onto me and told me we were going to my place with his security, to pack up my things and come to his. See, Eddie lived in a damn near impenetrable home, there was no way anyone could get to me there. Of course I wanted to fight him on it, but I'm just a girl at the end of the day, and Eddie Munson has an energy you just don't fight when it's directed at you.

Diane: So you moved in that night?

Stevie: Yes. Eddie was my shadow for days, I barely could use the restroom without him following me around. It was aggravating at times, but I saw how scared he was when he wasn't in the spot he could see me.

Diane: He was traumatized.

Stevie: He was traumatized and he was ready to follow me to hell if he needed just to make sure I was safe. I never knew what love was until I was met with the force of Eddie Munson’s protection. He woke my dead heart up again, and I was doomed from the start.

Diane: So eventually the agents you had investigating the shooting found out who shot that gun, and who hired him.

Stevie: I need a minute before we talk about this. Let me just grab a water and ask Eddie to come sit with me.

Diane: Take your time.

Stevie and Eddie walk back in, they're holding hands and Eddie is murmuring to Stevie who's looking like she may just pass out from nerves. She squeezes Eddie's hand and takes a seat, Eddie sits beside her his fingers laced with hers.

Stevie: Okay, I'm ready. Breathes in deeply So Jim Hopper was the head agent on the investigative team. He had become something like a father figure to Robin and I over the years after my parents’ accident. When Jim came into Eddie's house his face was drawn, and I knew then that the people who had attacked me knew me. He sat me down and told me as gently as possible that Tommy had asked Billy to do the job. He was furious at my songs, and apparently the fan base put two and two together and his career began to tank. People were boycotting his movies. I didn't know, I swear, I just wanted my freedom and an outlet for all my pain. I deserve to have that without someone threatening me, you know? Tommy had hired Jason who was in tech support to upload the photo in the middle of our set. It was this whole plot. Make me pay in the most public way possible.

Eddie: I wanted to rip them apart. Stevie was distraught, she is such a good person. And if I could take her pain away I would, happily.

Stevie: I know you would, but you going to prison wouldn't have helped me. I need you here Eddie.

Eddie: I'm not leaving, not ever.

Stevie: So the trial came and went. They'd found loads of evidence in Tommy's apartment, through the baking records, phone records. I mean they pretty much wrote out in neon lights that they planned to kill me. Laughs incredulously All because Tommy couldn't handle the consequences of being a shitty husband?

Eddie: He never deserved you, Stevie.

Stevie: blushes and ducks her head Oh hush you big sap.

Diane: So the bad guys are caught, you're safe now, what does the future hold for Stevie Hendrix?

Stevie: More Rock and Roll obviously, but therapy to deal with the trauma. Mandatory family nights. Just things to help me feel back to myself.

Eddie: Hopefully a wedding soon, too. That is if you say yes. Eddie Munson sank to one knee reaching into his pocket and pulling out a ring. Stevie stared at him, her eyes glassy before grabbing him by his curls and kissing him, she giggled a yes, and he slipped the ring on her finger. She said yes!

Stevie: I said yes. I love you Eddie Munson.

Diane: I'm so happy for you both!

Eddie: I love you Stevie Hendrix, I can't wait to be Mr. Hendrix!

Diane: Well, It was lovely sitting with you for this interview. Thank you for agreeing to be on my show, and I can't wait to see the wedding photos one day.

Stevie: See the photos? Diane, you're invited to the wedding!

Diane: Oh wow! I'd be honored.

Stevie and Eddie stood and walked off the stage where Robin stood, her face lit in a blinding grin, she embraced her sister letting out a laugh and they both turned to wave to Diane who smiled and waved back. The show was over, but Stevie’s life was only just beginning.

[jaron-hoffman420]

Hey dudes I’m Jaron Hills I guess.

I only created this account because my annoying younger brother has been pestering me to make one and it’s better to give in to him than to see one more slide show on “the importance of having a tumblr blog” (yes he made three slide shows on it)

Anyways that’s enough of my little gremlin child

I’m a senior in Hatchetfield high only a few months left until I can leave this shit hole for good.

I don’t really have that much plans for when I’m out of here I could like picture myself living as a free lance photographer in New York or maybe a nanny to a millionaire family in some place nice like L.a or Florida hmm maybe even if one of those street performers.

If you’re looking for me you could find me either in the smoke club or supervising my younger brother from a safe distance.

I’m Jacks older brother he’s on this thing to I think his account is @jackh0ffman69 (if he’s bothered you I’m so so sorry especially to Max Jagerman and his siblings)

Currently looking for a job since I was fired from my last for um totally no reason…

Im uh totally not a stoner 420 is just …my lucky number!!

My real surname is Hills but Jaron and Jack Hoffman just sound so stupid and make good gamertags.

I’m 18 so hot single mothers hit me up/hj

I’m pretty sure I’m like pan ,gender doesn’t really matter to me.

I play guitar and the ukelele if anyone’s looking for lessons dm me. I’d like to say I’m a good teacher because my little siblings are quite good at playing the instruments.

————————————————————————

.blog run by @4rielle

.the character is an adult but I’m a minor so no being weird please

————————————————————————

[thegodmother007]

My New Neighbor Chapter 2: Close Call with Neighbors

TRIGGER WARNING: This story will eventually contain violence, angst, threat of death, swearing, dark humor, adult themes like sex & drugs, racism, classism, sexism etc. Do not say you have not been warned

It’s been a busy month for me but I am finally settled into my new place & getting the hang of the new job. I was lucky enough to have been bartending at Dale & Cruster’s prior to my move, so a transfer to the closest location to my new place was the easiest part of my transition, so far. Everything else has been..a challenge, putting it lightly. On my move-in day, I encountered quite a few comments about how my furniture looked like “Doll’s furniture” by some of the giant apartment residents passing by. A few times, I turned to see a few of them watching me struggle with furniture they could have held in their hands. I felt a sense of embarrassment when I noticed them staring, but I tried not to let it show. I reminded myself multiple times that Humans have their strengths & weaknesses and giants have their strengths & weaknesses. I am great at other things like my bartending, I am a fantastic guitar player (at least I would like to think so) & I can make a mean steak. I doubt any other resident of the apartment complex can claim all three of those things. 

In the days following moving in, I experienced first hand how careless the other residents can be. On a Tuesday afternoon, I was headed out of my place to start my 2pm-10pm shift at Cruster’s but was unnecessarily stopped from getting into my mustang. A giant man was on his porch, smoking what smelled like a spliff, which would have been fine IF he was not supposed to be watching his son. When I entered the parking lot, I noticed his son, a giant himself easily towering almost 40ft, playing with his toy cars, scattered around  my very real car. I quickened my pace, shoving my fear of the giant child aside, keeping my eyes on my baby, my Ford Mustang GT. “Hey!” I yelled towards the child who, as curiosity would have it, finally picked up my car to inspect it, like one of his toys. I ran towards the child who sits cross-legged in the parking lot. The boy’s attention gravitates towards me & my yelling “Put my car down, now! That is not a toy & you should not be touching it!” I stopped running towards the kid when I noticed a surprised look and a twinkle of mischief shining in his eye. He looked at my car, then back down at me, where I could see the gears in his mind turning. With the hand closest to me, he reaches over towards me, trying to grab me. I was lucky though, as his first attempt at snatching me up was missed. I backed up quickly as the child went to stand, my baby still in his hand. I kept my eyes on him as I backed away, noticing the sticky finger prints he was leaving on the black paint of my freshly waxed mustang. Once the kid stood, he towered over me, blocking out the sun that shone behind him. My nerves were on fire as my instinct to run kicked in, but I did not want to leave my car in the hands of a child who could cost me thousands in damage. However, it was clear upon the first step he took towards me, that running was my best option. I turned and ran as fast as my legs would take me, which compared to the kid, wasn’t very fast. I spotted the father again, who from a distance, was trying to make out what his son was doing. “Sir! Please help me!” I called out to the man who was now standing up, aware of the unfolding situation. I look behind me to see the smile on the child’s face as he has caught up to me and was swiftly reaching down to grab me once again. Thankfully, the deep thunder of his father’s voice rang out “DYLAN!” He shouted, which stopped both of us in our tracks. Dylan looked up to his father who was now marching over to where his son & I were in the parking lot. As the huge man approached, I was not sure how thankful I was that he was intervening, as the closer he got, the weaker my legs felt. 

I did what I could not to hurt my neck when I looked up, up, up to the father’s face, which peered down to where I was. Dylan’s father noticed that his son held a car which did not belong to him or belong to the collection he brought outside. With one word, Dylan’s father was able to force the child to follow the directions I failed at, earlier. “Gimme” his father said in a stern and cold voice, holding out his hand to his son, who promptly handed him my Ford Mustang. The father inspected it and for a moment, I wondered if he planned on keeping it for himself. It was not unheard of for a giant to collect cars, as they did not have access to them personally. Cars were strictly a human thing, while giants were tasked with walking, biking or commuting via train or trolly. My thoughts were interrupted by the father directing his child to “Get inside.” Which was met with little protest besides an annoyed sigh from Dylan. Once Dylan left, his father looked to me, who was doing everything in my power not to shake or seem intimidated. His father gently placed my car down next to me, while taking a knee “I don’t see any damage to the vehicle.” He says, not considering the damage to my pride, but I say nothing in return. His knee thudded with a noticeable tremor into the concrete of the parking lot, which I could feel up my spine. He crouches down, laying a hand on the ground next to me, examining me next. “Are you new to the apartment?” He asks me, undoubtedly getting a closer look at the Human he does not recognize. “Y-yes” I said with a humiliating crack to my voice, which I was quick to cover with a clearing of my throat & further elaboration “Yes, I moved in this last week. I’m Cain” I said with a deep bow. Shaking hands with a giant was not customary, as the danger of injury was ever present, so you bow as an alternative. The man nodded his head at me, as an informal bow back to me. “My name is Brax, been living here for about a year and a half, give or take. Not many humans live in this complex, I wasn’t sure if they were even offering the housing program anymore seeing as so few humans took advantage of it.” He is trying to strike up a conversation with me, great. Just what I needed after narrowly escaping his son’s attempt at playing with me like I was one of his toys. But what else can I do in this situation besides make nice with the man who was easily 75 feet  tall and was just holding my car in his hand. I take a breath and put on the false bravado that gets me tips at work & got me accepted into the program “Well, you can’t beat these rent prices! It was just too good to pass up!” I say trying to make light of the situation, hoping to get rid of the feeling of body numbing fear I had at this moment. The giant man nods his head in agreement “You’ve got that right! I figured it was a really good way to introduce my children to humans, now that we’re integrated. Which, by the way, sorry about Dylan.” The man brings an embarrassed hand to the back of his neck where he rubs it anxiously. “He is a handful and often gets into things he shouldn’t. I usually let him play with his cars in the parking lot because no one ever parks here, until now. I’ll have him play with his cars somewhere else, out of your way.” I couldn’t help but let my jaw go slack for a moment as he apologized for his son’s behavior. I was quick to close my mouth before I caught some flies & was noticed. “I-um, yes that would be great, thank you. And don’t worry, kids are going to be kids, right?” I wondered if there was more to what he was going to say. But he didn’t, he smiled and rolled his eyes “You’re telling me. But let me get out of your way, Cain, I need to go have a talk with Dylan.” He said, giving me a wink as he stood, which both comforted me and unsettled me. I hope he is not too much of a disciplinarian, I would hate to be on Dylan’s bad side.

All I did was wave back at Brax as he turned to leave, his sandaled feet shaking the ground with every titanic step he took back towards his home. I got in my car with bile seeping up my throat as I spotted the ghosts of grimy fingerprints on my windows. I thought back to 5 minutes ago, when Dylan’s hand was wrapped around my vehicle. I anxiously thought about how different this story would have been if I were already in my car when he grabbed it. I couldn't jump out & scream for help like I had earlier. There would be no way out unless the boy let me go. I recall the flash of mischief I saw in his eye when he decided to pick up my car. I remember the look of desire he had when looking at me, like I was a shiny new toy for him to break. My mind was racing with all the possible outcomes that could have happened today, leading me to have to stop a panic attack from coming on before my shift. 

I stroked the dashboard of my car, as if it was the one about to have a panic attack, when the reality was it was me who needed comforting. I assured myself that I was okay & my baby was okay, trusting that Brax would ensure Dylan stays away from me. A few moments of breathing later, a wave of relief washed over me when I started the car up with no issues. The revving of her engine was enough to send goosebumps up my arms as I listened to her purr. “Thank God” I thought to myself. Last thing I want to do is go back to Brax & ask him for compensation for the damages his kid made to my car. “If I had it my way, I would never have to talk to either of them again.” I thought as I pulled out of the parking lot, hoping to God my shift would be an easy one. 

Previous ||| Next

[skyj80]

Me, I want details on the heart to heart with Alma and Dhalia🙋‍♀️

YAY YAY YAY YAY YAY

Context

Dahlia's general view on Alma is negative with a sprinkle of pity and fear. The negative comes from what she has observed. Despite Carmen's attempts to make her parents look "not that bad" Dahlia just doesn't buy it. The fear is cause Alma is a tough woman and (duh) her girlfriends mom. Pity because Alma is as damaged as she is tough. Dahlia feels bad just watching her pathetically exist.

Alma's general view on Dahlia is relatively neutral and leans slightly toward positive. She thinks she is a bright young woman. She only wishes Dahlia and Carmen were friends and not girlfriends. She'd never go out of her way to break the up, but she is not a fan of their relationship. She also wanted Carmen to go to college and wished carmen would have been more like Dahlia when it came to education. (carmen didn't go to college due to her sickness despite wanting to be the first on her family to go)

SO,

Dahlia sleeps over pretty often and one day she goes to the kitchen to finish up homework after waking up earlier than Carmen. As she is making her coffee, Alma walks in and ignores the fact Dahlia is there. She reaches onto of the fridge for a bottle of liquor. Before she gets to it dahlia asks "Do you want some coffee?" There is a hint of judgment in her tone but it's mainly a plea phrased as a question. Alma sighs, but agrees and sits down at the kitchen table. "I take it black." Alma informs Dahlia. Her gaze lingered on Dahlia's open laptop. She see's all the science-y stuff and sighs.

Dahlia sets a cup of black coffee in front of Alma and sit across from her with her own, very light and sweet, coffee.

There is silence for a moment. Dahlia begins to type and Alma just stares at her cup as she waits for it to cool.

Here is a draft type thing of the dialogue I imagine. It's kinda choppy and unnatural. that will be fixed eventually.

Alma: I wish my daughter was more like you

Dahlia: Hm? (she looks up from her laptop)

Alma: You're awfully intelligent.

Dahlia: (gently shuts her laptop, giving her attention to Alma) Carmen is one of the smartest people I've ever met

Alma: My daughter works off the books for ten dollars an hour. When she was planning on going to college she wanted to go for music. and then, after being accepted to a ton of schools she decided not to go. My daughter is a fool.

Dahlia: (smiles) did you know I set fire to a microwavable cup of ramen once because I didn't know you had to add water

(Alma raises an eyebrow)

Dahlia: Oh and the first time carmen and I had a conversation, it was because I spilt my coffee all over myself after taking, like, two steps with it. And then she told me my shirt was backwards! I am a fool.

Alma: well then you are a smart fool. carmen is a foolish fool.

Dahlia: (chuckles at the phrasing) once the register broke at her job. She was able to do all the mental math for change. I'm so reliant on my calculator. I could never.

Alma: That's the frustrating part. If she can do that...why no college? And if college...why music? The chances of making a career-

Dahlia: (expression goes somber) I don't think she was worried about her future, Alma. She isn't getting any better.

(Alma nodded, of all people she knew that)

Dahlia: She likes music and didn't want to be miserable if she could help it. The good thing about music is you don't have to be in a school to do it. She can play her guitar and sing and rap and all that from her room, or a hospital bed. I think choosing happiness is the smartest thing anyone could ever do.

At that point, Alma see's how highly Dahlia speaks about Carmen and feels a bit less off about their relationship. She isn't a great mom, but she does love her kids and wants what she thinks is best for them. she isn't like "omg yasss gay rights!! Latina lesbians woooo!" but she thinks if Carmen has to be with a girl its good that's it's Dahlia

(also Dahlia, ever the idiot, used the same coffee pod on both her and almas coffee. Alma and Dahlia had a laugh about. That moment meant a lot to Dahlia)

If you read this far I love you. And if anyone else has questions pls pls pls pls pls ask pls.

[d1xonss]

Desert Rose

Chapter 44 ~ Little Things

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 4

✧ Word Count : 5.9k

In this chapter - Life at the prison continues on, a bunch of little things keeping the community alive as the time slowly ticks by.

I desperately tried to catch my breath, but I didn't have a lot of time to do so. I whipped around the corner to see more walkers coming my way from the other end of the store and quickly shot a few arrows at them to buy us some time. Glenn and Tyreese were frantically putting more food in their bags while I held the dead monsters off as much as I could, but time was slowly running out and I didn't know how many cans of beans were worth our lives.

My lungs felt as if they were on fire as I pulled the arrows out of a few skulls and stabbed more and more, dodging them right before they could grab me. The only thing that managed to tear my attention away, were the two men's rushed voices calling out saying they had enough, before making a sprint towards the exit, my hurried steps not far behind theirs. Though I managed to skid to a stop at the front door to pick up the one important thing that I just couldn't leave behind, before making a run for it so they could close the doors behind me and trap the remaining walkers inside.

They slammed the glass doors shut the second I made it out, placing a thick piece of wood across the handles so they wouldn't be able to break out, finally allowing ourselves to catch our breaths. I jumped back a little when the walkers started to pound on the glass, but luckily, they weren't able to break out as the material was far too thick. Strongest damn glass I've ever seen with the number of walkers shoving and clawing their way forward.

Tyreese stood up to his full height and walked over to me, "You okay?" he asked breathlessly as he placed a hand on my shoulder.

I stood as well with a small nod, "Yeah, yeah, I'm good. You guys okay?"

They both nodded their heads, our eyes seeming to stay glued to the building, "I think we got enough food, we should make it back to the prison by dark." Glenn stated.

We all seemed to nod absentmindedly in silent agreement and grabbed the entirety of our things to head back to the car before the walkers were able to cut through the unbreakable glass. I quickly hopped in the passenger seat after I placed everything I could in the trunk, a wave of fatigue hitting me suddenly the moment I sat down. Fighting for your life everyday was starting to become exhausting.

My eyes involuntarily closed for a moment as I heard Glenn start the car and begin the drive back to the prison, while Tyreese was in the back rummaging around, making sure we had everything we needed.

"So, why was this so important?" his voice suddenly asked.

I glanced up in the rearview mirror and felt myself smile, seeing the familiar guitar I somehow snatched at the very last second. "Well, Beth said something about her birthday coming up, and I used to teach her to play guitar. But we ended up losing it in the long run, so I figured this was perfect."

His smile somehow turned even warmer as he listened, "That's real sweet."

I shrugged sheepishly, "I try."

Glenn couldn't help but smile as well, "I remember that...all of that just got left with the rest of the farm." he commented before growing silent for a moment. "Oh hey, are you still painting?"

"I do when I have the time," I said, "But lately we've all been so busy I haven't really had a chance to." He nodded in understanding. "Why?" I asked.

He only shrugged, "Just wondering if you ever finished the painting of the farmhouse. Do you still have it?"

I nodded with a small smile, "Yeah, it's still in my sketchbook. I was actually thinking about giving it to Maggie or something? Maybe Hershel? I don't know, I feel like they would like it more than I do."

"I think that's a good idea," he said, before suddenly growing serious as he clearly thought about something much darker. I almost didn't even want to know. "Does...does the farm kind of remind you of Shane?"

"No," I said almost immediately, "I try not to think about that man if I can help it."

Tyreese sat up a little, "Who's Shane?"

Glenn and I seemed to share some kind of look before he started to explain the story behind the man, why he was never talked about in our group. I didn't even remember the last time I heard anyone breathe his name until now, which made me wonder why Glenn brought him up in the first place. Perhaps he was someone who thought about him more than I did. Shane was an okay guy for the most part, but he was blinded by his love for Lori, and that's what tore him apart in the end.

I tuned out most of the conversation between the two because I didn't really want to relive any of the horrible things the man did. But I found myself chiming in when Glenn started to tell the story about how I hit him in the head with an apple. I couldn't help but laugh at the memory, after all I thought it was one of my best moments.

But before I knew it, we had arrived back at the prison in record time, the sun now setting completely leaving us driving up to the building in the dark. Glenn put the car in park as we made it through the gates, a few people started to notice our arrival, getting out to begin unloading everything. I made sure to grab the small item in the center console before hopping out too, following them over to the trunk.

But before I could even attempt to grab something to help carry inside, I was suddenly pulled into a hug by Rick who was standing near the car, "What took you guys so long?" he asked, not letting me go.

I rolled my eyes a little as I gently patted his back, "We're fine...we just stopped by one more place before we came back. Why are you so worried?" I asked softly while finally pulling away.

"I- I don't know. Just had a bad feeling." he sighed.

I silently knew what that meant. It was almost like a code language I could read quite well. The man was terrified to lose anyone else, causing him to worry to no end whenever someone went out into the unknown.

I placed a hand on his arm, "We're fine." I repeated gently, wanting him to hear me.

He smiled slightly and nodded, before slowly moving to the trunk so he could help carry a few things inside to have them be sorted through. I placed the small object in my back pocket and went to grab the guitar sitting in the backseat, but paused when I caught a glimpse of Daryl coming at me with a grin on his face. He picked me up in a hug and spun me around which made me laugh, before setting me back down and kissed my forehead briefly before he spoke.

"How'd it go?" he asked.

"Pretty good." I confirmed, "We got some food, clothes, I even found a guitar for Beth. And actually, I managed to get something for you too." I finished with a sweet smile.

He raised his eyebrows, "Really? What is it?"

"I'll give it to you after I see Beth, just meet me in our room."

A slow smirk grew on his face at the suggestive things no doubt clouding his mind and I just rolled my eyes, "It's nothing dirty."

"Damn," he cursed jokingly, "Alright I'll meet cha there." he spoke, giving my arm a squeeze before moving to help the other guys carry the many supplies inside.

I maneuvered my way towards the back to grab the instrument, before rushing towards the building and into the familiar cellblock. I hoped I could catch her in her room before she went to sleep for the night, knowing that it was already pretty late. But after double checking with Carol, I quickly made it into the smaller space, stopping at her doorway to see her sitting on her bed writing something down in her journal.

I cleared my throat from where I stood and she glanced up, smiling instantly once she realized that I had made it back safely.

"Hey!" she said, trying to get up quick to greet me.

But I put my hand out, stopping her in her tracks from getting too close, leaving her looking confused. I leaned in about only halfway so she couldn't see the larger object I attempted to hide behind my back.

"I have something for you." I spoke.

She raised her eyebrows, "Oh yeah? What?"

"Close your eyes."

Her eyelids instantly fluttered closed, a small smile on her face as I slowly walked further into the room and holding it out into view. "Okay, open."

She opened her eyes and lightly gasped once she saw what was in front of her. She hesitantly took it in her hands and began to look over every inch of it while I stood there waiting anxiously for her to say something. Now don't get me wrong this guitar was nice, but a little beat up since I found it in a very random place that most definitely wasn't a Guitar Center.

I hoped she would like it. Knowing that I could teach her a few more things, seeing her being able to use it when she looked after the kids, playing them a few songs. I saw a few tears begin to form in her eyes as she carefully sat it down on her bed, before tackling me in an unexpected hug.

"Thank you so much." she whispered.

I smiled in slight relief and hugged her back, "Of course. Happy birthday, honey."

"This is the best present ever," she stated excitedly as she pulled away to look at it again, "God...where did you even find it?"

"In an abandoned grocery store." I said bluntly with a small huff, "I'm assuming it was someone else's, but they just left it there. I figured you could decorate it, make it look a little nicer."

She nodded, "I will. I really, really love it," she said before pulling me in for another hug, "Thank you, Ro."

"You're welcome." I said hugging her back for a few moments before letting her go.

"Can we practice right now?" she asked, her voice filled with pure delight as well as a certain glint in her eyes.

I smiled a little sadly, "Oh hon, I'm sorry, I was planning on seeing Daryl for a bit and just crashing out. But hey, tell you what, maybe start going over the basics again and what you can remember. And then tomorrow I could teach you some new things?"

She nodded in understanding, "Yeah, that's totally fine. I'll go over a few songs." she said while sitting down and propping the guitar up in her lap.

After biding her a goodnight, I heard the soft strums of the instrument as she attempted to get it back in tune. I slowly made my way up the metal steps to Daryl and I's room, passing everyone's covered cells as I walked. Most people have now gotten curtains for privacy which was an amazing addition in my opinion. Because there were so many people living here now it was pretty much a golden necessity.

As I approached the familiar cell, I gently lifted the curtain to see him sitting on the bed with his head down. Though as soon as he felt my stare, he lifted his head and smiled tiredly at me.

"Hey, baby." he greeted.

"Hey." I smiled, moving into the room to sit myself down next to him.

He then seemed to perk up immediately, rubbing his hands together all while looking like a kid on Christmas, "Alright where is it?" he asked all giddy.

I laughed at how excited he seemed to be the moment I briefly mentioned I had a surprise. "Okay hold on, I don't want you to get your hopes up. It's just a small thing."

"Whatever it is, I'll love it." he reassured, placing a hand on my knee and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Okay," I muttered before reaching back and pulling out the box from my jean pocket, "Here."

He took the object from my hands slowly with a confused look on his face, opening it hesitantly and his eyes instantly softened the moment he realized. "You got me a ring; I figured I would get you one too." I said simply.

I found the piece of jewelry today as we coincidentally passed by some kind of old pawn shop. I didn't really think anything of it as I almost passed by it completely, until I saw a certain section sitting right in the window. To me it was some kind of sign to stop and take a look, telling the others to go on while I searched. But overall, I thought I did a pretty good job. The ring was simple, shiny, and black, thinking that it was absolutely perfect for him. So I didn't hesitate to grab it.

"Do you like it?" I asked.

He nodded as he began to look at it from every angle, "I love it...thank you, darlin."

"Of course," I smiled and watched him carefully pull the ring out and slip it on, mentally crossing my fingers and hoped that it fit. "It's not too tight right?" I asked.

He shook his head, "Nah, it's prefect. Ya did a good job." he said holding his hand out to take a better look at it. I smiled triumphantly and that caused him to chuckle, bringing me in close to place a proper kiss on my lips now that we were completely alone.

Though he pulled away after a lingering moment to speak softly again. "So...I've been waitin on ya to get back. Wanna shower with me?" he asked oh so sweetly.

I laughed, "Why I'd love to."

He smirked and we both made our way out of the cell and towards the showers without another thought. In the past few months, we've managed to fix the showers all the way on the other end of the building which were truly a gift from the man upstairs. Although the water was far from hot, it was still something.

There were multiple stalls lined up with curtains for privacy when you first walked inside, the two of us peeking our heads in through the door to make sure no one else was in there before heading down to the furthest shower from the entrance. We practically sprinted down the way, helping each other remove our clothes which caused us to giggle like a couple of teenagers before hopping in.

I turned the shower on and we both instantly got drenched with the cool water as I grabbed the shampoo bottle to my right. I squeezed a good amount in my hands, rubbing them together as I raised them up to wash my own hair. But Daryl quickly stopped my movements, taking a hold of my wrists and placing my soapy hands on top of his head instead and I laughed lightly at his actions. I began to massage his scalp softly and he closed his eyes and groaned at the feeling, fighting the urge to tilt his head back even more as if knowing I wouldn't be able to reach.

I took my time to make sure I got every place before quietly telling him he could rinse. He leaned back further into the water, running his fingers through the tangles before taking the shampoo bottle in his own hands, instructing me to turn around. My back was facing him as I suddenly felt his hands come up to gently wash my hair, and I now understood completely what the hype was about as I closed my eyes in content. It felt nice to have someone else do it, especially when he makes you weak in the knees.

After rinsing the remaining shampoo from my hair, I took a washcloth and a bar of soap and began to lather the material in bubbles. Once I was satisfied with the amount, I brought it to run across my arms and my chest, slowly feeling his hands snake around my waist as he placed a lingering kiss on my shoulder. I felt myself smile in content as I continued to scrub the remaining dirt from my body, before the washcloth was suddenly taken from my grasp.

His hands gently turned me around and began to wash every inch of me himself, occasionally placing soft kisses on my skin whenever he got the chance. I slowly began to feel hotter the more his hands roamed around me, and it defiantly wasn't because of the water running down my body.

Once he was done and I had rinsed off, I took the washcloth back from him and began to wash his body as well, and I could tell I was having the exact same effect on him. He closed his eyes and huffed heavily when I lightly washed certain spots, and that brought a smirk to my face. Teasing him slightly while he let out a deep sigh, muttering something under his breath that I surely couldn't make out from the running stream of water behind us.

I kissed him lightly on the nose once I was done, to which he huffed out another breath at the loss of contact, but still ran himself under the water nonetheless. Though the moment he was done, he kissed me deeply, and I easily could've dropped to the ground if he hadn't secured an arm around my waist.

"Can't keep my hands off ya." his lips parted from mine just enough to whisper the phrase.

"Hmm...just wait until we get back to our cell." I smirked, and he instantly maneuvered around me to turn the water off as quickly as he could, making me laugh loudly.

We both wrapped ourselves in towels and crept back to our room as quietly as we could. It was pretty late at this point so we weren't worried about someone catching us, everyone was already in bed, or outside on watch.

The second we made it inside, Daryl wasted no time ripping his towel off of him and then looked at me questioningly, silently asking if he could. I nodded my head and he removed the towel from my body as well, tossing it behind him carelessly on the ground. He then picked me up and I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist as he kissed me passionately, his breaths ragged and desperate as he began to move closer to the mattress.

I felt my back hit the mattress as he pulled himself off of me slightly to trace kisses all down by body, which made a chill run through me entirely. He noticed my reaction, my change in breathing as he glanced up at me through hooded eyes, his lip pulling up in his signature smirk and I knew I was done for. Needless to say...it was an eventful night.

Shuffling sounds were heard from all the way across the room, rudely interrupting whatever amount of beauty sleep I had left. My brows furrowed in annoyance as my eyes stayed closed, extending my arm to the other side of the bed to feel the space was completely empty. Letting out a breath, I peeked one eye open to see Daryl standing across the small space with his bare back facing me. He seemed to be in the process of buttoning up his pants, flipping his head back slightly to get his hair out of his face.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

He glanced back over his shoulder at me with a small smile once he heard the brief sound of my soft voice, "Gettin ready for the day sunshine, what are you doin?"

I groaned and pulled the blanket up and over my face, "I want to sleep for another six hours." my voice spoke, coming out more muffled as the thick fabric suffocated my face.

I felt the bed shift not even a second later as he sat down on the sliver of space next to me, peeling back the blanket, "Stop that, I wanna see yer pretty face." he said sweetly.

Heat instantly rushed to my cheeks as I quickly yanked the blanket up to cover my embarrassment, "No, no, no," he laughed in protest, pulling it back down, "Why're you so tired anyway, huh?" 

"I don't know, guess you really wore me out." I winked.

He smirked and leaned down to briefly kiss me, but I only pulled him in deeper, letting the blanket slip down a little to reveal my bare chest. I wrapped my arms around his neck as I attempted to pull him down further against me, but he broke away from my parted lips before I could get to the good part.

He groaned softly, "Don't do this to me." he muttered, his voice almost sounding like a plea.

"Aw come on. What do you have to do that's so important?" I asked.

"I gotta go hunt. We're runnin low on meat so I gotta go today." he complained, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear before he tilted his head a bit. "Why don't ya come with me?" he suggested.

I scoffed, "Yeah because that'll work out, remember what happened last time?"

His cheeks involuntarily tinted pink at the memories flowing through his mind, "That won't happen this time. Plus, I haven't taken ya huntin in a while now and I know ya wanna go out more often. It'll be good for ya."

I hummed to myself as I thought for a moment, "Yeah, you're right. I guess it never really takes much convincing to do anything with you, Daryl Dixon." 

"Well, I feel the same, Rose Dixon." he smirked, kissing me once more before slowly getting back up to finish getting dressed much to my dismay.

Another groan passed through my lips before I finally found the strength to get up as well, leaving the warmth of my bed behind with a heavy heart. The two of us maneuvered around the small space as we got ready to leave, attaching the many bags and weapons across ourselves to prepare for the amount of food we would bring back.

We told the people on watch that we were leaving as we headed out through the gates on foot, having somewhat of a hopeful attitude that we could find some larger animals. Though that was always wishful thinking. But then again, Daryl had been finding a lot of deer in the area lately, so maybe it wasn't a total lost cause. I just knew that everyone around here was getting a little tired of eating squirrel.

Once we progressed deeper into the woods, we stopped talking completely, remaining freakishly silent while having our eyes on the ground looking for any tracks to follow. I eventually spotted some rabbit prints in the mud, the leaves being tossed around messily as it bounded its way through here not too long ago. I began to follow the trail with a silent wave of my hand, knowing that it was better than nothing.

Although I could hardly hear his footsteps, I knew Daryl wasn't far behind as he followed my lead, avoiding the small rocks and twigs that would make too much noise and be a dead giveaway. Before I knew it, I noticed that the tracks were getting fresh and I slowly squatted lower to the ground, holding a fist up to him so he would stop.

My eyes peered through the bushes when I finally spotted the smaller animal. It was peacefully eating some grass, moving its head every so often to look at its surroundings, its ears twitching on instinct. My gaze didn't part from it as I silently gripped my bow in my grasp, getting an arrow ready to shoot. I aimed directly at its head and quickly pulled back to fire at the animal, watching as it fell limp into the dirt instantly. I smiled proudly to myself before standing back up straight, stepping over the greenery to retrieve the animal with my arrow through its head.

"I forgot how good ya are at this." Daryl commented, a hint of pride in his voice.

I just shrugged, "Eh, I'm alright. Could always use some more practice." I winked, before ripping the arrow out of the rabbit's head, handing the bloody animal over to the bad Daryl held out in his hands.

The two of us continued hunting for the majority of the day with ease, actually catching a whole lot more than I was expecting. We headed back to the prison by dinner time, two deer and five rabbits in our grasps by the time we were finished up for the day. I don't know how I managed to carry a whole ass deer back to the prison all by myself, but I did somehow, and now my back was paying every possible price. 

We walked side by side to where Carol was stationed up, dropping off the plethora of meat and watching her eyes widen in astonishment. "Wow, this is great! Thanks you two." she smiled.

Daryl grunted, "No problem."

"Well, I'm sure you guys are starving at this point." she said as she moved around towards a pot, pouring us what looked to be two bowls of soup, "Eat every last drop, I mean it." she said in a motherly tone.

I sent her a tired smile as I accepted it gratefully, "Thanks Carol." 

The night went on peacefully, the whole community gathering around outside to eat together at the plethora of tables scattered around the space. I listened to Glenn for the majority of the time as he went on and on about the events that occurred, apparently not being able to handle be being gone for only a few hours. Though there were a few different times his voice was interrupted by a variety of different people, their figures walking by briefly to thank Daryl and I for the things we brought back. I found that was something else I wasn't totally comfortable with.

Everyone from Woodbury was extremely grateful for what we did, the things we were still doing for them, but it always made me embarrassed at all the attention. And it was safe to say Daryl wasn't the biggest fan of it either. Neither one of us liked the constant praise, but we managed to be polite about it anyways, knowing that they all meant well. Though it took some time for Daryl to start saying you're welcome, progress was still progress.

Though a certain someone seemed to lift my spirits with her infectious joy, coming over to our table a little later to inform me that she had taken the time today to practice nearly every song I taught her back on the farm. It made me happy with how excited she became, now knowing that she would have another opportunity to learn what she absolutely loved. I informed her that I would swing by her room a little later after dinner came to a close, silently knowing I just needed a few minutes to relieve some of this back pain that I desperately wanted to get rid of.

I groaned the second my head hit the pillow as I laid flat on my stomach, silently wishing I could take a few painkillers, but refrained knowing that others might need it more than I did. I barely even heard the curtain being pushed open, but my ears still perked up nonetheless, looking over my shoulder to see Daryl now hunched over removing his boots in the doorway.

My head remained back on the pillow upon seeing it was just him and I felt my eyes flutter closed once more. That is until I felt a sudden pressure on my ass, looking back once more to see Daryl straddling the backs of my thighs.

"What are you doing?" I groaned at the pressure.

"Saw how uncomfortable ya looked at dinner. M' thinkin carryin that deer all the way back here had somethin to do with that." he stated.

I didn't even have the chance to respond before his hands were suddenly moving up and down my back, putting the exact amount of pressure that I need on the tense muscles. I couldn't help the soft groan that left my lips as his hands worked absolute magic, hearing him begin to laugh to himself at the noise I let out.

I rolled my eyes, "Oh, shut up. Don't stop." I scoffed quietly as I buried my face deeper into the pillow.

"Yes ma'am." he said huskily, leaning over to kiss my neck a few times before going back to run his hands all over the sore and tender spots.

He took his time massaging from my neck, all the way down to my lower back, running his hands across my hips and giving them a generous squeeze. I felt relief as he worked the knots out of my muscles and was always careful, double checking he wasn't hurting me.

I would almost never get over the fact that he acted so tough and guarded around the others, but was like putty in my hand. Some people from Woodbury had even asked me why I was with him if he was so hotheaded constantly, and I couldn't help but laugh at that. If only they knew.

"Better?" he asked, removing his hands.

I shook my head, "No, keep going."

He chuckled, "I would but you're fallin asleep, and ya promised Beth you'd see her tonight." he reminded me as he slowly got off of me.

"Oh yeah." was all I could say as I sat up and rubbed my eyes a little, stretching my arms up as I felt him sit down next to me. "Hm...you're the best, have I told you that recently?" I asked as I gazed at him sleepily.

"Mm tell me." he muttered while inching his face closer to mine.

I smirked, "You're the best." I said before closing the space between us.

We began to get lost in the moment as our tongues fought for dominance to which he ended up winning. My hands ran up his arms, giving them a gentle squeeze as I could feel him slowly lowering me back onto the mattress. It wasn't until my back hit the bed that I snapped back into reality and pulled away.

"Beth, she's waiting for me." I breathed.

He sighed and slowly got back up again, "Oh yeah." he chuckled.

I kissed him once more, bidding him a goodbye before I reluctantly got up to head down to her cell. I walked in quietly, knocking quietly on the metal door and her face instantly lit up upon seeing me, exaggeratingly waving me inside. I couldn't help but talk to her for a little longer than I meant to as I sat across from her, catching up on some things that we could go on and on about for a lifetime if we wished. But eventually I taught her a few more things like I had intended, watching as she caught onto everything quite quickly.

I could easily see how much she missed playing, having this guitar now would hopefully bring back the hobby she missed doing the most. I was just glad that I found the instrument when I did.

The hour grew late as she practiced before we both eventually got tired of the same thing over and over again, settling with just talking quietly with each other while everyone else now slept peacefully in the rooms around us. It honestly amazed me how much we could talk.

"Did I tell you Zach asked me out?" she said suddenly.

My mouth fell open, "What? No, you didn't tell me!" I exclaimed quietly.

She started to laugh to herself as she blushed, "Yeah, he actually did it! He told me since we couldn't really go on dates anymore, he just asked if I would want to take a walk with him and maybe look at the stars."

"Oh my God, that's so cute." I spoke.

"I know! I'm really excited, but also like super nervous." she confessed as she picked at her nails slightly, "Were you nervous when Daryl asked you out?" 

I thought to myself for a moment, "Well, he didn't really ask me out. We just sort of kissed and then...we've just been together ever since."

She sighed, "I wish it was that easy for me. I feel like I've been trying to ask him out since he got here, and it seems like a lot of work."

"Relationships are a lot of work." I informed bluntly, "But when you find the right one...it's worth it."

"Yeah, I guess so." she said with a shrug, letting a few beats of silence pass before her eyebrows furrowed, "It's crazy how much everything's changing. I mean, you're married now." she spoke in slight disbelief.

I laughed quietly with a nod, "I know, it's kind of weird being called someone's wife. But I guess it's only been a few weeks, so I might just need more time to get used to it."

"Probably." she yawned, "It's good that he has you, you know? You guys are practically perfect together. We can all tell how grateful he is for you...but then again so am I."

I looked at her softly, "I'm grateful for you too, hon."

"No, I mean really grateful," she emphasized, "Like...you've just been there for me though a lot and I've always been thankful for that. Looking out for me constantly...basically being my best friend. I've grown so much just because of you."

"You've grown because you wanted to, I can't take all the credit for that," I said and took her hand in mine, "You have no idea how strong you are, but I do. You're going to do great things in the future I just know it."

She smiled brightly, "Only if you're there by my side."

"Always." I promised as I pulled her into a hug, trying to not get emotional as she practically poured her heart out only seconds ago.

We stayed like that for a few moments in silence before I gently pulled back again, leaving her laughing lightly, "God, when did this turn into a super deep conversation?" she asked while wiping a stray tear that fell.

I couldn't help but laugh as well, "I don't know, but probably because we're both exhausted. Why don't you get some sleep, we can practice more soon." I suggested.

"Yeah, definitely." she nodded.

I gave her shoulder a squeeze before I got up to walk towards the doorway of her room, turning back to see her shutting her lamp off as she began to lay down, "Sleep tight, honey."

"Goodnight, Ro." she said, resting her head softly on the pillow.

I left her cell as quietly as I could, lightly walked back up the steps as to not disturb anyone else. Though I guess I underestimated how long I would be down there with her because when I walked in, I saw Daryl sitting upright on the bed like he was waiting for me, but his head was back against the wall as he snored. I tried my best not to laugh at the state he was in, quietly walking over to gently place my hand on his leg, shaking it lightly. 

He jumped awake suddenly at the feeling of someone else in the room, but relaxed when he saw it was just me. "Jesus Christ, ya scared the shit out of me." he muttered tiredly.

"I'm sorry," I laughed, "You didn't have to wait up for me." I said as I slowly sat myself down next to him.

He scoffed, "Clearly I didn't." he joked.

I shook my head slightly as I glanced down, taking notice that he was still in the same clothes from earlier, "Do you want to change?"

His only response was gently pulling me down to lay next to him, and I didn't argue. I laid down with my back to him and he quickly wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer into his frame, causing me to smile. I felt my eyes slowly droop as I came to terms with how tired I really was, and right as I was about to fall asleep, I heard his voice barely mutter, "Nah."

~ Thanks for reading!

Taglist - @justareader95 @hayley1998 @welcumetomyescape @ryoujoking @sipsthecoffee @winterassassin1804 @marsmallow433 @catlalice @writingstreetspirit

[corroded-hellfire]

Eddie x girlfriend!Reader where Eddie reenacts the famous boxers dance scene from Risky Business and Reader walks in and catches him? So maybe he pulls her in and dances with her? It would be so so so cute 💚💚 xo @munson-blurbs 💚

Oh, you mean the scene from the Jonas Brothers music video? Anything for you, my Bug! Please enjoy this adorable nerdy man.

Words: 1.3k

Curled up on the couch in your home, you’ve got a cozy blanket on and your favorite book in your lap. It’s a nice quiet evening, your parents out to dinner with some old friends, and your boyfriend here to keep you company. He insisted that he could wash and dry the dishes himself, practically pushing you out of the kitchen. So, you've settled yourself here in your favorite spot. It wasn’t quite cold enough to get the fireplace going, so you’d settled for the teal knitted blanket hanging over the back of the couch. 

You hear footsteps down the hallway, near the kitchen at the back of the house. You expect to see Eddie pop in the room any second, but there just continue to be footfalls in that direction. There wasn’t anything else in the house over there other than your parents’ room. After a few moments, you know you hear Eddie’s footsteps coming your way. Until they halt. Putting your bookmark into your current page, you quit trying to reread the same page over for a fourth time and try to figure out what’s going on down the hall. There’s a soft click and it sounds like when you open the cabinet for your stereo system. The sound of a record slipping free catches your attention and you lean forward in your seat. The unmistakable sound of a record being loaded and the needle taking its place have you expecting to hear music any moment now. Relaxing back against your comfy seat and kicking up your feet on the coffee table, you’re proven to be right. 

Dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun 

Eddie slides into view, white socks letting him glide down the hardwood floor. His back is facing you, and normally you would be staring at his ass when you get this vantage point, but the pink button up shirt he’s wearing goes down far enough that you can only see the bottom of his boxers. Your dad’s pink button up shirt, you notice. Now all the footsteps make more sense. 

Dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun 

Eddie spins around, holding the spatula he must’ve cleaned after you used it to make dinner. He brings it up to his mouth, like a microphone, as the lyrics begin.

Just take those old records off the shelf

I'll sit and listen to 'em by myself

Today's music ain't got the same soul

I like that old time rock 'n' roll

Eddie saunters into the room, mouthing the words into his pseudo-microphone, taking his time in walking right past you, towards the fireplace. Your lips are pressed together so tightly in an effort not to laugh. But you can’t help but sneak out a giggle as Eddie stands at the fireplace, hips swaying back and forth. Your eyes are glued to his ass now, of course. 

Don't try to take me to a disco

You'll never even get me out on the floor

In ten minutes I'll be late for the door

I like that old time rock 'n' roll

Eddie drops the spatula mic on the fireplace mantle and snatches up the poker, holding it low across his hips as if he’s playing it like a guitar. He hops up on the coffee table, pale hairy legs supported by his socked feet on either side of it as he keeps up his faux musical performance. He strums his fake guitar, letting his hips gyrate a little before leaping off the table and landing down on the floor, on his knees. 

Still like that old time rock 'n' roll

That kind of music just soothes the soul

I reminisce about the days of old

With that old time rock 'n' roll (oh)

Eddie leans back, now bringing the poker up to his mouth in lieu of a microphone, tossing his head from side to side as he gets into the song. Stretching up on his knees, he continues lip synching until the verse ends. Letting the fire poker fall to the carpet, Eddie bounces to his feet and makes his way in your direction. Dropping down to the couch, Eddie starts to jolt his body all around, looking like he got tased. Amusement colors your eyes as you watch him, and he leans back to drop his head in your lap. You’ve barely had time to run your fingers through his bangs when he’s flipping around on to his stomach, still jerking his body about. Eddie presses a quick kiss to your thigh before pushing himself off the couch. He’s hopping on the balls of his feet as he reaches down for your hands, tugging on them. You relent, standing up to join whatever show your adorable boyfriend is putting on. 

Now, the guitar solo is drifting in from the stereo in the hall, and Eddie pops the pink collar on his shirt. You don’t have a button up shirt of your own, but you spot the flannel Eddie discarded before dinner hanging over the banister leading upstairs. Quick to strip yourself down to your bra and panties—both white, which are more appropriate for reenacting the movie scene rather than Eddie’s blue striped boxers—you kick your clothes behind the couch and go to grab Eddie’s flannel. The red and black material smells just like him, of weed and minty shampoo, making you consider stealing it from him. You button it up most of the way, leaving the few top ones open just like Eddie had. Now you’re both standing there in nothing but your underwear, socks, and a button up. 

Won't go to hear 'em play a tango

I'd rather hear some blues or funky old soul

There's only one sure way to get me to go

Start playing old time rock 'n' roll

Eddie grabs your hips and pulls your body against his, the two of you rocking your hips together, in time to the music. Holding one of his arms securely around your back, Eddie dips you down, causing you to squeal. He grins as he brings you back up again. You’re both laughing as you dance together, Eddie’s curls flying everywhere every time he starts to headbang. 

Call me a relic, call me what you will

Say I'm old-fashioned, say I'm over the hill

Today's music ain't got the same soul

I like that old time rock 'n' roll

The two of you jump and dance around with one another for the rest of the song, both of you out of breath by the time it ends. Laughing, you sling your arms around Eddie’s middle and bury your face in his neck. 

“Should I start calling you ‘Tom’ now?” you ask. “Or ‘Mr. Cruise?’”

“Only if I can call you ‘Ms. Jackson’ if I’m nasty.”

You huff a laugh against his skin. “Deal. Can't believe you’re wearing one of my dad’s shirts.”

“I know, right? It’s too fancy; making my skin crawl. Need my t-shirt back as soon as possible.”

“Or…” you drawl out, pointer finger tracing shapes just below his Adam’s apple. “You could ditch the shirt all together and we could get up to some risky business of our own?”

“It’s always a pleasure doing business with you, baby.” Eddie winks and you can’t help but roll your eyes. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you tell him, hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders. “And never let Nancy see you like this. She’ll steal you from me.”

“Like I’d dance this way for anyone but you,” Eddie scoffs, pulling you tighter against his body. “Or as if anyone could ever steal me away from you.”

“You’re better than the real Tom Cruise any day, baby,” you tell him. 

“Why, cause I’m like double his height?” Eddie smirks, and even though you swat him on the chest, you’re laughing. 

“You’re ridiculous, Eddie.”

“Maybe. But then you’re about to sleep with a ridiculous man.”

“I’m used to it by now,” you wink, and he puts on a faux scandalized face. 

“And to think, I gave my all out there on the stage tonight, performing for you.”

“Come on, Mr. Rock and Roll,” you say, dragging him towards the stairs. “Let’s see how well you do in performing for me in other areas tonight.”