#SORRY THIS IS SO SHORT

[areuserious]

[cranberrv]

now i’m craving you to write about dally keeping his cigarette and lighter in readers bra 😭

hii anon! this is short, sorry! but supeer cute request 😊

a big finger gives your chest a small poke. “ow, dallas, watch it,” you grumble, trying to scooch away. you were in public, and he was embarrassing you, his hand down your little tank top, poking around your bra padding to find his cigarette and lighter.

he just chuckles and grabs your bra strap, keeping you with him. “oh c’mon, don’t get upset, doll. just need a smoke,” he says, fiddling around. “christ, this is hard to get out,” he mumbles under his breath, big fingers trying to pull out his lighter and a spare cigarette. he takes a peek down your shirt to see if he can catch sight of his winston cigarette, but he only catches sight of your bra. “ooh, the pink one? that’s cute,” he smiles up at you with his brown eyes, and it’s like he knows he’s embarassing you.

“dallas!” you scold, and he whistles, as if he’s making fun of you for getting him in trouble. “this is embarassing, can you please hurry up?” you whisper. “we’re in the middle of the dingo right now, not sure how many people wanna see you groping your girlfriend while they’re eating their food,”

he just laughs and gives you a kiss on your cheek. you can feel the cold metal of his skull ring frisk your chest. eventually he finds his cigarette and lighter, and he gives your chest a quick squeeze before pulling his hand out. you straighten out your top, glaring at him. you have no idea why you ever agreed to let him put his shit in your bra.

your memory comes back when he kisses you, it feels like a reward for putting up with him. you smile into the kiss and pull away, looking up at him. him and his gorgeous lips alone could make you do anything for him.

[lesbiankimdahyun]

Summer Session II

700 words

CW: N/A

A/N: um, guys Y/N is a lewser and Sana knows it

[Sana x F!Reader] 

Requested: Yes

You texted with Sana sparsely throughout the week. It was a delicate dance for you and your growing anxiety. You didn’t let yourself reply to her more than twice a day, desperate to appear cool and aloof. After enough pain-staking back and forth over a couple days, you had plans to meet her for a drink on Friday night. On the train ride back downtown, your phone buzzed. You nearly dropped your phone trying to pull it out of your pocket to see who had messaged you. 

Chae 🍓: are u ready for your (friend) date, superstar!!! 

You: hi! no! why am i THIS nervous 

Chae 🍓: oooh you liiiike her now 😏

You: say that again and i wont tell you how it goes tn 

Chae 🍓: OKAY okay sorry 

Chae 🍓: but if she becomes your new bestie over me i’m fighting her 

You: NEVER i promise

You tried not to gulp cartoonishly when you arrived at the bar Sana had suggested meeting at. It was a three dollar sign type of bar, and your meager internship wages told you you’d only be drinking a single drink tonight. 

As if reading your mind, Sana insisted the first round of drinks was on her. The two of you sat up at the bar sipping drinks that used ingredients you’d have never found at any of the cheaper college bars closer to campus. Stupidly expensive, but the gold leaf that swirled in your glass was pretty, at least. The conversation between the two of you started out with safe topics like school and internships, but Sana, you found, was fun to talk to. Your conversation with her continued to flow naturally into other topics like music and shows. You were just about to ask her what her availability looked like for next week in hopes of meeting up again, when she turned to face you. 

“So, Tinder, huh?” she asked, a playful smile on her face. 

You felt your face burn. Sana signaled for two more drinks, giving you a millisecond to try and compose yourself before you died of embarrassment right there in the dark, moody bar. 

“Uh, yeah. It– it was mostly to try and make friends,” you stammered. Sana nodded slowly. 

“Mostly, sure,” Sana said. “Have you had any luck? Or– are you seeing someone?” she flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder casually, and the crisp, fresh scent of her hair products felt intoxicating suddenly. “I can never remember who in our cohort does and doesn’t have a significant other.” 

“I haven’t,” you said, maybe a little too quickly. “And no. I got stood up for the first time ever like right after moving here…” you paused to take a sip of the fresh drink in front of you. “Kinda took the fun out of wanting to find someone,” you said. 

Sana frowned. “You’re way too cute to be stood up,” she said. 

You blushed. “Oh, well–” 

“Forgive me,” Sana cut you off. “If this is like, entirely too forward…” she nearly drained her glass as she raised it to her lips to drink. “I know you said you’re using the app for friends and that’s cute, but I think I saw your profile say you’re a…” her gaze found yours. “...service top?”

“Oh god,” you cringed, mentally kicking yourself for putting that on there in the first place. “You saw that?” 

“Yes,” Sana said, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Personally, I’d love to see for myself sometime.”  

“You– what?” You almost laughed, thinking she was joking at first. But then Sana gave you a once over and you nearly fell over. She wasn’t kidding. 

Wordlessly, Sana flagged down the bartender. She paid for both rounds for both of you. As she signed her name on the receipt, she looked at you again. “Are you free tomorrow night?” 

You nodded dumbly, moving to stand when she did. She hugged you. Had her perfume always smelled that good? You couldn’t remember now. When you pulled away, you must have had a deer-in-the-headlights expression on your face, because Sana giggled. 

“See you tomorrow,” she said, brushing your arm lightly. “I’m free after seven. Wear something cute.” 

[gamesetart]

when art finally caves on taking off the ring i feel like he waits for a date. wants it to still feel as romantic and sweet as possible, brings flowers. then after the gloves come off he’ll offer you one final fuck w patrick. but he has to be included

folks we have to BUILD UP to stuff like this where's the pining where's the tension--

it takes a while. it takes tashi breaking up with patrick for art to make a few decisions. he recognises both the urge to hurt patrick, and the desperate desire to get him back. because before he was tashi's boyfriend, he was art's best friend.

art knows how to have both, at least one last time. whatever happens after that will just have to happen.

he takes you out on a date. lavish, even by his standards; a giant bouquet of your favourite flowers, a restaurant on the water. the stars are shining. he wears a suit, you a gorgeous cocktail dress he'd bought for you. heels to match, too. the two of you have three courses, then he walks you all the way back to the dorms. to his door. and you think he'll kiss you sweetly and ask you to stay, but he doesn't. he opens the door and its like your heart falls out of your chest.

instead, you make direct eye contact with patrick fucking zweig.

you swallow. patrick greets you with a grin.

"i thought you might like to fuck him again," art says, the door closing behind him with a click. and it sounds so strange and vulgar in art's sweet tones, so foreign on his tongue. "since he was the best you've ever had, and all."

your heart twists. patrick told - of course patrick told. they're best friends. of fucking course patrick spilled as soon as he could. bragging rights.

"art-" you try, but he cuts you off.

"i figure you should have a reminder of where the benchmark is," art continues simply. "before it changes."

at this, patrick laughs. "don't get cocky, donaldson. you don’t wanna give her false hope."

you're putting the pieces together, slowly but surely. oh. that was why - the dinner, the dress, the suit. art's ready. and you're conflicted, because you wanted this, you always wanted it, but when on earth did he get so... cocky? is it just because patrick's in the room? is he peacocking for his best friends's benefit?

art watches patrick fuck you. and fuck really is the only good word for it. your face in the mattress, his hand on your hip, dragging you back to meet every one of his thrusts. patrick is rough and fast and dirty. he doesn't savour you like he should, art thinks. but then again, what would patrick know? you're art's girl. patrick's just a dick you cum around.

art knows better. art can show you better, he thinks. he eats you out the way you taught him, and some part of him is aware of patrick's taste mingling with yours as he does, and some worse, smaller part of him likes it. he preps you gently, even after you've already been stretched open nicely by patrick's cock.

and, right before he slides home, he pulls the ring off his hand. he places it on your middle finger - it's a little big, it hardly matters - and kisses you. you're his, as much as he is yours.

[shiganshinaslut]

i want scara to breed me full-

18+||MINORS DNI

Me too :( He’s so possessive and this is just another way of marking you and claiming you as his. He holds you impossibly close, arms squeezing you tighter and tighter as he thrusts into you with no mercy. He leans in close to your ear and you can hear him panting softly before he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m gonna cum inside you...gonna fill you up with my cum...” He lets out a breathy laugh “Ha, yeah? You want that? I’ll give it to you...”

[alwaysurvalentine]

Written for Day 14 of @steddieangstyaugust - prompt: lake - wc: 262 - cw: none

- fair warning I wrote this in my notes app so forgive me for mistakes please 🥲

Enjoy! 💛

Drowning. Steve’s drowning. The lake swallowed him up when he tried to get back on the boat. Brave Buckley and Wheeler had dived in after him. Left Eddie no choice but to jump in too.

Wait- he’s already done this.

Chittering. The bats are chittering and swarming around him to take bites. He doesn’t have it in him to fight them off anymore. Can’t remember when he dropped the shield- he just hopes Dustin is okay.

He’s done this too.

Three gentle squeezes. The Munson’s way to say a silent I love you. His mom must be holding his hand, but why can’t he open his eyes? There’s a constant beeping in the background too.

Wait, it can’t be his mom, must be Wayne.

Hushed voices. He can’t pick up what they’re saying exactly, but he can’t help but feel comforted by the sound. Someone gets loud unexpectedly and he feels eyes turn towards him in the silence that follows. He still can’t open his eyes.

I’m trying guys! I’m trying!

A hand holding his, different than the one before. No squeezes. Just a constant, steady pressure. Finally, his eyes crack open the smallest amount.

Brown locks hang over the persons face, but the moles on his neck give him away. Steve Harrington is sitting at Eddie’s bedside with a faded Hawkins high shirt and jeans on. His hazel eyes are locked on where their hands are connected, his basically cradling Eddie’s. He looks sad.

With all the effort he has, Eddie presses three times against the palm of Steve’s hand.

[orangesocksonmyeyes]

right side of my neck pt2

bf!rafe cameron x gf!reader

warnings: mentions of violence (not against reader), slight manipulation, toxic relationship blah blah typical rafe stuff

this isn’t proof read SUE ME

after a lot of convincing and possible begging, rafe finally agreed to not do anything.

i eventually passed out in his arms with my head tucked against his chest. he was a night owl. most nights when i slept, he didn’t. we were opposites in many ways and sometimes i wondered how we became a functioning couple.

i stirred in my sleep when i felt the bed dip and arms return around me. this time they were cold. my eyes flickered open to see rafe already looking at me with sleepy eyes. his hair was disheveled and sweat glistened on his forehead in the dim lighting of the moon.

he must’ve noticed my staring because he quickly started running his hand through my hair, something he often does to get me to fall asleep.

it almost worked, had it not been for the slight wince i saw on his face when i leaned towards his hand.

i quickly sat up and clicked on the bedside lamp, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling his hand into view. fresh bruises and cuts littered his knuckles, the skin dry and cracked from the cold.

i should’ve made him promise.

he tucked his other arm behind his head, as if nothing was wrong at all. “are you serious?” i muttered, dropping his hand as i stared at him. he stared back at me, laying his fallen hand flat on his stomach. “you said you wouldn’t do anything, rafe.” i put my fingers to my temples in frustration.

rafe drummed his fingers along his stomach. “relax. he won’t tell.” he said nonchalantly.

he wont tell. good, so he’s alive.

“that’s not even the point.” i muttered, glancing at the clock that read 4:15am. i fell asleep at one, he was gone for three hours doing who knows what to that guy.

rafe leaned on his elbows as he sat up. he reached for my hands, i pulled away.

“baby, i did this for you.” he said, his voice cracking.

his looked at me with puppy dog eyes.

despite how i wanted to react, my heart ached at his words. i often had to remind myself that rafe didn���t think like i did. or like anyone did.

i sighed and pulled him into my chest by the nape of his neck, his looped his arms around my waist as i held him. “did anyone see you?” i whispered.

“do they ever?” he hummed.

cocky bastard.

———————————————————————

ermm nobody beat me up for this being SO short 😃 this is for @iwasunderduress again and any1 else who showed love on part one. I LOVE U 😜

drew looks so fine in that pic hello ? #drewstarkeymunch

[mr-m-murdock]

If your requests are open ....needy Nat? Maybe in "only pretty faces" . Something about Natasha being only weak/needing for r

only girl in the world

| natasha x reader | only pretty faces |

warnings: none :) CUDDLES

Now that you don't need to watch her every move, it's suddenly become extraordinarily easy to observe her. Ironically.

She's all straight spine and eyes constantly on the move. If she'd let anyone catch sight of her in a crowd, even a child would notice the danger on her. Like the smell of gasoline. The aura of an ethanol fire in the dark.

Her hands are strong just like the rest of her. You've traced sinew and scar tissue blindly with your thumb so many times you could map her skin in your sleep. And sure, she's attentive and prowling when you're out, but when you're alone...

Right now, in the dimly-lit sitting room with the shutters closed at the windows, Natalia's face is tucked into the curve of your shoulder. She's loose. The slackened muscles of a leopard observing the ground from a high perch, perhaps, but loose all the same. Her eyes are closed, the light of the TV flickers on her cheeks. With a gentle snuffle, she falls deeper asleep.

It's almost a miracle. But if you think about it hard enough, you're sure you can recall the heavy weight of her head on your shoulder just like this, twenty five years ago. And you know you remember waking up with your cheek crushed against her t-shirt when you'd convinced yourself you hated her. Maybe the two of you were always meant to crawl back to each other like this, bone-tired. Maybe she was made to fit against your side like this.

But you know the truth. You were shaped by men who'd killed gods, with their syringes and their blank white stares. You'd morphed yourself to lie here with Natalia. You'd each carved pieces out of yourselves, in the privacy of dark rooms and the solitude of those arrow-sharp minds of yours, to fit the other into the cavity.

There's no fate. You choose to love her. She's chosen to shut her eyes, one hand fisted in the thigh of your sweatpants, and fall into the place you made for her, be it jagged and imperfect. Just for you.

requests | masterlist

taglist: @when-wolves-howl @fayhar @maggieromanov @waitingroom-pb @romanoffscottage @blackxwidowsxwife @lizlil @screechcat @maddess @natsaffection @haeva @diaryoflife @natashasilverfox @vicmc624  @strangegardentaco  @phantomvael @lorsstar1st  @blckrwidow @ima-gi--na-tion @paryl @aan-myouim @smalls-words @lainjupi  @d1s0nym @meimei-a @the-v01d @kqmui @s1ut4nat @btay3115   @idkjustliving2 @lokisjuicyass @mmmmokdok  @silentwolfsstuff  @olicity-boo @iliketozoneout

[lukesvangelista]

𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐓ᵉᵉ⁷³

in which y/n is a famous actress and ethan is there to provide comfort before they make their red carpet debut as a couple.

warnings; possible angry fans

You smiled as you looked at yourself in the mirror, smoothing down the fabric of your satin red dress, red lipstick prominent on your lips. Your hair was done in a tight, slicked back ponytail, sprayed with so much hairspray that no flyaways were visible. Silver diamond earrings hung from your ears, and as you stared down at the silver heels you were currently wearing, you felt a pair of hands snake around your waist. Ethan.

“You look stunning, princess. Everyone’s going to love you.” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

Focusing your attention on him, you gripped his hands that were currently around your waist, “I know that, E. I’m just nervous about how people are going to react to us.”

You were a fairly new actress, but your talent was practically unmatched. Within three years, you had landed roles in shows such as Ted Lasso, Defending Jacob, The Bear, and The Summer I Turned Pretty. Most recently, however, you had starred as Natalie Blake in The Black Phone, older sister to Finney and Gwen Blake. You were even nominated for Best Supporting Actress for that role, an accomplishment that you were extremely proud of. Along with the success, however, comes die hard fans. And some of those die hard fans aren’t the nicest when it comes to respecting personal relationships.

Ethan had his fair share of die hard fans as well. He was a decently known hockey player at the University of Michigan, with connections to the New Jersey Devils, and his looks (and talent, but mostly looks) didn’t go unnoticed by a lot of teenage and college-aged girls. Meaning that when Ethan reveals a relationship, a lot of those girls aren’t going to be happy. You were nervous about the possible hate that would surround your guys’ relationship when you went public.

Ethan sighed, unraveling his hands from your waist and gently grabbing your chin to force you to look up at him, “I know you are, Y/N, and that’s okay. It’s totally understandable to be nervous. But I want you to know that I’m here for you every step of the way, okay? I don’t care how people take our relationship, because I know that you’re in love with me and I also know that I’m in love with you.”

You simply nodded, a small smile growing on your face as Ethan’s words somehow reassured you. At the sight of your grin, Ethan’s own smile widened and he pulled you in for a quick kiss on the lips. After he pulled away, you quickly spoke up, “Ethan?”

“Yes, princess?”

“Say it again,” you asked. Ethan had told you that he was in love with you plenty of times before, but this time it felt different. More comforting, perhaps.

When Ethan realized what you meant, a small smirk grew on his face, “I’m in love with you, okay? Now, are you ready to go and proclaim our love to the world through paparazzi photos?” he asked sarcastically.

“Hell yeah.”

“That’s my girl.”

[cometapollo]

dude PLEASE do some Christmas headcanons for TPOF cast, I need to know what u think they do (specifically mason cuz I'm obsessed with him atm <33)

Naw cus The Price of Christmas would be such a chaotic fangame. I need it in my life

I have this general headcanon that Mason will just pick up and carry Fox whenever and wherever he felt like it- just picks him up by his waist and slings him over the shoulder. Fox just texts Mason like

Fox; I need to be tall.

M.Heiral; ego or lights

Fox; Both.

M.Heiral; k

and then boom, Operation Christmas Lights is a go.

Derek harasses those mall Santas.

Celia gives everyone the most expensive gifts possible. It don't matter who it is, she's spoiling them for the holidays.

Komodo and Dragon make homemade christmas cards together over the course of about a week. Derek doesn't get one.

Fox hosts a Christmas party on Christmas Eve, featuring classics such as Secret Santa, eggnog contests, in-person torture sessions, watch-a-thons, and more!

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

Fête des Pères (TF2 SpyDad Thing)

————————————————————

Scout sat on his bed, clutching the card he had made. He had always been an artist by nature. He looked at it with a weird feeling well in his chest. What was he thinking? He hated Spy. He was sure of it. The arrogant bastard. Who cares if he "apologized?" It was fake. It had to be. There was nothing about that man that could be real.

So it didn't matter. The apologies, the attempts to reconcile, even the rare moments where forgiveness felt like a tangible thing. Scout crumpled the card. Swallowing the feelings, the anger, the sadness, all of it. He let out a shaky breath, rising to his feet. He needed to take a walk. He just needed to clear his mind, and throw away this damn card.

But even as he walked the halls of the base, anger bubbling inside him, he found himself in front of the one place he knew Spy would be. He had half a mind to start another screaming match with him. Not that it would be productive, but surely it would quell the resentment. He stared at the door, holding up his hand to pound at the door.

Spy sat in his smoking room as was common for most moments of downtime he had on the base. Cigarette in one hand, a scribbled crayon drawing of a family tightly clutched in the other. As if holding onto it would keep his latch on a distant memory would keep it from fading away. It was fuzzy in his mind, but he could still recall it.

It was early fall. The weather still cooling down from the blistering heat of summer. Spy leaned back in his armchair, watching as the young boy in front of him drawing with a purpose. His entire being focused on making the drawing perfect. Spy chuckled to himself, amused at the antics. The young boy suddenly shot up, triumphantly exclaiming its perfection with a look of unyielding pride. Half the words were spelled wrong, and the drawing was nonsensical. But Spy smiled none the less, ruffling the boys hair as he praised him for his effort.

He leaned back, tucking the drawing away and putting out the cigarette before rubbing his temple. The bittersweet feeling of nostalgia and regret settled inside him. He couldn't sit in here anymore. The room suddenly felt too small. Everything was too much. He stood up quickly and opened the door.

Scout was there. Crouched down, about to just slip something under the door, and just for a split second, Spy saw the little boy he left. Scout stood up quickly, chuckling nervously. He uncrumpled the card a bit more, trying to make it at least look slightly neater. Without looking at the man in front of him, he handed over the card.

"Hey, uh..." he scratched the back of his neck, "I guess it's Father's Day or whatever, so you know, happy that, I guess." He said quietly, not looking him in the eye.

Spy accepted the card with a polite thank you. Before stepping back, opening the door to the room, ignoring his previous attempts to leave. Scout was here, and he was sure that would make the room a little less small. Scout was here, and it was Father's Day, and Spy wasn't going to miss spending it with him.

————————————————————

Happy Father's Day, Spy!

[rodeoxqueen]

Dante with a 4' 8" male reader (fluff and/or spicy) (･ω･) Dante is 6' 4" or 6' 3"I think 🤔

Dante personally loves the height difference.

Will pick you up and give you a big old kiss.

Notices he doesn't know where you are and the first thing he'll do is look down.

Likes to compare hand sizes.

Won't hold your height above you (see what I did there) but is more overprotective when he feels you're in danger.

His favorite thing for when you two haven't seen each other in a while is that he will literally pick you up and kiss you on the cheek.

Dante is a very strong and tall man so during sex, he will pick you up and fuck you onto his cock. It gets you moaning and squirming all over him.

Due to your smaller stature, Dante finds it is easier to pin you into all sorts of positions. His favorite is pinning your knees to your chest while he thrusts into your special spot, driving you crazy and breathless.

[purplestars222]

Radiodust - Dangerously yours.

human au - loosely based on this https://youtu.be/EtWmN6yoG_k?si=ivUQofNyh6AfBGk9

cw; death, drugs/addiction, suicide (angel)

this is short because i am in pain. ill probably come out with a longer version of this soon but for now enjoy this <3

Anthony, wanting to get away from his father and the mob, ran off to Louisiana. Little did he know, it would change his life forever. He meets a local radio host at a small cafe one afternoon. They get to talking, and Anthony accidentally lets it slip that hes part of the mob. The other man seems a little shocked, But Anthony is disappointed. He didn't want to kill this man, now he has to. He gets alastor to go with him to the forest for a walk As anthony pulls out his gun, alastor pulls out his knife. They both look at each other for a few seconds, then anthony starts laughing

That was the beginning of a beautiful relationship. Anthony stays home, and cooks meals for alastor and cleans, while alastor goes out 'hunting' and doing his radio show. It was perfect up until alastor finds drugs stashed in anthonys pillowcase. Cocaine. Terrible thing.

Alastor decides to flush it, and Anthony gets very mad. He sleeps in a separate room. They start drifting apart, until one day, Anthony pulls a gun on his lover during an argument about all the killings, Anthony wants alastor to stop murdering, Alastor wants anthony to stop doing drugs.

"You mean you're actually going to kill me?" Alastor chuckles to himself

"I mean just that!" Anthony's voice comes out a broken sob

"Well, go ahead my dear."

"I will!"

"You wont do it."

"Shutup alastor! just-"

"You won't pull the trigger because you love me, mon ange. It takes a very cold & heartless man to kill someone you love, and i know you don't have it in you."

Within seconds, angel flips the gun towards himself and pulls the trigger. Alastor stands there, the smile on his face slowly fading. this isnt real, right? No, anthony wouldn't do this- Its some kind of sick joke

"A-anthony dear- This isnt funny anymore, get up."

Alastor stares at his body, the blood oozing out of his head, the sweet smell is almost driving alastor insane

"Mon ange? Please-" Alastor crouches down to sit on his knees next to the body, he lifts him up into his lap and starts crying. This still has to be a prank right? it cant be real. Alastor quickly grabs his bandages and wraps anthonys head

"Im so sorry, my love- i didnt mean for this to- please come back..."

[spot-conlons-pimp-cane]

i have been watching this video on loop for an hour and I have a few thoughts

the outfits (every one of them looks like they are going to a different place)

jacob laughing as soon as Tommy starts singing

tommy saying "I'm like no not really" Jacob just goes like 'alr wtv'

their dancing after shouting out the trumpet player

the body roll thing tommy does, then jacob joining in

side note: Iain's hat is amazing and I am looking for one on Amazon rn ngl

[corn-fanfiction]

SAVIOUR COMPLEX (Marx Hoffman x F!Reader Pt. 8)

(Pt. 7)

Rating: M

TAGS: language/past abuse/Mark Hoffman being a c*p/reader's life is maybe becoming less normal/Mark is protective bc it's his job but he's also problematic/because he's a c*p/Detective Gibson is his own tw/no Mark Hoffman this chapter :(/ busy being jigsaw a badass

Gibson shows up on your doorstep at 7:45 sharp.

He’s in the full getup now, suit jacket and pressed shirt with his side piece on display. You roll your eyes and push past him, your restaurant uniform on and your feet taking you there.

“What? No hello?”

“Hello,” you mutter through gritted teeth. Before you can walk past his cruiser, he’s got a hand on your bicep. You freeze.

It doesn’t help that he has a similar build to Ted, that their hair is the same color. You know it’s not him. But it jolts you anyhow and you manage to unfreeze and yank your arm away.

“Just because you’ve been assigned my case doesn’t mean you can put hands on me.”

“You didn’t seem to mind when it was Mark.”

“Right. And you’re not him. Seems pretty clear cut to me.”

He takes a moment before gesturing to the cruiser.

“Get in.”

You bunch your brow in confusion.

“Um…no?”

“Resisting an officer?”

You roll your eyes. “Did they stick you with me because you were too busy being an asshole to do your actual job?”

“Damn, you’re quick.”

“Thanks. Helps me get away from asshole cops with a power complex.”

“You can keep digging yourself that hole; either way, you’re getting in the car. Don’t wanna be late for work, do you? Can you make it in 10?”

You glance at your watch and groan. He’s kept you here for five minutes and no, you can’t walk it in 10.

“Fine. Do I have to get in the back, too?”

“Keep it up and you just might.”

You don’t put up anymore of a fight and crawl into the passenger seat. Gibson starts the drive and you watch the neighborhood pass by the window.

“Why do you hate Hoffman so much?”

Mark’s last name feels strange coming out of your mouth after you’ve kissed him so much. Gibson chuckles.

“It’s not that black and white. I don’t hate him. I hate when people get unfocused and irresponsible.”

“Don’t kid yourself,” you mutter to the glass.

“What was that?”

You want his job.

“Nothing.”

Neither of you engage with the other for the rest of the trip and Gibson leaves as soon as he drops you off. You come in through the back, grinding your teeth, irreversibly on edge for the rest of the day. You slam your locked door a little too hard and Gerri looks up from the soda fountain in the alley.

“Woah there. Locker not tip you well?”

“Sorry,” you mumble. “Fuckin’… long ass story. You keep up with the news?”

Gerri shrugs. “Not really. Figure if it’s important enough I’ll hear about it. Why?”

“Well, guess you’ll hear it from me.”

You and Gerri both do your best to not neglect your tables but every time you’re at the running window or the server’s alley you’re butting heads together and whispering.

“So he’s kicked off the case? Just like that?”

“This smug little bastard- and Mark’s smug too but he wears it well at least, but this weasel has decided to make it his mission to make me miserable. Which, like, what’s the point?”

“Maybe to get back at Hoffman? What’s their beef anyway?”

The answer is delayed when a busser pushes through with a rack of dirty dishes.

“Gibson says there is no beef. Like I’m supposed to believe that.”

“Have you talked to Mark about it yet?”

“Not since last night. I don’t know what to even say. I told him we probably needed time to cool off.”

“What, like a break?”

“If you wanna call it that.”

“Sounds to me like that’s what it is.”

The busser stops in front of you two and sighs loudly.

“Can you please clear the alley!” He says unnecessarily loudly. Gerri gives him the bird.

“Fuck off, hourly wage.”

Despite the snark you both move and get the drinks you came back here for.

“I don’t know, I think you should talk to him. And what’s up with the Jigsaw guy? Do you think Ted was some sort of…message?”

Your stomach coils. “Message?”

Gerri shrugs. “I don’t know. This is the second time you’ve been involved. First time, you’re a witness and get his operation shut down. Second time it’s your ex in a trap. Not to mention…” they trail off. You raise your eyebrows.

“What?”

“I-“ they hesitate.

“Gerri, what?” You begin to grow agitated, like maybe you know the theory they’re reaching towards.

“I’m just saying, who else has been there the first time, and a second time?”

You roll your eyes.

“Gerri-“

“Am I wrong?”

“No, of course you’re not-“

“Listen, I’m not saying one way or the other, but maybe that’s why Gibson is being such a hard ass, right?”

You stutter, nearly dropping a salad onto your table. You apologize, run your routine, then catch up with them.

“Okay, so what? You think he’s in trouble? Like, prison trouble?”

“I’m Cochran all of a sudden? I don’t know. But that’s what it sounds like to me.”

Your head swims. You grab Gerri by the arm and pull them back by a serving station.

“Do you think…” you chew on your lip where a cut is beginning to form. “I mean…”

“Oh hon. I don’t know. I mean, you know him, I don’t.”

“But…I don’t know him. Not really.”

“Hey, why the change of heart?”

You don’t even realize you’ve started crying until Gerri’s handing you a napkin.

“Fuck. God, I hate crying at work.”

“Wanna go to the walk-in?”

You snort through the snot and turn away from the tables.

“Fuck you for making me laugh.”

“It’s my job, isn’t it? Don’t worry about it. So you let it cool off. Don’t call him. If he calls you, sure. If he wants to meet, do it here. I’m sure it’s all fine. Now I wish I hadn’t said a word.”

You wave your hand and use a yet-to-be-bussed cup’s condensation to wet the napkin and dab at your ruined makeup.

“No, I needed to hear it. I’ve been thinking it but I'm too scared to say it out loud. Feels like a betrayal.”

“Hey, you don’t owe the guy anything.”

“I mean, he took care of me, Ger. Patient with me, kind, slept next to me all night and didn’t do so much as touch me.”

“The bare minimum,” Gerri mutters.

“Hey, that’s not fair.”

Gerri shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t know. Just consider what I said, alright? I hope we’re both wrong. I hope this all gets straightened out, the Jigsaw killer fries and we both get big glamorous jobs and you get to fuck a hotshot detective every night of the week.”

You throw your head back in laughter and the two of you return to run food. Your heart feels a little lighter.

[omgwhatchloe]

I'm here to ask you something about your modern au. Tell me anything. Or everything.

THANK YOU IM USING THIS TO TALK ABOUT JOHN!!

-when jack was born, big man marston didnt even get the chance to run away. josiah stole a dna test, which pretty much proved john was his father. it was actually one that said what countries jack was from, and as soon as scotland popped up on the computer next to america, arthur just gave john the shittiest grin. this helped him to get over himself much quicker and, to abigails absolute relief, there was no debate on whether jack was his or not. my poor queen ily.

-drunk john is so chaotic but its also dutch’s favourite john because hes not so, in dutch’s words during a rant, “goddamn fucking miserable”. drunk john is a dancer, but the most embarrassing dancer on the planet. in a sad sort of way, its also when he’s nicest to jack. he gives him cuddles and snacks and walks around telling everyone to look at his boy.

-because he didn’t leave for a year, his relationship with arthur actually isnt damaged, and is a lot better than it was in the game. when they plan jobs, they automatically plan what the other is doing in that job without even asking if they want to do it. they have always seen each other as brothers and refer to each other as it.

-arthur suggested to take jack out camping, and john agreed. and this is where he got his scars. when he was on the floor bleeding, he was close to tears, but that was because he’d put jack in so much danger and he felt so guilty about it. jack was bawling too, terrified at the sight of john, and called 9-1-1 instead of arthur, despite what john told him to do. both john and jack are absolutely terrified of wolves now.

-johns favourite movie has always been and always will be cars. every single movie night he suggests cars.