#did u know i love guns n roses? because i do. i really do.

[infjinthecity]

Hi Tumblr, What's Up?

Hello Tumblr! Can you believe I have existed in fandom spaces for this long and have never been on this platform? It seems that Tumblr is fandom’s MVP but I just never made the trek over this way – anyways, I’m here now. If you’re reading this, it’s probably because I told you about it on one of the other social media platforms and you probably at least know that I’ve very recently packed up my life and moved to China! I’ve been trying to figure out the best way to document my experiences here, and although we live in a visual era, I’m just not interested in being in front of a camera. I love to write and want to talk about my journey, so a blog seems like the best fit for me.

So, why China? Despite the fandom spaces that I occupy, my decision to move to China had absolutely nothing to do with Zhang Yixing or Wang Yibo. When people ask me why I made this change, I jokingly tell them it was an act of sheer desperation, but really, although I’ve always been joking when I’ve said that, it’s not too far from the truth. If you’re interested in learning why I moved to China and hearing about my experiences here, I hope you’ll stick around.  

Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

If you don’t know, I’m Australian but I have spent the majority of the last 14 years living and teaching in the United States. I worked in Los Angeles for 11 years and then in New York City for another 2 before I packed myself and my cat up and went back to Australia. I left the United States for three main reasons – all of which were related to my job. In no particular order, because they were all as problematic for me as each other, I left because of low teacher pay, egregious student behaviour, and the insanely high workload. In short, I was b u r n e d o u t. A lot of Western countries are experiencing a teacher shortage right now, and America is definitely leading the charge. There is a reason why people are fleeing the profession, and most of them are rooted the same reasons that I left the country.

I went back to Australia naively thinking that work was going to be better there. I grew up there and went to school there, and I completed my teacher training in Australia.  When I went through my university degree and prac assignments in Victoria, the job was definitely not this. So I returned  home with rose-coloured glasses thinking that teaching would be far superior in Australia than the experiences I was having in the United States. Boy, was I ever wrong! While the kids in Australia don’t have guns like they do in the U.S., their attitudes towards education and teachers in general is very reminiscent of what is going on in the U.S, and schools are still places of violence and conflict. I can’t speak for the private system, but all my friends in the public system say the same thing. And honestly, teacher workload in Australia is not lesser than that of the U.S., so I found myself – again - completely stressed out all the time, despite making this huge change that was supposed to better my life. That coupled with the outrageous cost of living in Australia (my god things got really expensive while I was living abroad) prompted a pervasive idea that just would not stop taunting me. The voice inside me kept saying I can’t do this anymore.

And so, it became clear that I had a choice to make: either stop teaching altogether or find somewhere to teach that isn’t going to break me. I did not initially consider China but as I continued to research my options, all roads always lead right here – The People’s Republic of China.

And, to cut a very long story (which I will elaborate on in other posts) short, here I am!

Right Here, Right Now

I’ve been here for 38 days now and it’s been the mother of all whirlwinds, for sure. I had been to China twice before on holidays (one of those holidays was to scope out my city and my school) so it wasn’t like I was coming into the country blind, like so many other foreigners do, but even so, it’s been hard. Very hard. Maybe one of the hardest things I’ve ever done? Probably.

I don’t speak the language very well, despite all the lessons I’ve been taking. Man, nothing tests your skills like absolute immersion and being surrounded by people who don’t speak a lick of your native language. I’m an articulate, educated person and here I’m reduced to a blubbering mess who stumbles and fumbles over sentence fragments, and fragments of fragments! The language is going to take time. A lot of time.

I’ve had many low points, and there were a few days a couple of weeks ago when I was legitimately considering throwing in the towel and going home. But, I am still here, so obviously I didn’t do that. And I’m glad I didn’t because it’s getting easier and all the things I love about China are starting to overshadow all the hard things that make me feel like living here is impossible.

My cat is arriving from Australia on October 11 so we’re here for the longer haul after that. I can’t take him back to Australia from China (I’ll make a post about that later) so we either stay till he dies, or we exit and live in another country for a year before returning home. Don’t worry, I have an exit strategy planned if I need it, I just don’t want to need it, if you get me.

I’ll be blogging about teaching here, my fandom experiences (of which, I’ve already been lucky enough to have some of), travel, and general thoughts and insights on what it’s like to live in China as a foreigner.

I hope you stick around because this place is crazy and I’ve got so much to tell you all. If you’ve got questions, I’m happy to answer them. I'm new to this Tumblr thing so be kind and patient with me while I work it all out!

Till next time, peace.

[oldmyths]

what’s my favorite gnr songs from uyi1 you ask? Great here we go

just kidding i have no favorites but now i’m thinking about it, and maybe i do. let’s work it out together, shall we?

it goes without god damn saying these albums are masterpieces and if anyone ever dares tellin’ me there’s “too much filler” i’m sorry but i’l have to fill the space you leave behind with someone i can actually talk to.

you cannot talk about use your illusion i without mentioning the intro and outro tracks. because they slap so god damn hard i won’t pick either of them as my favorite, cos then this post would be over and that’s unfair because this album has so many good songs.

uyi1 is full of music you can absolutely thrash to, the kinda music you can tear down your walls with your bare hands. izzy’s lead vocal contributions (dust n’ bones and double talkin’ jive) are, hands down, amazing. my heart boner explodes during dust n’ bones because i’m a gay disaster. my man slash does backing vocals during the penultimate moment in the song and i’ve watched so many live videos of this song Just to hear him. and that solo. jeeesus christ.

is dust n’ bones my favorite song though? nah.

double talkin’ jive is. good. it’s good. i like it. it segues into november rain, which is exactly what i wanna do.

you can’t get any more tragically gay than the music video. just kidding there’s no subtext. it’s not text. there’s nothing. But, when i showed my friend the music video, he was like “wow when slash walks out of that church where axl and st*phanie are getting married it looks kinda gay”

and, yknow what, i was inclined to agree.

slash’s solos fucking dominate my heart, my heart boner, and my ass. i would die for him. is this my favorite song? almost.

did you know guns n’ roses covered the beatles? just kidding they covered wings. live and let die to be precise. and it goes hard. like harder than it has any right to.

if you know me you’d think axl screaming paul mccartney lyrics into the microphone would be my favorite song but you’re wrong!

it’s hard. to like you ain’t the first and back off bitch. for. many reasons that may appear obvious to you. those aren’t my favorite songs either.

i actually preferred this album’s version of don’t cry for a long time. i was wrong. i mean they’re both good but uyi2′s version is so much more tragic and i’m still a 2004 emo in my soul somewhere. not my favorite.

perfect crime is the BEST song to listen to when you’re angry and nothing and everything and you just wanna SCREAM YOU WANNA FUCK WITH ME? DON’T FUCK WITH ME COS I’M WHAT YOU’LL BE, SO DON’T FUCK WITH ME!!!

not. my favorite though. slash really did that solo though, didn’t he.

it’s a! bad obsession! what a good song. i love axl’s like...country. voice. he was born in indiana and you can really hear it when he talks normally. i love him, unfortunately. not my favorite though! too bad!

SPEAKING OF HIS COUNTRY VOICE (quote-unquote) bad apples is out for my heart personally. what a JAZZY TUNE. that BASSLINE. duff sweetie you’re KILLIN IT. also the lyrics make me sad, but i’m also really proud of axl. he did that. good for him. almost my favorite.

i have a complicated relationship with don’t damn me because while it is a Good Song it’s also. not. a good song. contextually. they do nearly name drop the album title though (which they do fully in uyi2, and, thank god bc that shit makes me Die) and while that earns back some brownie points....nope.

dead horse makes me sad but also makes my gay stupid heart soar. axl wrote the guitar chords for the first bit and he played it on stage with slash once and slash leaned over like “here look at my fingers u can do it” and axl smiled like “fuck u i’m doin it right!!” and god i love my parents? i love them.

but i’m also pretty sure that moment was like from the last gnr show that had slash in it so. no dice.

so that just leaves Two songs left, if u didn’t know.

did you know alice cooper features in the garden? that’s cool. i don’t know him but i’ve seen gifs of him talking about john and paul and that’s a rabbit hole i Cannot go down today. back on track. this song is so surreal, if i could have a song describe what it’s like to have one of my dreams, this is probably it. maybe.

is it my favorite though? hm......

LOST IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN SAID WE’RE LOST IN THE GARDEN OF EDEN AND THERE’S NO ONE’S GONNA BELIEVE THIS BUT WE’RE LOST IN THE GARDEN OF EDENN

THIS FIIRE IS BURNIN AND IT’S OUTTA CONTROL, IT’S NOT A PROBLEM YOU CAN STOP IT’S ROCK AND ROLLLLLL

so that song fucking kills it forever. have you seen the music video? i’m gay. i’m really, really gay. is it my favorite?

do i even Have a favorite uyi1 song? is this post just a disguise for me to type off the anxiety i feel while talking about one of my favorite bands of all time?

well. guess it’ll remain...............................unsolved.

[one-sad-human]

•Pinky Promises• Steven Adler

Pairing: Steven Adler x Reader, Axl Rose x Sibling! Reader

Requested? Yup! By an anon

Theme: Angst(?) to fluff

Warnings: Language, sexual references but nothing explicit

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Fic 1 of 2! Hope you enjoy! Also, the makeout near the end gets sorta hot and it was pretty fun to write? Like I’m considering exploring into writing smutter pieces. I didn’t want to originally because I thought I’d cringe all the way through and hate the result but I might try it out in the near future. Nothing too crazy but it’s something for me to think about.

     You step off of the large bus, your combat boots hitting the ground as you adjust the bag slung over your shoulder. It's stuffed to the brim with whatever you threw in, you're surprised the zipper did burst.

     You take a deep breath of the LA air. It's hot and humid and despite the thick air pollution, you can breath easier than you did in Indiana.

     You grew up in Lafayette, Indiana with your older half-brother William. You were raised in the hellish house with your shared father, which you finally managed to escape.

     William left right at eighteen. He tried taking you with him, but you didn't want him to be charged with kidnapping and have the cops on his ass. Now, two years and your father's stolen wallet later, you're finally in the city of dreams.

     "Will!" You yell out, spotting your redheaded other half.

     "Y/N!" He mocks, catching your figure in a crushing hug. He's taller than you, so you have to stand on your tippy toes during the embrace. "Thank God you're alright."

     "I'm fine, I'm happy to finally see you again," you say, a huge grin on your face. "How's the band? Everything going well?"

     "Well enough," he says with a shrug, grabbing your heavy bag and slinging it around his shoulder. "Come on, I'll introduce you to the guys. You already know Izzy of course, but the rest of them."

     The walk to the 'hell house' as Will had called it is filled with catching up. He made sure to keep in contact with you, but the phone calls were always short. It felt nice to have a full length conversation in person with your brother again.

     "Welcome home," Will says, leading you into the house. You grimace when you catch a whiff of stale beer and weed.

     "You seriously live here? This place should be condemned," you say with disgust.

     "And then where would we live?" The oh-so familiar voice of Will's best friend meets your ears. You whip around and fly into his arms.

     "Jeffery! I missed you so much! You really should've tried calling, you ass!" You exclaim. Izzy rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless, patting your back during the hug.

     "Who's this?" Another man enters the living room— if that's what it should even be called. He's blonde, taller than you but shorter than the other two men in the room. He has kind eyes and the smile he has on his handsome face leaves you speechless.

     "U-uh, hi. I'm Y/N," you say after a moment of shameless gawking. If he noticed, he doesn't mention it.

     "Oh that's right! Axl talks a lot about you! I'm Steven," he says and bounds up to you, catching your hand in a shake. You don't question who the hell 'Axl' is, but you smile stupidly at him and bite your lip with a blush staining your face.

     "No," Will says, glaring at the cute blonde you've taking an immediate liking to. "Absolutely not."

     "William!" You squeak out, pinching his shoulder harsher. He yelps and swats your hand away. Will glares further at you as he ushers you up the creaky stairs to your room. "Nothing happened! And who the fuck is 'Axl'?"

     "I saw how you were looking at him! I'm not naive, Y/N. You were giving him the 'fuck me' eyes! And me, everyone calls me Axl here." You give him a look. "Except you, of course. You can call me Will."

     You don't give him another word as he leads you to your bedroom. He was the one who didn't have a roommate before, and he'd have to share with Slash now but he was determined to give you your privacy.

     "This is the only room with a working lock, use it. Especially when your changing! Three horny men in a house with one you isn't a good combo." You make a face and shake your head, but you can't really tell if he's being overprotective or if his band mates really are pigs.

     "Are you not including Izzy?"

     "Please, he's the only smart one besides me. He knows I'll rip him a new one." You laugh and give Will another hug.

     "I've really missed hanging out with you like this, and thank you for letting me stay here." He nods and rubs your back.

     "No problem, we have each other's backs, always." You nod and release your bother from the hug. "One rule though: no hooking up with the guys. One time thing or not, you don't know them like I do, I won't let you get hurt. So don't even try anything with Steven!"

     "Even if it's nothing sex?" Will levels you with a look that would make you sweat if you were anyone else. You sigh and roll your eyes. "Fine! I promise."

     "Pinky promise?" He asks, holding out his pinky finger. You shake your head but comply anyway, hooking your pinky on his.

     "Wow, bringing out the big guns, pinky promises," you tease.

     "Bitch," he mumbles. You gasp sarcastically.

     "Asshole!" You reply. William takes his leave with another slew of insults under his breath but none to be taken seriously and all with a smile. You shut your door after him and lay on your bed, content with how things are finally beginning to look up.

If you knew where you would be in just a few months of living with your brother and his band, you never would've agreed to the naive promise Will had forced on you. You think back to the day with a frown.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Steven asks, pecking your bare shoulder as he lays behind you on your bed. You both lay naked and damp with sweat, glowing from the moonlight streaming in the room.

"William," you say with a sigh.

"We just had sex and your thinking of your brother? Should I be worried about you?" Steven asks teasingly. You fight the smile growing on your face and lightly pinch the his arm tightly wrapped around you. He never fails to make you laugh.

"I just feel bad keeping this a secret from him." You turn around to be face to face with Steven. "It's been months of sneaking around. I'm always nervous we'll get caught together or I'll blurt it out to him."

"Then why don't we just tell him?"

"Do you want to die! Steven, honestly, do you have a death wish?"

"No, but—"

"Then we can't tell my brother we're together. He'll murder you, and then probably me one he finds out how long I've been lying to him," you say and move your head in the crook of Steven's neck.

"Then we can be together in the afterlife!" Steven folds his arms around you even tighter. "Seriously though, we can't lie to him forever. We've been together for six months already, surely he'll see how much we care about each other and not want to kill us."

"Yeah, maybe," you say halfheartedly and close your eyes, finally letting yourself fall asleep.

The next night, Guns has a gig at the Whiskey A-Go Go. The ritual goes like it has been, they play the gig, you wait for Will to get drunk, and you and Steven sneak out to the back of the club to make out and maybe get felt up a bit before returning like nothing happened.

It isn't different this time. Steven's hands leave your skin ablaze as he lets them wander down your sides and up your thighs. His lips don't leave yours, even as he squeezes your ass and you let out a moan. He grins on your mouth and presses his pelvis up to your stomach.

His mouth leaves yours to press feather light kisses to your cheek before trailing down your jaw and onto your neck, where he sucks nips at. You have to press a hand to your mouth to stay quiet.

"Don't leave marks," you remind him through batted breath.

"I won't," he reassures and silences you with a chaste kiss to your swollen lips before returning his attack on your neck.

You hear footsteps fast approaching, but as quickly as you hear them, Steven is ripped away from you. He's slammed into the brick wall next to you harshly and groans. You jump away and gasp.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" William asks, his voice lower than usual. His green eyes dark and downright scary.

"Will! Let him go, come on. Stop fucking around, you didn't have to slam him into a wall," you say, but your shaky voice falls on deaf ears as Will doesn't move. Your hands grasp at his arm and try to yank him away from Steven, but he's stronger and taller than you and doesn't budge, he just keeps his eyes focused on Steven.

"Nothing!" He squeaks out. Even in the dark, his kiss bruised lips and flushed red face is obvious.

"'Nothing?' That's why you were ten seconds away from fucking Y/N?" Will asks.

"William stop it! You're scaring me! Leave him alone!" You push him again and this time, he relents. Will paces and runs his hand through his red locks while you rush to make sure Steven is ok.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Steven mutters and presses a kiss to your brow to comfort you, sending you a smile when he pulls away. He keeps his hands on your arms and rubs circles with his thumbs.

"How long has this been going on?" Will asks, crossing his arms as he finally stops his pacing.

"Six months..." Steven says nervously. William scoffs and shakes his head. "But it isn't just fucking around! I love them, Ax. Really."

You smile bashfully, biting your lip to try and contain it. You knew you felt strongly for Steven and that he returned the feelings, but you haven't outright said you loved each other— until know of course.

Will stays silent for a few beats, staring contemplative at Steven. He finally sighs, bring a hand up to rub his temples like he has a building headache.

"Yeah? And you love him, Y/N?" He asks. You nod, reaching out to grab Steven's hand. Steven lets a grin creep on to his face. "Then I guess I can't stop you. But if you ever break their heart, I'll fucking gut you, Adler."

If Will makes Steven nervous, he doesn't show it. He gives him a salute with his puppy dog like smile before sticking out his pinky.

"I promise I'll never hurt Y/N purposely, ever." Will rolls his eyes, the irony makes him nearly groan aloud. He sucks it up anyway when he sees your hopeful expression, hooking his pinky onto Steven's.

"Don't make me regret this, Steven," Will grumbles before leaving and walking back into the crowded club. Steven lets out an exhilarated laugh and kisses you, hard.

"Told you he wouldn't kill me!" Steven exclaims, making you laugh out of surprise.

"And we don't have to sneak around anymore!" Steven kisses you again, and again and again until you're breathless.

"I'm so in love with you," he mumbles between his attack on your lips. You smile, tangling your hands in his aqua-net filled hair.

"As I am with you."

[thefanficmonster]

idk if u know him but i just found out that technoblade has cancer and now im really sad but it did get me a lil curious to see a small corpse x reader scenario or headcanons where reader announces they have cancer in the midst of playing with corpse and their friends on stream?

Sorry for the long wait dear but here is your request finally fulfilled. Because of my long queue I decided to go for headcanons and I hope you don't mind. If you want a full fic of this concept don't hesitate to let me know ~ XOXO, Vy 💕

Streamer gang & Reader (Gender Neutral)

TW: Mentions of suffering from cancer, Mentions of hospital visits and hospital treatment

- You had been running late for the stream you and the crew had arranged a few days prior - Because of certain problems with the system at you hospital, you had to attend your appointment that day instead of the day before, the timing clashing a bit with the timing of the stream - You sent Rae a quick text that you'd be late for the event, hoping she wouldn't ask why - And luckily she didn't - Truth be told, it's not like you were going to extreme lengths to hide your illness, you just didn't want you friends seeing you differently - Still, however, you were planning to tell them sooner or later - You always made up scenarios in your head of how it would go and only in a few were your news accepted lightly - You hated that you had to risk all those other, far less fortunate alternatives, but it was what it was and you had zero control of how they’d react so you were practically helpless in that field - That being said, you just let out a sigh every time your mind started going down that route - “Hey guys, sorry I’m late. The hospital messed up my appointment which was supposed to be YESTERDAY. So shout out to them, you guys suck. Just kidding, y’all keep me alive.” - Your friends chuckled at your comment, paying no mind to it as anything but a joke - “Time you switch hospitals then.” Toast nudges you jokingly - “Oh trust me, bro, that would be hella more complicated than just making appointments in my local one. All my paperwork, records, medical history, everything’s there. I can just about imagine how much of it would be lost if I moved.” - Corpse scoffs, amused, “Damn, you make it sound like you’re in and out of the hospital more than I am.” - You playfully roll your eyes even though he can’t see me, “Yeah, well having cancer does that to a person.” - The call goes quiet for a few moments, making you think back to what you just said, turning pale as a ghost, all you blood running cold - “Fuck-” Corpse is the first one to speak up, “That’s fucking horrible.” - “Why didn’t you tell us?” Rae follows him up, voice equally as concerned as Corpse’s, both of them clearly rattled by your confession - As is the rest of the game lobby - You fidget with your hands, your eyes stinging with sudden hot tears that are threatening to spill but you refuse to let them - The last thing you were expecting when imagining the aforementioned scenarios was crying - You thought you had come to terms with it long ago to the point where you can even joke about it but turns out you were wrong - “I-” You begin to speak but stutter because of the knot in your throat, “I didn’t want you guys to...pity me or see me any differently. I-..I wouldn’t be able to stand even you treating me like I’m fragile and overthinking everything you say in my presence.” - Your response is answered by another moment of silence before your racing mind is put to a slight ease by Corpse’s voice travelling through your headset - “Nothing will change, Y/N.” He says, tone still shaky but at least steadier than before, “You’re still the most badass impostor among us.” He pauses, “Pun was not intended, but I truly mean it.” - “Yeah, you’re still the same and so are we, this changes nothing.” Toast says reassuringly. - “However!” Rae interrupts, causing your heart to drop, “Do you promise to never again keep us in the dark about things going on in your life? We’re your friends and we wanna be there for you, don’t keep our hands tied.” - Your heart rose and dropped yet again but did so under the effect of a completely different emotion than before - joy - The tears prickling your eyes are now happy tears, ones you hadn’t let out in years - “I promise.” You say with a sniffle, “And one more thing...” - “Yeah?” Corpse says - “Thank you.”

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[jungshookz]

omg mean mr. park trying so hard not to give ballet!y/n special treatment that he goes too hard in the other direction and makes her cry!!!! and he’s like well i can’t fix it here in front of all these people what do i do what do i do

➺ pairing; park jimin x reader

➺ genre; balletteacher!jiminiverse!!! except uhhhhhh jimin’s a little scary in this one not going to lie <3 

➺ wordcount: 3.6k

➺ what to expect; “and take those goddamn leg warmers off.”

➺ optional readings: one; two; three; four

➺ note; this has been one of the hoTTest requests for a long time which doesn’t make any sense to me because whenever i get asked to write about this specific scenario i’m like?? you?? you WANT me to make y/n cry???? also i hope u don’t mind but i changed ur original request just a teensy bit because i didn’t want y/n to have to cry in front of everyone again otherwise she’s just going to be known as the class cry-baby and we should at least give her a tiny crumb of dignity 

                                      »»————-　♡　————-««

jimin… is getting soft.

which isn’t super great because he feels like his reputation as scary strict ballet instructor is going to go down the drain and disappear forever if he keeps going on like this

it’s not like he can help himself when his girlfriend is one of his students

(which… is still a secret, by the way. the two of you are surprisingly very good at keeping things somewhat professional. teamwork makes the dream work, right?)

the other day in class he literally had to pinch his arm to remind himself to stOP looking at you so fondly

he caught himself in the mirror with this dumb little smile on his face and his eyes all bright and twinkly as he watched you dance

and it certainly didn’t help that you smiled back at him before wiggling your brows knowingly

he can’t do things like that!

he has to be more careful!!

he has to toughen up!

he has to take a stand!

he’s going to have to pull out the big guns to prove to everyone that no, i don’t have any favourites, and no, i’m certainly not romantically attracted and in a very real relationship with one of you, not at all!

it just feels like no one really takes him seriously anymore??

especially after he gave all of you guys individual roses on valentine’s day

sometimes he thinks that maybe that was a little extra of him but he did genuinely feel bad about keeping you guys here when you could’ve been out spending the night with your significant others

anyways

his point is

he thinks that everyone is starting to fear him less and less with every passing day and he just can’t have that

and it doesn’t help that yoU very openly don’t take him that seriously in class because then everyone sees that as their opportunity to not take him seriously as well

it’s like suddenly you’ve labeled yourself as the ringleader of this circus and now he’s just one of your clowns

that’s not the way things should be!!!

hE’S the ringleader of this stupid ballet circus!!!!

the other week when he announced that your guys’ break would be over in approximately thirty seconds, you just turned around to look at him with big, pleading eyes and: “can’t we have five extra minutes of break time, mr. park? please?” and obviously he couldn’t say no to that because of your dumb stupid pretty googly eyes

and he thought that that would be the worst of it but nO

he was very wrong

because it got worse

people are starting to show up in sweatpants and hoodies instead of leotards and chiffon skirts and if there’s anything he hates the moSt on this planet, it’s people who don’t dress for the part

he hated watching all of you prancing around the room wearing grubby HOODIES

disgusting!!!

you can wear whatever you want outside of class, but he likes to think that he’s made it relatively clear that once you are in the confines of his classroom, the standards are higher than the heavens above

so, yes

he’s decided that today is going to be the day he grabs the reins and takes control once more

today’s break will be ten minutes and ten minutes only - with no extensions!

if he has to yell at someone today for messing up a move, you bet your ass he’s going to do just that - show no mercy!

he’s mr. park!

he’s in charge!

“i’m in charge.” jimin mutters to himself as he stands outside the classroom door

he nods firmly to himself before pushing the door open

“alright, ladies! let’s get ready to do some warm up exercises…” jimin announces loudly as soon as he steps into the classroom, a couple of the girls rushing to get up from the ground (it’s nice to see that some of you are still scared of him)

he pushes his sunglasses up to the top of his head when he notices that you’re continuing to gab away in the corner with lisa and the others

“uh, hello?” he clears his throat and you turn to look over your shoulder

“oh! hold up, mr. park, i’m almost done telling my story. so as i was saying-“ you turn back to the girls and jimin frowns

see?

this is exactly what he was talking about

when he used to walk into the classroom everyone would immediately get into neat rows of four

and now?

there are five girls who are lined up

five girls out of TWENTY

jimin pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he approaches you slowly, “miss y/l/n, i mean it.“ he warns, his grip tightening around his iced coffee, “finish your conversation now, please.”

he raises a brow when you flat out ignore him and he notices lisa reaching over to smack your kneecap before subtly gesturing upwards to him

he doesn’t know if you’re doing it on purpose but you’re really starting to push it

your shoulders drop as you let out a sigh and you turn around to look at him

“well?”

you frown and your lips twist  

“yeah, whatever- just gimme one more second, okay?“ you dismiss him with a flick of your wrist anD a roll of your eyes and his jaw drops in surprise

wha-

did you just-

did you-

did you just… flick your wrist at him?

and roll your eyes?

…

who exactly do you think you are?

jimin turns on his heel to go over to the cabinets that he usually puts his bag and his jacket in

he shakes his head and chuckles darkly to himself as the image of you flicking your wrist and rolling your eyes at him plays over and over again in his mind

are you serious?

did you actually do that to him?

in front of everyone?

wow

you really grew a pair since your ‘i’m 100% attracted to park jimin and i would love to sit on his face’ days, no?

what, you think that just because he’s your boyfriend that you get to get away with stunts like that?

how dare you!

outside of the classroom, yes, he’s your boyfriend, and yes, you can flick your wrist and roll your eyes at him all you want

but inside of the classroom?

jimin’s grip tightens around the edge of the cabinet door

absolutely fucking not.

the cabinet doors slam shut with a loud bang! and a couple of girls let out yelps of surprise at the sudden noise, “everyone get in line right now!”

your neck nearly snaps off from how quickly you turn to look and your eyes widen when you suddenly see everyone scrambling to get off the ground and to get in line

seriously??

you were almost done with your story :-//

you frown to yourself before getting up off the ground (and taking your time in doing so, because your knees are a little creaky this morning)

((you chose to snack on some crackers and dip instead of stretching before class because as far as you’re concerned, snacking is way more fun than stretching))

“y/n, let’s go-!“ lisa hisses and grabs your arm before dragging you up towards the front where you guys usually stand

“oh, would you relax?” you snort as you make your way to the front before moving into first position

you turn your head to let out a quiet yawn before turning back to face the front to see jimin looking directly at you

“am i boring you this afternoon, miss y/l/n?” he crosses his arms and you shrug sloppily in response  

jimin tilts his head, “can you use your words like a normal human being, please?”

you let out a sigh and resist the urge to roll your eyes at him again

he’s so uptight today!!

he was fine this morning before you left to go to class

what’s his problem??

“no, sir.” you raise a brow, “you’re not boring me. are you going to spend the rest of the class asking me questions or are we actually going to learn something today?”

in your peripheral vision you see lisa’s eyelids flutter shut and her head lower a little bit

what?

that was a genuine question!

it was supposed to be a joke???

tough crowd today lol

everyone can practically feel the tension in the air when jimin doesn’t immediately respond and instead glares at you with nothing but pure rage behind his brown eyes

“would you like to say that again, miss y/l/n?”

“oh, would you look at that? another question for me.” you chuckle lightly and look around at your peers to see if anyone else is cracking a smile

but everyone’s looking at you with wide eyes filled with what you can only make out to be complete and utter… is that fear?

even seulgi shakes her head no when the two of you lock gazes

???

what is going on today???

you turn back around and jump in surprise when you realize that jimin is now standing directly in front of you

and for the first time in a long time, you’re starting to feel a little nervous

you shift uncomfortably in your position and make an effort to stand up a little straighter

maybe you should-

“get out of my classroom.” jimin speaks lowly and your eyes widen in surprise

…

what?

“i-i’m sorry, sir?” you stammer before shaking your head, “i don’t unders-“

“get the hell out of my classroom, miss y/l/n!” he snaps before taking a step back and tilting his head at you, “and take those goddamn leg warmers off. do you think anyone at the academy is going to take you seriously if you show up to an audition with bright blue, fuzzy leg warmers with sheep all over them?”

oh god

okay

he’s not kidding

this isn’t funny anymore

“n-no sir, of course not-!” you shake your head quickly before bending down to yank your leg warmers off, “i-i’m not- i would never show up to an audition wearing these-”

you stumble over a little as you struggle to pull them off and lisa quickly reaches out to help you stay balanced

“can’t even keep yourself up on one foot without falling over, huh?” jimin scoffs before crossing his arms, “what, did you just sit on your ass for the entirety of quarantine?”

“of course not, mr. park.” you swallow thickly and shake your head again as you get back up onto your feet, tossing the leg warmers to the side, “i’m so sorry, sir.”

and just when you think you’re in the clear-

“don’t be sorry, just be ready.” jimin snaps and you feel your entire face flush bright red, “now get out. miss kang, can you move up to the front please?”

you’re not even bothered by the fact that you’ve just been replaced by seulgi

you’re more bothered by the fact that he just used his phrase on you

don’t be sorry

just be ready

don’t be sorry, just be ready  

that’s his phrase and he’s never once used it on you in the entire time that he’s taught you

he only uses that phrase when someone messes up really bad

and one thing you can say for sure is you very rarely mess up in class

he only uses that phrase when he’s angry!!!

“by the way, let this be an example to the rest of you, hm?” jimin paces up and down the front of the classroom slowly, everyone standing up as straight as pins as they look ahead, “every single one of you has been slacking immensely as of late and i won’t have it. the next person who shows up to my class wearing sweatpants and a dirty hoodie - well, i’m sure you’ll be comfortable out in the hallway. or maybe you’ll be comfortable not coming back to my class ever again.”

you lean over a little to peek over at jimin but quickly get back in line when he turns around

“miss y/l/n, i think i asked you to leave, did i not? i’m not going to ask you again.”

you jump when you feel seulgi tap on your shoulder from behind and she smirks at you in the mirror

“y-yes, mr. park.” your voice gives out halfway through and you turn on your heel to manoeuvre your way through the other girls to get to the door

“now that that’s been taken care of, this is what we’re going to do today…”

you shut the door behind you quietly

to say the least, that was…

humiliating!

sure, jimin’s always been a little (very) strict, but that was just plain mean

he yelled at you AND he kicked you out!

and you don’t think he’s ever been so harsh with any of the other girls before

you’ve seen him yell at the other girls but this felt more like a personal attack instead of criticism on dancing like it usually is  

and you always thought he liked your leg-warmers

:-(

…

uh-oh

it doesn’t take very long for your nose to prickle and your eyes to start welling up with tears

you sit down on the bench and your chin starts to tremble as you think about what just happened  

oh no

and now you’re going to cry?!

oh god

okay

no

no!

you can’t cry right now!

what if he comes out??

and sees you crying??

you cannOT cry in front of mr. park right now

the last time you cried in front of him was when you twisted your ankle but at least you had an excuse to cry because you were in physical pAIN

emotional pain is not the same as physical pain and therefore cannot be used as a legitimate excuse to start blubbering

you are not a cry-baby!!

your nose scrunches as you try your best not to let out a whimper and you blink quickly in an effort to make the tears go away but one single tear ends up rolling down your cheek

you reach up to swipe the back of your hand against your chin before putting your arms back down  

what are you supposed to do now?

you sniffle before leaning your head against the wall and crossing your arms

whatever

if you have to stay out here for the rest of class, you’re just going to take a nap and try noT to think about mean mr. park

                                                              ♡

“y/n… you feel someone shaking you gently and you shoot up from where you’re leaning against the wall

“wh- what-“ your voice is a little raspy from your sad-nap, “i wasn’t asleep-!”  

you relax a little when you see that it’s just lisa

you take a quick glance around to see that everyone’s packing their bags, so it’s safe to assume that class is done for the day

“mr. park wants to talk to you.” lisa whispers and glances back towards the classroom door, “by the way- you were a real idiot in there, you know that?”

“oh, god.” you reach up to pinch the bridge of your nose, “i know, i know! i don’t- i mean, i didn’t think he was going to kick me out-“

“hey, y/n! smooth move today-“ you’re cut off when suddenly seulgi pops up behind lisa and you can’t help but frown at how pleased she looks with these conditions, “thanks for handing your status as favourite student over to me on a silver platter!”

“can it, seulgi.” lisa scowls before shoving her gently

“the view was super great from the front.” she whistles, “mr. park is a lot hotter up close.”

you’ve never considered yourself to be a violent person, but…

you would give an arm and a leg just to strangle seulgi for a good five minutes <3  

lisa rolls her eyes and turns back to look at you, “good luck in there though, for real. you… you were real ballsy today.”

yikes

it takes you approximately one minute to muster up the courage to knock on the classroom door

you press your lips together tightly as your fist hovers over the surface of the door

just knock!

it’s not hard

just move your hand

you squeeze your eyes shut before tapping your knuckles against the door in three short beats

“come in.”

you swallow your nerves before pushing the handle down and opening the door slowly with a creak

okay

it’s fine!

you’re fine

class is over, which means mean mr. park is gone and nice boyfriend jimin is here, right?

…right??

you cautiously poke your head into the room

jimin’s busy packing up as well but his back is facing you which makes you feel a little better because if you’d opened the door and he was standing there staring directly at you, you probably would’ve immediately burst into tears

your poor sheep leg warmers are crumpled pathetically in the same spot where you tossed them

maybe you should just grab your leg warmers and run for the hills

“you… wanted to… see me?” you clear your throat and freeze when jimin turns his head to look over his shoulder

“yes, i did. shut the door and come here.”

okay, well

there goes your chance to run for the hills

you’re basically traPPEd in here now

you hesitantly shut the door behind you and you feel your heart starting to beat a little harder in your chest as you make your way over to the middle of the room

you keep your gaze downwards as jimin stands in front of you and you clasp your hands in front of you, twiddling your thumbs nervously

a moment of silence ticks by and you want nothing more than for the ground to cave and just swallow you up entirely

“you know why i had to do that, right?”

“because we’re… da…ting?” you offer weekly before lifting your head up to look at him

jimin scoffs before shaking his head, “no. you blatantly disrespected me in front of your peers, that’s why i kicked you out. your attitude today was completely unacceptable. completely.”

oop

okay

it appears that your theory about mean mr. park disappearing as soon as class ended was incorrect

to be fair… he is right

you have to admit that maybe you let the fact that you guys are dating cloud your judgement a little

obviously he’s not going to show you special treatment in class just because of that

you feel your insides twist when the realization sinks in that you were… kind of an asshole today

and you pride yourself on being a good student!

you immediately drop your head once more as your cheeks flush in shame, “yes, mr. park. i’m… i’m sorry for my poor behaviour today, sir. i disrespected you in your classroom and it won’t happen again.”

“it better not.” jimin nods, “apology accepted, miss y/l/n.”

you chew on the inside of your cheek anxiously

you’re not… too sure what you’re supposed to say now

you hear jimin let out a sigh before he speaks up again, “i’m… your boyfriend, which i know makes things a little confusing, but… you can’t act like that when we’re in class, y/n.” he hooks a finger under your chin before tilting your head up, “just because we’re dating doesn’t give you an excuse to act like a prick, baby.”

“i know. i’m sorry.” you respond meekly and nod in understanding

jimin’s eyes soften when he notices you starting to get teary-eyed

!!!!

now he’s starting to feel bad!!!

he’ll admit that maybe he was a little harsher than usual and it was probably a little more than embarrassing being called out like that in front of your peers, but he had to what he had to do!

you flicked your wrist at him!

and rolled your eyes!

double whammy!

“y/n…”

“i thought you liked my leg warmers.” you whimper quietly and jimin snorts in response

that’s what you’re getting upset about??

your leg warmers??

“why are you- why are you laughing??” you whine when he begins to giggle softly and you reach up to wipe at your falling tears (though now you can’t tell if they’re tears of sadness anymore because the sound of jimin’s giggling never fails to put you in a better mood), “you were the ones who chose these dumb sheep ones for me to wear today so h-how am i supposed to feel when you-“

“oh my god, you moron-” jimin immediately tugs you in for a hug and props his chin up on the top of your head, “i do like your leg warmers! they’re really cute!”

“that’s not how it seemed-” you sniffle as you bury your face into the crook of his neck and wrap your arms around him

“it was the only way i knew to show you that i was being serious!”

“you know how i feel about my leg warmers-!” you pull away with a pout and jimin quickly leans down to plant his lips against yours (mainly to shut you up about your leg warmers, but also to make u feel a little better)

he gives you a couple of sweet pecks before reaching up to cup your cheeks in his hands, “will pizza for dinner tonight make you forgive me for insulting your precious leg warmers, silly girl?” jimin hums as he wipes your tears away with his thumbs before leaning down to nudge his nose against yours affectionately

“…throw in some dessert and i’ll think about it.”

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

[marvelslut16]

Inseparable

Pairing: Reggie Mantle x reader

Synopsis: Reader and Reggie have been best friends since they were toddlers, nothing tearing them apart until Veronica their Junior year. This follows the rise and downfall of their friendship. Can they mend their friendship and be back to what they once were, will they be too hurt to fix their broken hearts, or will they finally admit their feelings for one another?

Word count: 2.6K+ (my hand slipped)

Warnings: Mr. Honey; he’s the worst villain to ever enter Riverdale, you can’t change my mind. Mentions of child abuse, nothing graphic past the mention of a black eye. Some angst. Spoilers for s4e4 technically, I still can’t believe what Mr. Honey did. 

A/N: I have like 11 requests I still have to get to, yikes. I swear I’ll do them soon, but inspiration hit and I ended up writing this. there isn’t enough Reggie love on Tumblr, plus I have a tiny crush on Charles Melton, so writing this was a win win. let me know what you think, and if I should write more for Riverdale. Veggie is better than Varchie (don’t come for me), but I still think Reggie deserves better than Ronnie. 

Growing up in a small town like Riverdale there weren’t too many kids to become friends with, but when you met Reggie Mantle on your first day of preschool you knew he would be your best friend for life. Archie was showing off on the playground by walking up the slide when the teacher wasn’t looking. The problem then being that Archie's foot slipped right as you were walking passed the bottom of the slide, and he slid down and ended up knocking you on the ground. You started to cry because he scraped your arm bad enough that it started to bleed. Reggie, whom you shared a table with in class, watched from the sidelines as your teacher helped you up and took you to the nurse, he got his revenge during arts and crafts later that day- ‘accidentally’ spilling red paint all over the front of Archie’s khaki pants. When Reggie made it to the table you quietly thanked him and shared your paint with him since the teacher said he couldn’t have new paint as a lesson to be more careful next time. 

As the years went on, yours and Reggie’s friendship only grew until you were inseparable; you two went on family vacations together, you went to every single one of his junior bulldog football games from the ages of eight to twelve, he went to your ballet recitals when you took classes in grade school even bringing you roses. Reggie was your rock at your grandmother’s funeral, you helped him pass his geometry class Sophomore year so he could stay on the football team, and you were the only person that he opened up to about his father’s abuse- having witnessed it with your own eyes a handful of times. 

Your mom was convinced you and Reggie would fall in love and get married one day, and your father was convinced your friendship would crumble and ultimately go down in a blazing fire. Going into your senior year you hate to admit that your father was right, his words bouncing around in your skull every time your brain shut off for longer than two seconds. Veronica Lodge moved to town Sophomore year, enticing every boy within a fifty mile radius with her upper East side charm. Reggie didn’t fall for Veronica right away, he fell for her junior year when he was helping her with La Bonne Nuit. And as cliche as it is, that’s when you realized you were in love with him, you had been for a while. The small nagging voice in the back of your head told you that it had been since that day in preschool. 

But you would grin and bear the pain, the soul crushing pain, if it meant that Reggie would still be in your life. And you did, for a while at least; until Reggie stopped calling and texting you back, until he stopped begging you to come to his games, until he stopped sneaking into your room every friday night after a game to go over the play footage where you would help him come up with new plays and tweaks to the old ones, until he started ignoring you in the halls in favor of making out with Veronica. You never hated the girl, she had been nothing but nice to you anytime you would interact, but God, you just wished she would disappear and give you your Reggie back. 

You resented Veronica, leading your interactions with the girl to be more tense and your answers clipped, and that was what led to the blazing fire your father talked about. Reggie offered you a ride home one day after school, and of course you jumped at the opportunity to spend time with him again. Instead of going to pops and talking like you thought you would, the two of you got into your biggest, and last, fight ever. 

It started with Reggie asking why you hated Veronica, where you defended yourself and swore that you didn’t. But he wouldn’t believe a word that came out of your mouth, continuing to press you as you two kept driving. The closer you got to the edge of town the worse the fighting got, your voice raising along with his. You accuse him of abandoning his friends, abandoning you, to be with Veronica all the time. He gets mad that you don’t understand why he’s with her all the time, claiming that you couldn’t understand not when you’ve never had a boyfriend. Something that he’s the reason for, since he scared all of the guys even remotely interested in you away with just one piercing glare or one lowly growled threat. 

The comment picking on your relationship status, or lack thereof, is the straw that broke the camel's back. You let loose just as you pass the sign thanking you for visiting Riverdale, the town with pep. Pep your ass, the small town is full of death and endless heartache wherever you look. You rip into Reggie, letting the hurt take over as you scream and scream at him-calling him a terrible friend. He finally screams back, claiming that you’re worse because you hate his girlfriend. He has to pull his precious car over, the car you helped him pick out when he turned sixteen, because he started swerving when you two got into a screaming match. 

The interaction ends with you getting out of the car on the side of the road leading into Greendale, slamming the car door behind you, knowing that he’ll get mad with how aggressive you’re being with his baby, his Bella. He does a sharp U-turn driving beside you, trying to coax you into getting back in the car with him. But you can’t do that, you can’t face him right now. So as you watch the taillights of the gun metal grey Chevelle disappear around the curve in the road you finally let the tears fall down your face, they stream harder and faster the closer you get to reentering the town with pep. 

Reggie had dropped your backpack off at your house when he got back into town, so it was sitting there waiting for you in your living room alongside your worried mother. You cried into her arms that night for hours, until you were all cried out, not caring that you look like a big baby. You had just lost Reggie, you had just lost your everything. You hadn’t talked to him since that day in the middle of your junior year, even after him and Veronica broke up and she went back to Archie like always. The days of your senior year seemed to fly by, October coming in what felt like mere days as opposed to months, and your last Halloween in Riverdale is today. 

You and Reggie would always wear matching costumes to trick or treat, and school just for fun as you got older, this always prompted your classmates to wonder if you two were finally dating. But that wouldn’t be happening this year, for the first time ever. You had even dressed up and sat on his porch in costume when you were six, handing out candy to the other kids so you could talk to Reggie, who was in costume too, through the window because he was sick with a 102.2 degree fever. You were dressed as Kim and Ron that year, his mom had even crocheted him a little Rufus to stick in his pocket. You couldn’t wait to get out of this town, away from Reggie, away from the places where you would see ghosts of your younger selves everywhere you went. 

Kevin calls you freaking out after he and Reggie got caught tp’ing Mr. Honey’s office. Kevin caved after Mr. Honey threatened to make sure he wouldn’t get into NYU if he didn’t. Kevin felt guilty for his actions, and even though you hadn’t talked to Reggie in close to a year you were worried about him. Worried what his dad might do to him when he hears he got in trouble at school again, and worried what the unhinged Mr. Honey might do to him himself. 

You don’t hear anything from Reggie the next day, not that you really expect to. You more-so hope he’ll call you, but you know what they say about hope- it breeds eternal misery. The day goes by at a snail's pace as you stare at your phone throughout the entirety of said day. You finally curl in on yourself and go to sleep after midnight, however sleep doesn’t stay for long. You’re awoken around two in the morning from your phone’s incessant ringing, in your dazed stupor you don’t realize it’s Reggie’s special ringtone- the bulldog cheer from Kim Possible. 

“Hello?” you ask hoarsely, making sure to stay quiet so your parents won’t hear. 

“(Y/N/N), can you talk?” your startled to hear Reggie’s voice on the other line. It sounds scratchy, like he was recently in a screaming match with someone. You open your eyes for the first time, finally accepting that you won’t be able to just roll over and slip back into your dreams. You glance at the alarm clock on your bedside table and your eyes widen at the time.

“It’s like two in the morning Reg,” you sigh, hoping he’ll wait till morning. 

“Can I come over?” Reggie’s pleading now.

“Later, we can go to Pop’s for lunch or something,” you yawn loudly into the phone in protest. 

“I’m already here,” before you can respond the line goes dead.

You can hear quiet, almost not there, footsteps outside your window as Reggie expertly navigates his way through the flowers and bushes outside your window. He taps on the window three times in quick succession, your old signal for when he would sneak over letting you know it was him at your window. You reluctantly get out of your warm cozy bed, stumbling to the window to open it for your former best friend. 

Your plans for just slipping back into bed anf hopefully nodding off while he talks go out the window as you come face to face with Reggie’s swollen face. He has a split lip and a black eye, you’re sure he has belt marks on his back too. You don't care that Reggie is climbing through the window a little too loudly, your sole focus now on fixing him up. Once he’s in the room you sneak to the kitchen and quietly grab an ice pack, stopping in the bathroom to grab rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, and ibuprofen.  

You hand him the pain reliever and your bottle of water, it’s not the first time you’ve shared, as soon as you shut your bedroom door behind you. He swallows the pills down with ease, and you both settle on your bed, a sad depressing routine. You don’t say anything as you clean his split lip, he winces slightly when the alcohol drenched cotton ball makes contact with his open wound. 

“Mr. Honey caught Kevin and I last night,” Reggie admits quietly. 

“I heard, Kevin told me,” you murmur unsure of where this conversation is headed, so you continue to dab at his lip.

“Mr Honey, he said that no one takes me seriously, no one since you. He said that he heard around school that I made my ‘persona’ bigger, became more of a prankster, after I lost you. He-he knew about my dad, (Y/N),” Reggie’s voice cracks, you can’t imagine what he must be feeling right now. “Said people at school are laughing at me, worst of all, you’re laughing at me.”

“Oh sweetie, no!” you're quick to jump in and defend. “I would never laugh at you, you know that. Never. No one else is either, he was just saying that to get a rise out of you.” Your arm moves without your permission, you push a strand of black hair out of his eyes before caressing his cheek softly. 

“He tp’d my car, that I get. That was actually funny,” Reggie hisses, you aren’t sure if it’s because you’re lightly pressing the ice pack to his shiner or because of what he’s about to say next. “But he broke Bella’s windshield, shattered her passenger side window, and busted her left headlight.” 

“I’ll kill him!” you jump up from your spot on your bed, no longer caring if you wake your parents. Reggie holds the ice pack to his eye with his right hand, cautiously reaching for your hands with his left. You calm down when his fingers intertwine with yours, sinking back down next to him. 

“I avoided going home all day, but when I did and my dad saw the car,” Reggie takes in a shaky breath, and you rub the back of his hand with your thumb. “He did, well he did this.” He uses your joined hands to gesture towards his face. 

You don’t say anything, instead just pulling him in for a hug. Reggie tenses at first before melting into your warm embrace. You pull him down onto the bed with you so you're laying side by side, he rests his head on your chest as you tuck the two of you in. 

“I know we haven’t talked in a while,” you let out dissatisfied hum as you card your fingers soothingly through his hair. “But you're the only person I wanted to see, the only person I ever want to see. It’s been torture without you (Y/N).”

“It doesn’t seem like it,” you say under your breath, but he hears you clearly with his ear pressed to your chest. 

“I was an idiot, I let my ego keep me from you,” he moves his head to look up at you, his brown eyes shine with sincerity. 

“Don’t do this right now Reggie,: your eyes fill with tears, “Don’t do or say anything you don’t mean just to make me feel better.”

Reggie moves his right arm from around your waist to brush away a stray tear that slipped out of your eye. He moves his thumb down your cheek to your lips, tracing them with the pad of his thumb. Reggie lightly tugs down on your lower lip causing you to uncage it from your teeth, when did you even bite it in the first place? 

“I love you (Y/N), I always have,” he looks away from your mouth so he can stare into your eyes. “And I think you have too.”

“I have, I love you so much Reggie,” he pulls your face down to meet him. The kiss is searing, and a little wet due to the tears leaking out of both of your eyes, but it’s perfect. You pull back when you get the slightly tangy taste of blood on your tongue. You immediately fuss over Reggie’s lip, said lip splitting again during the makeout. Reggie pulls you back down onto the bed and into his arms after you’ve dabbed at his lip with the cotton ball again. 

“How can I make it up to you?” his eyes shine with unshed tears as he stares lovingly at your face, almost like he’s mesmerized by you. “Not just tonight, but leaving you for Ronnie so I could try to get over you, and for every other night you’ve taken care of me.”

“Just never leave me again,” you whimper, which is cut off when he kisses you again. 

“Never,” Reggie’s never been more serious about anything in his life. 

You cuddle up to Reggie’s chest, his warmth and scent quickly lulling you into  a deep comforting sleep. You don’t care that he should sneak out the window and go home, or that your mom will find you two cuddled up in your twisted sheets when she comes to check on you at ten. All you care about is Reggie being safe, in your arms, and finally having him back in your life-but with one vast improvement to your relationship.

Permenent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen​ @rexorangecouny @mrs-malfoy-always​

[lebenspurpur]

MATCHUP PLEASE??? IVE LITERALLY BEEN WAITING FOR THIS. i'm sorry if this is very very rambly, im just excited. Ghost, he/they/xe/its, whoever but stirs towards more masc people, poly. I am a March Aries, born march 31st. I have two sides to me, overly loud/chaotic, and then the quiet side.... who is normally trying to plan how to fucking kill everyone or wishing i wasn't there. Anger issues to the max. My knuckles are scarred due to black outs because at school i bottle up my anger so i don't lash out and hurt someone, so i end up punching brick walls/trees. Which end up causing wounds on my knuckles/hands. I hate idiotic people, people who don't know how to stop being immature even when repeatedly being told countless times. I have quite literally stabbed someone in the arm because I asked her about ten times to stop laughing and staring at me. Very bad anxiety, so I normally bottle everything up until I hit a breaking point. This point could be me either having an anger fit(ex, punching shit, yelling, just in a angry mood), or have a silent breakdown(ex, where i shut everyone out, go nonverbal for a hot minute, and ignore everyone). I love natures and animals, both literally deserve to be treated better than they are. Half of the animals now days wouldn't act aggressive towards us if we have left them alone. I heavily believe that animals deserve the world. I listen to music 24 fucking 7. I cannot live without it, I have quite literally had breakdowns because I didn't have something to listen to music with. I listen to a lot of rock/metal genre type music, but my music taste is all over the place. I do NOT like country music minus a few songs, and all of them are the older songs. Famous Last Words, SlipKnot, KoRn, Get Scared, Hollywood Undead, Guns N' Roses, Queen, Falling In Reverse, Black Viel Brides, the list goes on. Weird facts/facts/extra, basically me just rambling; I love collecting. Animal bones, tapestry's, blankets, rocks, crystals, sticks, literally anything. I love dancing in the rain, even if its lighting and thundering. Huge anything horror/weird type of person. I love weird shit and gore. Like even if I'm cringing at it, I'm like "holy shit this is fun to watch" I kinda believe in zodiac signs? Like they make who you are but I'm not the type of person where it controls every little thing about you. Very very awkward in person, and I have anxiety. I love talking though, if I know/trust you please expect your ear to be talked off if you even remotely bring up a topic I love. Artist!! I have like 5 filled sketchbooks. I love writing as well, although I'm not really good at it. I love walks, especially if its quiet and in nature. I just get irritated if the people im walking with are constantly talking. LEMME KNOW IF U NEED MOREE

Here you go, dude. No need to pester anymore. >:)

Just a reminder that I don't take matchup requests anymore, I am just answering them!!!

🎰🎰🎰🎰🎰🎰🎰🎰🎰🎰🎰🎰🎰🎰🎰🎰🎰🎰

🧢Bo Sinclair🧢

"I have two sides to me, overly loud/chaotic, and then the quiet side.... who is normally trying to plan how to fucking kill everyone or wishing I wasn't there."

Bo relates heavily to that. His usual self is rather loud and annoying and he knows that. However, there's a lot of tranquility in him whenever he needs to seriously focus. He has his town and brothers to protect. He definitely understands this point of you and it fills him with relief. He hasn't met many people, well he hasn't met anyone at all, who feels the same way he does.

"Anger issues to the max. My knuckles are scarred due to blackouts because at school I bottle up my anger so I don't lash out and hurt someone, so I end up punching brick walls/trees. Which end up causing wounds on my knuckles/hands."

Oh, he understands that. During his time in school, he faced thousands of such accidents that often left his classmates scarred and bruised and he won't tell you that, but it wasn't even his intention. He did not want to hurt him, yet the internal pain he felt at that time was simply too much. He couldn't take it. He still hasn't faced his anger issues. They often ruin good "hunts" because his emotions cross with his strategical, rational thinking and he hates it.

"I hate idiotic people, people who don't know how to stop being immature even when repeatedly being told countless times. I have quite literally stabbed someone in the arm because I asked her about ten times to stop laughing and staring at me."

I can hear Bo laughing about that story from here. But yeah, he feels the same. Bo has general hate for everyone he deems idiotic which is everyone really so he agrees to that.

"I listen to music 24 fucking 7. I cannot live without it, I have quite literally had breakdowns because I didn't have something to listen to music with. I listen to a lot of rock/metal genre-type music, but my music taste is all over the place. I do NOT like country music minus a few songs, and all of them are the older songs."

Same with Bo, he can not live without his music. He always has it playing in the background, be it during a nasty process of torturing or simply while he works on his cars. Just a warning: He will play country music to annoy the shit out of you. But he himself, prefers hard rock and punk rock, too, so it's not a regular occurrence.

"Famous Last Words, SlipKnot, KoRn, Get Scared, Hollywood Undead, Guns N' Roses, Queen, Falling In Reverse, Black Viel Brides, the list goes on."

You listen to a lot of stuff, he used to listen to as a teen so he does have quite the knowledge. Nowadays he's circling more and more to the classics: ACDC, Marylin Manson, Black Sabbath, maybe even a bit of Slayer, and so on.

"Huge anything horror/weird type of person. I love weird shit and gore. Like even if I'm cringing at it, I'm like "holy shit this is fun to watch"

Bo fucking loves that. I don't think he watches a lot of horror, simply because he doesn't have any movies at home, but he does enjoy some good gore. Something he absolutely doesn't like are squeamish people. He thinks people who can't stand gore are pussies so Uhm, he does appreciate your open mind.

"I love walks, especially if it's quiet and in nature. I just get irritated if the people I'm walking with are constantly talking."

Surprising, but Bo loves walks as well. He will talk though. Just drown him out, really, he just likes to vent about his day during times like this, encased by quiet woods that'll never spill any of the secrets he's so carelessly letting out.

🪁Rufus T. Firefly🪁

Impossible to find a gif from this man, Jesus.

"Very bad anxiety, so I normally bottle everything up until I hit a breaking point. This point could be me either having an anger fit(ex, punching shit, yelling, just in an angry mood), or have a silent breakdown(ex, where I shut everyone out, go nonverbal for a hot minute, and ignore everyone)."

Rufus doesn't look the type but he definitely understands that. He too gets anxious a lot. How could he not, with this family? He's there for you, whether it be to listen to you vent or let you cry into his shoulder.

"I love natures and animals, both literally deserve to be treated better than they are. Half of the animals nowadays wouldn't act aggressively towards us if we have left them alone. I heavily believe that animals deserve the world."

He'd never openly admit this but he agree. As someone who eats meat and also kills animals, he tries his best to treat them at least with a bit of respect, not like his brother would. Otis has less empathy for smaller beings like animals than Rufus.

"I love collecting. Animal bones, tapestry's, blankets, rocks, crystals, sticks, literally anything."

Rufus does that as well! Though, he mostly focuses on bones. and not just animal bones. He likes to make little stuff out of them, maybe even carve something into them. He'll likely gift you some of his creations every now and then.

"I love dancing in the rain, even if its storming and thundering."

The first time he sees you outside he just scoffs and grins softly. You look adorable like that. He quickly joins you, wrapping his jacket around you so you don't fucking freeze to death. It will take years to convince him to dance but god, after you've convinced him, he fucking loves it. (pls tell me you want a fic with this I want to write this now.)

"I kinda believe in zodiac signs? Like they make who you are but I'm not the type of person where it controls every little thing about you."

He really doesn't believe in it and he loves arguing about it. If you're comfortable enough with mindless bickering, he could spend the whole day doing it. Baby finds it extremely amusing, and Otis fucking hates it.

"Very very awkward in person, and I have anxiety. I love talking though, if I know/trust you please expect your ear to be talked off if you even remotely bring up a topic I love."

Like I said before, Rufus absolutely understands that. And he's like a giant teddy bear. If you want to calm down by just rambling while he holds you, that is fine by him. That man is touch starved anyway. And he finds your random talks endearing, he really does. Rufus is not the biggest talker so he adores if he can just listen to you.

"Artist!! I have like 5 filled sketchbooks. I love writing as well, although I'm not really good at it."

he has never drawn anything and he doubts he'd be good at it. He prefers to work with wood or bones, so his subject's more carving and that kind of stuff. He does like to watch you draw though. And if you draw him, he melts. Obviously, he doesn't show it. But every drawing you give him, he keeps in his drawer, safely tucked away from his nosy siblings.

HOPE YOU LIKE IT AAAA!!

[creacherkeeper]

happy sleepover saturday luka!!! all even numbers for the dnd asks go tf off bestie!!! (maxwell for character q's) :)))

omg thank u my boy

(dm)

2. What is your NPC creation like?

i mostly create npcs to fill a needed role in the story, decide on some basic traits that fits or contradicts that roll, and then they flesh themselves out from there. my npcs tend to get a mind of their own very quickly so i have to do very little work

4. What's your favorite part of DMing?

creating characters or lore or scenes to Target Players i just love knowing whats going to drive them insane and then doing that on purpose as much as possible

6. Plot or character focused?

as a dm, very plot focused tbh. but i like to, as much as i can, create my plot around the pcs and players. lost has become more character driven because of choices the players have made and scenes they want to run

8. Do you prefer world or character creation?

for lost, ive actually been enjoying both fairly equally? im usually such a character bitch but making the world FOR the players & pcs and coming up with lore that will be interesting to them and tailoring it all to a wild west setting has been really fun and interesting. and my players have already started making secondary characters to explore and flesh out the world more so i guess its working!!!

(player)

10. How do you come up with characters?

i am VERY mechanics driven when it comes to pcs. i usually come up with class/subclass/multiclass first, then as i build the sheet try to figure out what kind of person they are based on the mechanical choices im making. personality and backstory usually come from that, but sometimes i do start with a basic concept or theme. i knew erley was a cowboy paladin, bo was going to be a ranger at a national park, and maxwell was an adhd mad scientist. but for example i decided that my new short shot character solare is very [redacted] because he has a +20 in [redacted]

12. What's your favorite part of playing DND?

when the other players are all really invested in the story and each others characters. like yeah we made all this up and we care so much!!! fuck yes!!! love getting emo about our little guys

14. Do you like to player characters with family?

i do!!!! i did notice a trend in my main game pcs of Only Children With MessyTM Relationships With Their Parents and we simply. arent going to examine that <3

16. Do you have any archetypes you tend to play?

not really? ive played a freakish amount of pcs at this point so they tend to be all over the place. i do love a Sad Boi tho <3

18. Do you prep for sessions?

daydreaming :))))) but thats it

(for maxwell)

20. Is your character religious?

he is!!!! he's a follower of burnlow, the god of fire, lightning, creation, and destruction. he truly does believe himself to be gods specialist little boy <3 im still trying to decide how/why he became a cleric though, waiting for my dm to help me flesh that out :) (i also decided the erley curse CANNOT continue so i gave max a +13 to religion)

22. How do they feel about the rest of the party?

he hasn't met them yet! but i do imagine it's going to be like "hello i am your new annoying gay best friend and you are Stuck with me as i have imprinted on you like a baby duck". maxwell doesnt really. have boundaries. he might have to work on those <3

24. If they were the god of anything, what would they be the god of?

self-expression

26. What kind of music would they like?

tbh prob like heavy metal and screamo. he would love welcome to the jungle by guns n roses

28. What would they do if they were betrayed?

smash everything with his big hammer <3 bonk

30. What are their thoughts on justice? (highly specific now)

that bad people get whats coming to them and most people are bad people which is why the world is so fucked up and violent

32. If they were on GBBO, what kind of contestant would they be?

would burn literally everything he baked either on purpose bc he claims it tastes better that way or because he was talking to the hosts or other contestants and forgot to set a timer. he would be kicked out very early but would be a meme-ified fan favorite

34. What would their thoughts on the fall of Rome be?

that empires deserve to fall and things would be better if everyone just kept each other in check

[unbridgeabledistances]

I love your last fic so much it got me thinking could you write something about like the gallaghers( +Kev and v and sandy etc) observing Ian and Mickey’s relationship? Like their perspectives of seeing them be soft with each other and just their dynamic? I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense lol <3

hiiiii anon!<3 okay i want to start off by saying that this got WAY too long, bc i loved this prompt a lot- so much that i think i might make this a multi-part thing on ao3! i started with sandy (since i am in love with her) but i’ll also go through the gallaghers/kev & v soon- lmk if u guys want me to continue, and who u would want me to write next if i do (or if u want me to continue with sandy lol i have lots of thoughts and feelings)

this ended up taking place in s10 when we first meet sandy, fyi:) also tw for brief mentions of abuse (as always, bc of terry 🙄) -- and there is a reference to the line in 10x07 that jokes about mickey and sandy for a brief moment

--

When Sandy heard her phone buzz on that Tuesday afternoon, sitting on the stained and lumpy couch in her shithead uncle’s living room while drinking a beer and arguing with Alek about what type of insurance fraud could make the biggest payout, she had no idea what to expect on the other end of the line. The phone kept ringing, the contact info lighting up the screen: MICKEY.

Mickey? Shit. It had been a long fucking time. Between her own various juvie stints as a kid and Mickey’s time behind bars overlapping just as she got released, Sandy hadn’t seen Mickey since… high school, maybe? Whenever it was, it was back when Mickey was a grimy kid with spikey hair and dirty fingernails, a kid with an obsession with guns and way too much time on his hands, back when they would hang out by the train tracks and drink beer and get way too high and do stupid shit; all in all, back when everything was a hell of a lot simpler. Sandy assumed Mickey had met Royal and been clued in about her shitshow of a life at some point while she’d been gone, and they’d possibly overlapped at a family party or two a few years ago when they both were in town— but other than hearing about the aftershocks of Mickey coming out and driving Terry up a goddamn wall, so much so that Terry broke his parole and was headed straight back to prison hours after his release, Sandy hadn’t seen Mickey in forever.

Which is why this call intrigued her so much— Mickey was supposed to be in prison for at least a couple more years, or at least that’s what his brothers had said, so why the fuck was he using a cell phone right now?

Sandy nodded her head towards the cellphone, cutting Alek off mid-sentence and sliding her thumb across the screen to pick up the call. Before saying anything, she rose off the creaky springs of the couch and speedwalked out to the front porch before answering— whatever the fuck Mickey wanted, she assumed he was calling her because this conversation wasn’t for the ears of any other Milkoviches. She lit a cigarette and leaned against the post of the front stoop, listening to the silence hanging heavy on her phone’s speaker.

“Mickey? You there?”

A low chuckle came from the other end of the line.

“Fuck. Been a long time.” Mickey’s voice sounded the same; punchy and snarky, maybe a little gruffer and raspier after years of cigarette smoke. Sandy waited a moment for Mickey to give more of a reply, or an explanation for his call, but it was clear that Mickey wasn’t going to give one right away— it was like he was testing the waters, like he was deciding if making this call was the right move. Soft static echoed on the phone line.

Sandy totally got it— reemerging from a life of cinderblock cell walls and barbed wire fences fucking sucked, especially when you were a Milkovich and the moment you got out you were faced with a choice, an opportunity: did you want to go back home, or did you want to start fresh, erase your own name, and forget this dysfunctional family ever existed? Sandy knew she felt the same way when she got out. Mickey deciding to call Sandy was a big fucking move, and she realized that— reclaiming your life as a Milkovich on the brink of a new beginning took guts.

“So, I take it you’re out of prison?” Sandy asked after a moment, inhaling another slow puff of her cigarette.

There was that laugh again— Sandy had weirdly missed it. Honestly, Mickey hadn’t ever been too bad to be around— they’d both felt like outsiders in the family, had both always had a strong head on their shoulders and a fucking moral compass, unlike the rest of Terry’s sheep who did his bidding and got swastikas tattooed on their chest. When he was younger Mickey used to follow Terry and his older brothers around like a lost puppy, and he even got those fucking knuckle tats—but later in high school, Sandy remembered seeing something deep snap inside him, bleeding out in “STAY THE FUCK OUT” and “FUCK LOVE” signs taped onto his bedroom walls. At the time she thought it was the fucked-up shit with Terry and Mandy driving him up a wall— but now she realized the constant bombardment of homophobia, coupled with the cuts and bruises blooming on his cheeks and the cigarette burn scars on his arms, must have been signs of Mickey realizing the rude awakening that was inevitably going to come if he wanted to be who he was. Sandy couldn’t even imagine— no one really gave a shit who she fucked, and her cousins didn’t know anything about her sex life—but she couldn’t fathom being Terry’s son, the pride and joy of the Milkovich clan, and needing to outwardly admit those deeper parts of herself.

“Yup, I’m free to join civilization as of this morning. Overcrowding or some shit.” Sandy could hear Mickey also taking a drag of a cigarette on the other end of the line. She smirked to herself. Guess we both didn’t break the Milkovich nicotine addiction.

“So, uh, listen,” Mickey continued, and Sandy immediately knew he was in deep shit if she was the one he was calling to ask for a favor. “I’m in a bit of a… situation. Don’t wanna go into too many specifics, but there might be a massive fucking Mexican cartel after me right now.”

Sandy barked out a laugh before she could help herself. Fucking Mickey. “Oh yeah? Sounds like you’re feeling thrilled to be a free man again.”

Mickey chuckled again. “Fuck you. But hey, d’you think you can bring my shit by to me, so I don’t have to stop by the house and get fucking killed? You don’t gotta rush or whatever, just didn’t wanna show my face quite yet.”

Sandy could feel all the unsaid things wrapped in the way Mickey’s sentence ended. Didn’t want to show his face quite yet because of this cartel bullshit, or because of Terry? She decided it didn’t really matter— Mickey was a good guy, she could spend an hour or so rounding up his shit and bringing it to him if that’s what he needed.

“Got it.” She blew out more smoke, watching it curl and drift over the wasteland of the front yard on a gust of summer air.

Mickey cleared his throat, like he was gearing up to say more. When he spoke, his voice was softer around the edges, more genuine than before.

“I’m, uh. I’m sure you heard everything about me while I was gone. About Terry flipping his shit. Probably not the best idea for me to come around the house quite yet—my brothers n’ I haven’t really talked much since then either.” He paused, inhaling another drag of his cigarette. “I figured you’d get it. And hey, if you can bring the stuff by, I’d love to hear all the badass shit you’ve been up to the past few years.”

Sandy nearly winced—yeah, if by “badass shit” you mean getting forcibly married to a douchebag and then couch surfing for months— but she tried to keep her shit together for Mickey’s sake. She stubbed out her cigarette on the railing of the porch, straightening from where she was leaning.

“I’ve got it Mickey, don’t worry about it. Where are you right now, anyways?”

She could hear the hint of relief bleeding into Mickey’s voice when he replied. “I’m at the Gallagher house? The grey one by the tracks.”

Sandy rolled her eyes. “I was in jail for a couple of years Mickey, not braindead. I know where the Gallagher house is.”

Mickey huffed out a breath, but there wasn’t any sharpness in it. “Excuse me for tryin’ to be helpful, smartass.”

“Why the fuck are you there, anyways?”

“I’m, uh, crashing with my partner for now. Ian?”

Holy shit, Mickey was still fucking Ian Gallagher? Sandy had pieced together that Ian was the reason Mickey came out months after getting married to some Russian bitch, and according to Iggy the whole reason Mickey went to jail in the first place was some love-crazed revenge plot on Ian’s behalf— but since getting locked up Mickey hadn’t kept in touch with anyone, other than a shady-as-fuck message to his brothers after he’d busted out of prison letting everyone know that he was in Mexico, despite getting thrown back into jail in Chicago a couple months later. Sandy didn’t really know the details, and she especially didn’t know anything about Mickey’s love life— but it was wild as fuck that someone as unsettled and ruthless and batshit crazy as Mickey could’ve been with the same person all this time, especially someone as seemingly bland as Ian Gallagher. Huh. Wonder if I’ll get to see Ian.

“Got it. I’ll round up your shit and bring it by the Gallagher house later today. And don’t worry, I won’t let anyone know you called til you’re ready.”

Mickey exhaled on the other end of the line. “There shouldn’t be much, just check the drawers or whatever. “

Sandy knew for a fact that most of Mickey’s lingering possessions had probably been taken, sold, or thrown out by a zealously homophobic Terry by now, but she wasn’t going to say as much to Mickey over the phone.

“I’m on it. See you in a couple hours.”

“Hey, Sandy?” Mickey blew out a long breath, and this time Sandy couldn’t tell if it was because he was still smoking or because he was riding a wave of relief, releasing the floodgates of anxiousness he’d been holding in the whole conversation. “Thanks. I fuckin’ owe you one.”

Sandy smirked. Maybe Mickey being let out of jail early was a good thing, despite how fucked his whole situation seemed— maybe, for once, someone in her family would be fun to be around, wouldn’t set her teeth on edge every two seconds by making a racist comment or forcing her to be something she wasn’t.

“I’ll text you when I’m almost at your love nest.”

She imagined Mickey’s grin as he replied. “Fuck you. See ya soon.”

**

After scraping through every rickety dresser drawer in Terry’s house for nearly an hour, Sandy could barely come up with anything that was reportedly Mickey’s: a couple of tattered shirts, an impressively overused-looking bong, and a single sneaker she’d left behind because she couldn’t find the other one. She threw it all in some shitty burlap rucksack she’d found on one of the bedroom floors, assuming no one would miss it— it dawned on her that maybe her cousins were lying, and some of the other stuff in the house was still Mickey’s, but she’d collected what she could based on the whispered directions Alek and Iggy had given her when Terry was out of the room.

Sandy unlocked her phone, and typed a quick message to Mickey. “Out front.”

Mickey’s reply came quickly, and Sandy noticed the front curtains rustling on the top floor of the Gallagher house.

“Coming down”

The front door creaked open, and Mickey walked out onto the front porch. He looked good; he looked cleaner, sure, but also like a fucking adult—like he’d grown into himself, like he actually carried himself with confidence instead of just pretending to. He nodded his chin up at Sandy in acknowledgement.

“Long time no see.” He smirked, leaning on the banister. “You make a good delivery service. All those hauls we did with Terry must’ve been good training.”

Sandy lazily walked up the front steps, reaching the bag out in front of her for Mickey to take. “Here’s all the shit I could find. It’s not much.”

Mickey jerked his head to the open door behind him. “You wanna come in for a sec?”

Sandy grinned. Why the fuck not. “Sure."

So that was how she found herself perched on what was presumably Ian Gallagher’s bed, watching Mickey ruffle through the burlap bag, his brows furrowed as he realized just how much of his shit was actually gone.

“This everything?”

“As much as I could find.”

They comfortably chatted back and forth about how everyone was— Sandy decided to divulge the fact that Mickey’s brothers were idiots who tried to crawl in bed with her every night, which is something that she had to joke about so she didn’t go fucking insane sleeping under the same roof as them.

“Fuck ‘em, chop their nuts off next time they try it.”

Sandy smirked. Finally, a decent fucking relative. She made some hollow joke about staying with Mickey, alluding to the extra-shitty night decades ago when their cousins had forced them to make out when they were way too high on something.

“Or I could stay here with you. Have fun like we did when we were kids.”

“You know that’s fucked up, right? We’re fucking cousins!”

“Plus he’s taken.” A voice came from around the corner.

Ian Gallagher looked bigger, taller, and more solid than Sandy remembered; he was definitely miles away from the scrawny kid with the bangs who worked at the Kash N Grab that Sandy and her cousins endlessly used to fuck with in middle school. Ian’s shoulders were wide, his body imposing in the tiny room; immediately, Mickey’s aggravated stance softened when Ian walked in, wrapped in a towel from the waist down.

“Oh right, you.” Sandy grinned as Ian hunched over the bed and grabbed his deodorant from the nightstand.

Mickey had turned back to the bag of clothes. “Hey, I had shampoo and shit, is there soap anywhere?”

Sandy rolled her eyes. “You’ve been gone for years, you think your brothers would save that shit for you?” she bit out— and okay, maybe she was a little pissed at Mickey’s brothers for the constant-sexual-assault thing.

Ian just applied his deodorant and leaned in close to Mickey as he passed by the bed towards the doorframe. “You can use mine. We’ll hit Costco later, I’m getting paid.”

It was stupid, but Sandy felt something soft pang in her chest at Ian’s words; it was just now that she was realizing it, but she didn’t think she’d ever seen someone take care of Mickey before, or so… automatically factor Mickey’s needs into a situation. Being a Milkovich was all about scrounging and scraping, and guarding what little you had; a Milkovich would never let someone use their fucking soap just because they cared about them, or not as an immediate reaction anyways.

“Nah, I can’t, man. PO texted me when you were in the shower, he’s got a job for me.”

Ian kept looking at Mickey from where he was leaning in the doorway. “Then give me a list of shit you need, and I’ll pick it up for you,” Ian said in an overly simple tone, like he was mocking the fact that Mickey didn’t realize Ian would run an errand for him.

Sandy smirked. Jesus, Gallagher is whipped.

“Isn’t that cute, little domestic bitches,” Sandy crooned before she could help herself.

Ian stepped into the room again and leaned in towards Mickey, pressing a kiss to Mickey’s cheek while Mickey aggressively tried to uncrumple one of the pile of shirts from the bag.

“Mm, thank you,” Ian said in reply, his voice muffling as he smushed his face closer to Mickey’s.

Mickey instantly smiled smugly as Ian’s lips pressed against his cheek—then he noticed Sandy was staring, so he flipped her off and smiled even wider. What the fuck? Sure, Mickey had flipped Sandy off, but he was practically fucking beaming in a way that Sandy had never seen. God, wonder if I’ll find this shit someday.

Ian detached himself from Mickey and walked out of the room, Mickey’s eyes lingering on his torso. Once Ian had turned the corner Mickey snapped back to attention, fixing his eyes back onto the small mountain of clothes spread on the bed in front of him. Mickey lifted the bong off the bedsheets, and met Sandy’s gaze. 

“You have to go, or d’you wanna hang for a bit? I don’t have to be at work for a couple hours, and it’s gonna suck enough that I should probably be high before I get there.”

Sandy grinned. “Hell yeah, I’m down.”

**

They sat on the rickety back steps of the Gallagher house, silently taking hits and passing the bong back and forth. It had been years since they’d been in the same space, but Sandy and Mickey easily sank into a comfortable silence, passively surrounded by the shrieks of kids playing across the alleyway and the bubbling of water as they inhaled. Mickey blew smoke out of his nose, then sat back so he was leaning against the banister and passed the glass pipe to Sandy.

“So,” Sandy started as she held the lighter to the bong and inhaled deeply. “Ian Gallagher.”

Mickey huffed out a laugh. “Yup. That’s some Romeo and Juliet shit for ya.”

Sandy smirked as she exhaled. “You really fucking love him, huh?”

Mickey eyebrows raised almost imperceptibly as he looked towards her. “Yeah. Guess I do.” He took the bong from Sandy’s outstretched hand. “Took me forever to get shit straight with him, though.”

Ah. So their road to domestic bliss wasn’t as straightforward as it seemed. Sandy’s curiosity was growing.

“Because of shit with Terry?”

Mickey stiffened, coughing a bit as he exhaled smoke, like Sandy’s question caught him off guard. “Shit. Yeah. That too. Let’s just say there were lots of fucking ups and downs, and we both had a lot of shit to unpack.”

Sandy snickered. “You sound like a fucking couples therapist.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “If you wanna see couples therapy, I should tell you about the months me and Ian were sharing a fucking cell. We nearly ripped each other’s heads off. We literally stabbed someone so one of us might get sent to fucking solitary.”

Sandy’s laughter grew. “Are you fucking serious?”

Mickey grinned, and passed the bong back to Sandy again. “Fuck. Yeah. I fucking love him, though. He’s fucking crazy, and I still can’t let him go.” Mickey looked off into the distance across the alleyway, and either the weed was really hitting him right now, or he was being a very sappy motherfucker.

Sandy nudged Mickey’s knee. “You guys are cute together.” Mickey’s eyebrows raised when he heard the word “cute,” and Sandy quickly tried to rephrase. “Not cute, but y’know. Good for each other. You seem happy. Happy is... good.”

Mickey nodded pensively. “How’re you doing, anyways?”

Sandy shrugged noncommittally. “Eh. We can talk about me another time. How the fuck did you and Ian end up sharing a jail cell, anyways?”

Mickey let out a throaty laugh. “I heard Gallagher was getting locked up when I was down south, so I essentially pulled some strings and fucking snitched on the cartel I was working for. Hauled my ass back up here so we could be together.”

Holy fuck. Sandy’s jaw nearly dropped. “Mickey, you’re batshit crazy.” She shoved him squarely in the chest this time. “Are you fucking serious?! You evaded the feds, were living in Mexico, and you came back for Ian Gallagher?”

Mickey rolled his eyes again, placing the bong on the steps. “I can’t explain it, man. I just didn’t wanna be anywhere else, I guess.”

Sandy leaned back onto the banister. “Shit.” She paused for a moment, wondering if she should ask the next question. “Do you… want me to tell anyone you’re back?”

Mickey glanced over at her, his eyes alert. “Nah. Not yet. That okay with you?”

Sandy nodded. “Of course.” Mickey pulled out his phone, checking the time and presumably looking for a distraction from tiptoeing around talking about Terry— but Sandy had to tell him, had to let him know one more thing.

“Hey, Mickey?”

Mickey looked up. “Yeah?”

“I don’t really know the details of what went down with Terry, or whatever— but I just wanted to let you know that… if you ever wanna come home, I’m on your side. No questions asked. And I think a lot of the others are, too.”

The corner of Mickey’s mouth ticked upward. “Thanks.”

Sandy stood, checking her phone and zipping her leather jacket. “Well, I’d probably let you sober up a bit before your big parolee first day of work.”

Mickey raised a middle finger up to her from where he was seated, but then rose to stand.

“Thanks for comin’ by. And hey—you’re free to crash here anytime. There’s a million fucking kids running around all the time, but there’s always a couch or something open if everyone at home’s giving you too much shit.”

Sandy felt something warm growing in her chest. It had been a long fucking time since someone offered to take care of her, just because they could, just because they wanted to— maybe being a Milkovich wasn’t half bad. Maybe there were some good ones.

Sandy nodded in acknowledgement, and turned to walk down the creaky back steps. Wow. If Sandy was sure of one thing right now, it was that Mickey really, really fucking loved Ian Gallagher.

[diaphragmjellyfish]

Miguel Diaz fluff alphabet

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Miguel loves your smile. He’s a funny guy and he thinks your smile lights up a room so he makes it his mission to make you laugh as much as possible. If you have some crooked teeth, he thinks it’s adorable. Also, looking at your smile makes him think about your lips which just makes him want to kiss you.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Yes, after he gets a stable job. He would love kids but he doesn’t want to be like his dad and end up abandoning his family so he would make extra sure he could support the child and you and makes a conscious effort to be there for his family no matter what. Asking about their day, being involved in their sports/clubs/hobbies, making snacks when they have friends over. He just wants to be the Cool Dad ™ and would probably try to teach them karate before they could even sit up.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

He loves to have you sit between his legs and lean back against his chest so he can wrap his arms around you and make sure you’re always safe and warm. It’s the perfect position for movies, video games, deep conversations, baths. He will also often come up behind you at a party and hold you like this if someone is hitting on you or if you look uncomfortable or bored. He can whisper little jokes in your ear or kiss you on the cheek.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

He loves fun dates. You both have always found fancy dinner dates really awkward. He likes something where you guys can move around, do activities, and just let loose. The go-to’s are usually mini golf, the arcade, the zoo, or just a nice picnic in the park. He often gets you little gifts before dates, though, like flowers, a stuffed animal, or a cool rock he found. His Yaya taught him never to show up for a date empty handed. And he’s a total gentleman, never making you uncomfortable or rushing things. Miguel keeps his hands to himself unless instructed otherwise.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…)

You are my sunshine. As cheesy as it is, Miguel sees you as the shining light in his life. You make everything better, whether that’s an injury, a bad day at school, or losing a fight at training. He knows he can always go to you and be distracted by your beautiful smile.

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

Miguel first knew he was in love with you when you met his family for the first time. They invited you over for dinner one night and he told you his Yaya didn’t speak much english, so you asked him to teach you some spanish so you could talk with her. It wasn’t perfect, you made lots of grammar mistakes and really only said a couple sentences to her, but the effort you made combined with the smile on Yaya’s face made him fall absolutely head-over-heels.

If you already speak spanish, it would be seeing you talk with his Yaya and joke around with her over dinner.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

The most gentle boy on the face of the Earth. Like I said earlier, Miguel keeps his hands to himself unless you tell him otherwise. The first time you guys kiss, he barely moves a muscle. You had to grab his hands and put them on your waist. Even now, when he’s teaching you karate, he refuses to hit or grab you, so you honestly don’t really learn anything lol and if you’re sick or sleeping, he’s like a feather, so scared to disturb you. It’s like touching a kitten honestly

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

All. The. Time. He’s not too big on PDA, except for hand-holding. This is how he lets everyone know you’re taken without seeming possessive or gross. Miguel will grab your hand at the mall, at school, while y’all are cuddling, at the beach, literally whenever you’re in arm’s reach from him, he’s holding your hand.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

Miguel’s first impression of you is that you’re this bright ray of sunshine. He’s drawn to you like a magnet. Your eyes, your smile, your laugh! And when he finally works up the nerve to say hi (Strike first!) he thinks his heart might actually melt. When you actually laugh at the joke he makes and hold out your hand to introduce yourself, he turns bright red and can barely speak omfg this poor boy. But luckily you think it’s sweet and keep talking to him.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

He did at first, we’ve all seen how he acts with Sam and Robby, but you lay down the law. You have to tell him that it’s not cool, it makes people uncomfy, and then he finally starts to work on it. Now he’s better. He still feels jealous sometimes, but he trusts you and can control himself a bit more.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

So your first kiss. You were giving him The Look for like 10 minutes straight and he never made a move. He just stared at you. So you had to be the first one to actually lean in, but once you did, he met you halfway. His kisses match his personality. Sweet, gentle, and goofy, but with a more dominant, aggressive side if you know how to bring it out ;)

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

He did. After you had dinner with his family and he realized he loved you, he told you almost immediately. This boy just wears his heart on his sleeve. He was walking you home and when you got to your house and turned around to kiss him goodnight, he had a funny look on his face. When you asked him what was wrong he kind of went ILOVEYOU! Really fast and you had to make him say it again slower because you thought he had a stroke or smth lmaooo but once he took a deep breath and said it more clearly, you jumped on him and kissed his whole face and said it back a hundred times.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

When he first introduced you to Sensei Lawrence. He thought Sensei was gonna be super mean and make fun of you, but turns out you guys had a lot in common. You loved 80’s rock music, and responded to his sass with even more sass. Johnny almost couldn’t believe Miguel was able to get such a cool babe. You guys all had lunch after taking a tour of the dojo, and it was a super fun day! You all drove around in Johnny’s car with the windows down listening to Guns ‘n Roses.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Miguel spoils you in his own little way. His family isn’t as fortunate as others, but he still finds ways to make you feel special. Instead of a diamond necklace, he gives you a cool rock he found outside and cleaned up. Instead of taking you to expensive restaurants, he spends all day cooking with Yaya to make a nice picnic for you guys to have on the beach. And he saves up to buy you nice gifts for your birthday or anniversary.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Rose gold. You’re so beautiful to him and have this natural charm that everyone falls for. You’re so radiant and yet soft and unique. He just love love loves you.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

Sweety, sweetheart, baby, gorgeous, and Princess during more intimate moments.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

80’s rock music. He learns to love it through Sensei Lawrence. He even saves up to buy a record player so he can feel more connected to the past.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Build blanket forts, cuddle, bake cookies, he might even let you put makeup on him if you ask nice.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Humor. He loves cracking jokes and lightening the mood. If you’re ever feeling down you know you can go to him and he will turn that frown upside down in mere minutes. Honestly even just being in his presence makes you happier. He cheers himself up by working out, taking some alone time to get his feelings out, and then going out with some friends or with you.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Umm, karate! Duh lol the boy is obsessed with it. Also superhero movies, video games, his day, he’s honestly kind of a rambler. He can talk about anything and everything if he’s nervous enough. Let’s not forget the gas station scene in season 1…

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

You, dark rooms, white noise, puppies, linen scented candles, his mom’s cooking.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

His new muscles. Ever since joining Cobra Kai, he’s gotten pretty ripped and now it’s a struggle to get him to keep his shirt on. He worked hard for that body, he wants people to see how good he looks!

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

After college, he takes you on a hike up to this ridge overlooking a lake. It’s fall, the leaves are changing colors, and there’s no one around. You guys have been holding hands the whole time, but his hand is super sweaty even though it’s like 50 degrees out. You guys finally get to the top of the ridge and he grabs both your hands and tells you all the things he loves about you. This boy basically recites your whole love story, and as soon as he sticks his hand in his pocket you know what’s going on. He barely even got the box out of his pocket before you were jumping on him screaming Yes! You guys fell to the ground and he stopped you so he could officially get the words out. You were both crying, it was very beautiful.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

More Than Words by Extreme. You guys dance to this at your wedding.

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Absolutely. Y’all marry pretty young, like right out of college. He knew you were gonna get married on the first date.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

Iguana. He thinks they’re like little dinosaurs! He would name it Wade because we know he loves Deadpool.

[saturnznct]

attack on titan!au, mark lee x reader

word count: 3.4k words

warnings: head injury, physical fighting (for training purposes), descriptions of death, mention of knives and cult

note: will be working through this series slowly! hope u all like this xx

nct dream aot au masterlist

The first time you laid eyes on Mark Lee was in that iconic dusty courtyard. Bearing in mind he was being ripped into by Commander Shadis.

‘And what about you, Lee?’

A twelve year old Mark Lee’s eyes shone with tears of fear. He was clearly somewhat sheltered from the horrors of this world; hailing from the town of Jinae, southern Wall Maria alongside fellow cadet Marco Bott. The two of them were the image of innocence, although they barely knew each other, both round-faced and freckly.

Mark had cowered beneath Shadis’ gaze, likely having never been spoken to in such a way, especially not by his loving family. You felt drawn to him. What was he doing here?

That night he barely said much, nibbling on stale bread. You could tell he did not want to eat, but food was scarce, so he kind of had to. He listened intently to the words of Eren Yaeger who spoke about his experiences with the Colossal Titan on that infamous day two years ago.

Days faded into weeks. You passed your own balance test with flying colours, as did Mark, who’s face would become screwed up whenever his feet left the ground.

While you formed a casual alliance with Sasha, promising to go easy on each other during combat training, Mark swapped anecdotes with Marco and sharpened his wooden knife with Reiner.

One day Commander Shadis had demanded you pair up with Mikasa (likely because he was sick of you and Sasha throwing fake punches) and you were so distracted by Mark that she easily flipped you over, an ‘oof’ escaping your mouth as you hit the ground. When your back makes contact with the sand, your head snaps back, hitting the ground hard.

‘Wait, I didn’t mean that,’ Mikasa mumbles, seemingly unsure as to what to do.

Everything goes pitch black for a split second. When your eyes do open, your head is spinning, black spots dotting the sky above you like stars. You hear Commander Shadis yelling for the first-aid specialist cadets.

Admittedly in that moment you had absolutely no clue who was part of that squad. At this point in your training years, you were especially focused on yourself, working on your own skills and specialities. But when Mark Lee comes barrelling across the training yard your heart nearly leaps out of your chest.

‘Are you alright?’ He asks you as soon as he kneels down beside you, ‘can you see?’

Mark sounds far more concerned and more urgent than you feel, which you find somewhat charming, but your head is still spinning.

‘Mark, remember the procedures,’ Thomas Wagner seems to be somewhat supervising him.

‘Oh, uh,’ Mark holds up three fingers and waves them around as if to confuse you a little, ‘how many fingers am I holding up?’

He’s peering over you, almost like a pet trying to get your attention. You feel your chest swell at how cute he looks.

You blink, trying to decide whether or not you should play up your injury for his attention or get up so you can continue training.

‘Three,’ you mutter, deciding that returning to combat training was worth more than gaining the sympathy of a cute boy.

Mark and Thomas exchange a look.

‘Do you think you can sit up?’ Mark asks, eyebrows furrowed together in concern.

‘I don’t know,’ you mumbled, ‘I’ll try…’

You prepare yourself to have to lift yourself off the dirty ground, but you jump about a mile in the air when he holds the back of your head in his hand, slowly supporting your head as you sat up.

‘I’m sorry, Y/N,’ Mikasa apologises quietly.

‘It’s okay,’ you croak, ‘it’s my fault.’

‘Come on Y/N, we’ll have to take you back to your dorm room to lay down,’ Thomas has a sharp tone of authority, so you don’t even try to argue.

‘Dude, she can’t even stand,’ Mark points out.

‘How about you carry her then,’ Thomas huffs, turning on his heel to deal with some other cadet’s grazed arm.

‘I-I-Is that okay?’ Mark stutters, hand still on the small of your back as he held you up.

You nod groggily, ‘it’s okay.’

And so he scoops you up in his arms, and you automatically cling onto his neck. Mark is incredibly gentle, hand under your leg splayed out as to not touch your thigh.

You’re sleepy at this point, so the walk back to your dorm house is slow.

Mark tilts you to the side to twist the doorknob, the door loudly creaking open.

‘Which bunk is yours?’

‘Right beside the window,’ you mumble, ‘bottom bunk.’

He walks you over slowly, almost as though you were a baby in his arms, before gently lowering you down into your bed.

‘Are you comfortable?’

You nod, shifting around under the duvet to try and get comfortable.

‘Good. I’ll send one of the girls in occasionally to check on you,’ he says, ‘I hope you feel better soon.’

And then he shuffles out, clicking the door shut as quietly as possible.

‘How’s your head?’

‘Huh?’

The cafeteria is relatively empty, it being late than the normal scheduled eating time. You had finished up with your cleaning duties a bit later than usual, hence why you were eating bread at nearly 10pm.

You had been interrupted by a certain Jinae resident.

‘Your head… have you been feeling better? I’ve been worried.’

‘You have?’ Your heart nearly skips a beat at the thought of him worrying about you, hoping that you’re alright, ‘I’m just fine Mark, all thanks to you.’

You don’t miss the way a pink blush creeps up his neck, and he avoids your gaze.

‘It’s what I’m trained to do,’ he brushes it off, ‘what kind of medic would I be if I couldn’t help?’

‘You’re incredibly selfless.’

‘Not really,’ Mark shrugs, ‘it’s the right thing to do.’

’Still selfless.’

He looks up at you then, trying to read your emotions.

‘I just mean that, in this world, people are selfish. People always care more about saving themselves than saving others. So you’re different, in that way.’

‘You think people care more about themselves than others?’

‘I-I saw a lot of things during the fall of Maria.. When my town was under attack, the titans had destroyed some of the houses, and there were people inside, who couldn’t get out. And they were shouting- screaming for someone to help them move the wood or the rubble but nobody listened. I told my dad to help them, obviously I couldn’t myself because I was only nine, but he didn’t. He told me that we had to leave ourselves, that we were responsible for ourselves. Now I know that those people died. They died because my father refused to help, because I was too weak. That’s most of the reason why I’m here, to help people if that were to happen again.’

‘I think your dad just cared about his family.’

‘In the refugee camps, I saw people steal food from other families, have knife fights over money and blankets. We were all in the same position, displaced and traumatised. I don’t know why people were so unwilling to help each other.’

‘Where are your family now?’ Mark asks innocently enough, but you feel your heart sink a bit.

‘My dad was sent out on the recapture mission, you know, when they tried to retake Wall Maria. He died.’

‘Oh I’m-‘ Mark looks at you with wide eyes, as if he had no idea how to react.

‘I don’t really feel any way about it,’ you admit, interrupting him, ‘he was comfortable letting those people trapped in the houses die terrified. I’m sure he had enough time to prepare himself for death before he left, and as he rode his horse out of Trost. I knew he was going to die when he said goodbye to me, and I was quite numb to it then too. My mother left me and my siblings alone in that camp and went to work in the interior to actually make money. I imagine she’s a prostitute or something. I don’t know. I don’t hear from her.’

‘Does she know you’re here?’

‘Maybe. My siblings may have told her. Anyway. Enough about me, what about you?’

‘My older brother is in the Military Police,’ Mark explains, ’the grand jewel of our family… I think my parents want me to follow in his footsteps. But I have no idea what I want to do yet.’

‘Do you think you’ll get in the top ten?’

‘Probably not. I’m not as fit or strong as Reiner, or even Annie. And I don’t have Armin’s brains or intellect. I’m kind of just in the middle.’

‘You have Eren’s will,’ you point out, ‘you care about helping people.’

‘You’re really comparing me to Eren?’ Mark chuckles.

‘I’m not saying you’re arrogant, just that you have the passion.’

‘I know. I just don’t think I have the passion for being a member of the Military Police. I don’t think they really help people as much as I want to.’

‘They’re very culty,’ you grimace, ‘so weird.’

Mark chuckles, ‘you’re not wrong. Every time I see my brother he’s walking around the interior with a huge gun, probably bullying some random kids.’

‘Do you know what regiment you want to go into?’ You ask.

‘I’m still weighing my options,’ he shrugs, ‘the Garrison always seemed like the easy route, just patrolling the streets and sitting around all day. But now they’re basically partners with the Survey Corps. If the walls get broken, they have to fight alongside each other. Either way, I’m fighting titans. It’s mainly just a decision of how often I want to.’

’Wall Rose hasn’t fallen,’ you point out, ‘it’s been nearly three years.’

‘As time goes on, it gets more likely,’ he remarks darkly, eyes fixed on the table, ‘by the sounds of it, this colossal titan seems intelligent. Who knows when it will decide to strike next. Our lecturer said that titan behaviour is incredibly unpredictable.’

‘Don’t you think we’ll be prepared enough to fight by then?’

‘It’s the Royal Government that comes up with the evacuation and fighting strategies. They care more about the preservation of the interior than those in the outer walls. They probably half-arsed the whole plan. As for our training, remember what Commander Shadis said on our first day. Most of us will just be titan feed in the end.’

‘You’re strong though, Mark,’ you state gently, as if he were sobbing and you were trying to console him.

‘You think so?’

‘I know you are. I watch you fight for future every single day.’

Mark stays silent, mulling over your words.

‘You really inspire me to try harder myself. And you’ll be an incredible soldier.’

When Mark continues to be silent, your eyes dart around the room. You catch the gaze of Sasha, who is stuffing her face with the tiny amount of leftovers.

She wiggles her eyebrows at you teasingly, before getting up and walking out of the cafeteria.

‘Nice one Y/N!’ Mark yells as you land a kick on Sasha’s shin, prompting her to fall to the floor clutching her leg.

‘Ow, Y/N!’ She shrieks, ‘I thought you said you would go easy on me!’

‘No titan will go easy on you, Braus,’ you hear Annie comment flatly.

Sasha huffs while Mark comes up behind you, gently turning you around by your elbow and giving you a high ten.

‘You’ve gotten so much better recently,’ Mark compliments, ‘I’m so proud of you!’

’Thanks Mark,’ you grin, trying to ignore the way your heart skips a beat by his words.

‘Yeah, nice going,’ Sasha grumbles, wiping down her now dusty thighs and shins, before turning on her heel and walking off to find Connie.

‘I still feel as though my fighting skills are a bit lacking to be honest,’ he confesses, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

‘Really? Who have you been practicing with?’

‘…Armin.’

‘Ah.’

‘Not to say that he’s weak or anything- he’s definitely not. There’s just a certain level you can get to where you just can’t improve anymore.’

No, I know what you mean,’ you try to empathise.

‘Maybe we can practice together? I-I mean, your usual partner is kind of… limping away, and I just think that you’re really great at this kind of stuff-‘

‘Mark,’ you giggle, reaching out and touching his shoulder, ‘it’s okay. We can fight. But just know, I’ll win.’

You take a few steps back as he laughs nervously. You drop your smile for a much more intimidating glare, raising your arms up.

‘Ready, Lee?’

Mark nods, awkwardly holding his own arms up to mirror your own.

You both stare at each other for a few seconds before either one of you strikes. You lunge forwards at him, swinging your right arm around his neck, to trap him in a headlock. He splutters in your ear, flailing his own limbs around in an attempt to wriggle out of your grip, but fails to do so when you throw out your leg and clip the side of his ankle with your foot, sending both of you to the ground.

He lands first, back impacting against the ground with a thud and a grunt from Mark.

You had imagined that he would let you go as he tumbled to the ground, but he doesn’t, clinging onto your arms and bringing you down with him.

A split second later, you’re also making contact with something, but not the ground. Your abdomens clash together, causing you to make an automatic ‘oof’ sound.

It takes you a while to adjust to the situation. You’re face to face, legs tangled together. There’s orange dust in Mark’s hair, sweat glistening on his forehead, eyes squinting while trying to get used to the sun, cheeks and nose red with the heat, lips-

There’s a few moments of silence, the two of you studying each others faces.

‘Ar-are you ok?’ You stammer, and for a few seconds he does not respond, still just staring at you.

‘Oh! I’ll get off,’ you shake your head, unraveling your twisted legs and clambering off of him, much to Mark’s silent disappointment.

‘Uh, you did good!’ You murmur, ‘just, um, try not to be caught off guard, next time.’

When you turn to walk away, you don’t fail to notice the way Krista and Mina are sitting on the steps of the watchtower, whispering frantically to each other.

You don’t see Mark for a few days after that. Training becomes infinitely more rigorous, since you were split into four groups and sent to different parts of the forest for field training.

You had spent several days trekking through the rain and snow with your backpack on, and afterwards spending a few days recuperating.

Mark was in a different group than you, hence why you did not see him. It feels weird that he’s not there, like there’s a part of you missing, but overall you somewhat enjoy your few days away.

It also gives you the perfect opportunity to completely forget about your weird moment during your fight, and focus on building relationships with other cadets.

‘You don’t think Marco is cute?’ Mina exclaims with wide eyes.

‘No, I mean he’s ok-‘

‘Just okay?’ Hannah Diamant replies, absolutely stunned at your indifference.

‘She only says so because she has her eyes on Lee,’ Sasha teases, sticking her tongue out when you turn to glare at her.

‘Do not!’ You argue.

‘Do too!’ Sasha is in fits of giggles, ‘and he clearly likes you too.’

‘I doubt it,’ you mumble, suddenly feeling quite embarrassed.

’Nah, he definitely likes you,’ Mina chimes in.

Unbeknownst to you, a certain blonde had been paying a bit of extra attention to your conversation.

Hence why you were here now, violently stabbing at your dinner with a fork, glaring holes into Krista Lenz’s back while she whispered to Mark Lee.

‘I thought she was going out with that Ymir girl?’ You don’t have a clue who’s speaking to you. Your brain is swimming with anger, so fuzzy you can hardly think straight.

When Krista goes to whisper in Mark’s ear again, she places a hand on his shoulder, after which you’re plotting ways in which you could cut her fingers off.

’I wouldn’t worry,’ Sasha shrugs, ‘we know, and I mean we all know he’s in love with you.’

‘Even if you’re right, which you are not, I’m not her.’

‘Don’t be so worried you idiot,’ Mina half snaps half chuckles, ‘you’re gorgeous. And a total catch, obviously. Mark Lee would be dumb to not want you.’

Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap.

‘What the actual fuck,’ you mutter, sitting straight up in your bottom bunk bed, coming centimetres from smacking your head.

You whip your head in the direction of the source of the noise.

And there he stands, Mark Lee, in the purple night at your window.

‘What the hell?’ You mouth.

He beckons, asking you to come outside.

You give him an incredulous look, trying to be as quiet as physically possible while getting out of bed and putting on your jacket and boots.

‘What sort of time do you call this?’ You exclaim, exasperated.

‘The best time to go to the lake.’

You can’t help but notice the smirk on his face as he turns on his heel, walking down the gravel path.

You quickly look around for possible bystanders, before following him.

His lantern lights the way as you walk down the hill in a comfortable silence, arms swinging at every bump and skip in your step.

The lake is glittering at this time of night, especially because of how high and bright the moon is in the sky.

‘I like to sit and have picnics in the moon rather than the sun. The food doesn’t melt and I don’t get sunburned.’

‘We’re having a picnic?’ You practically squeak, eyes widening to basically the same size as the moon above.

‘Well, uh, no, we are in a food shortage,’ Mark stammers, ‘but I did swipe some bread from Armin. Well I mean, he gave it to me, said he would take one for the team or whatever…’

’Thank you Mark,’ you interrupt him, grinning uncontrollably, ‘this is really sweet.’

‘But if it’s any constellation, I would’ve loved to have made you a picnic. When they take back the wall I promise I’ll make up a nice spread of food.’

‘Where’s all this come from, Mark?’ You wonder aloud.

‘I’ve just had a realisation recently,’ he admits, gulping.

‘What is it?’

‘I really like you, Y/N,’ he confesses, taking both of your hands in his and rubbing them with his thumbs, ‘and I know that you probably don’t feel the same, and that we definitely have much bigger things to focus on, but-‘

You cut him off by practically launching yourself at him, kissing him.

For a moment he is stiff as a board underneath you with his surprise, before relaxing and reciprocating your kiss.

For a while you sit there, under the watchful eye of the moon, eventually peeling away from each other when you become breathless.

‘I like you too, Mark. Being with you takes me away from this horrible reality. And I don’t know what the future will be like, but I know that I want you in it.’

‘I feel exactly the same way,’ he whispers, still holding your hands.

‘We have to pick our regiments really soon. I think that I might join the survey corps,’ you say, staring out into the lake.

‘I’ll go wherever you go,’ Mark murmurs, rubbing your cheek with his hand, which you lean into.

You sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, your head resting on his shoulder, Mark occasionally turning his head to kiss your hair.

‘What made you decide to tell me this now?’ You ask.

‘Well, let’s just say I got some encouragement from Krista and Sasha.’

’I should’ve known,’ you chuckle, ‘I’ll get them back later.’

Mark laughs, perking up slightly as though he had remembered something.

‘Ready to crack open the bread, baby?’

taglist

just send me a ask/dm if you want to be added/removed! 

@hiqhkey​ @eyyyyyyyow

[petewentzisblack1312]

hey dils!! was listening to sunshine riptide and thought of u so i wanted to say i hope ur taking care and also ask if u have any favorite fob videos/interviews?? lately i have been obsessed w the promo video patrick did for the honda civic tour where he drove around LA and said the only reason they got the tour was because he already drove a civic ahsjdbd

first of all it is SO flattering that listening to sunshine riptide made you think of me 🥺

secondly i was molded out of clay to answer this question, 100% i have a lot that i think about like way too often

the one where petes giving a tour of his parents house where he lived at the time and was showing off his stuff and was particularly very excited about the fact that his band was turned into action figures and then half way through andy shows up and is like "were best friends forever!" and petes like "yeah andy comes over for sleepovers a lot, we hang out in my basement and make zines and stuff" and then at the end he gets all excited cuz he hears his moms car pull up and he goes out and shes coming out of the car and then patrick gets out of the car carrying groceries and petes like "here mom me and patrick can put the groceries away you finish the interview" and shes like "no- pete i just got home from work im a mess" and hes like "what? no! no mom you look great, you can finish the interview well take in the groceries" and then she did and the camera crew came back to the two of them messing around and putting groceries away.

"pete wentz is honestly the only way to describe pete wentz. hes the most complicated guy i know." [cut to] "if anyone can make a strike without touching the lane i will pay you $300" *throws bowling balls straight into the air* *runs down the lane*

ok but in all seriousness i love that interview not only for that iconic moment but because later the footage is like blaring i dont care and pete goes and grabs a stuffed giraffe out of the prize thingie and hes like "what do you mean :)? we bought this with our tickets!!" and the editors are very much trying to make it a bad boy rebel without a cause moment except if you looked the woman behind the counter had a smile on her face and was laughing and then afterwards he gave it back and said "we werent really gonna steal it" but it really seemed like she knew that already

and then at a different point a couple fans showed up and they were all shy and excited to meet him and he was just like "hey are you guys coming to the show later" and they were like "yeah" and he was like "cool! thanks for coming out :) do you want a picture?" and they took a picture and it seemed like he was still kinda excited that people were excited to meet him. marcus (their bodyguard) was like trailing behind him and smiling and laughing throughout most of these antics and i just think thats sweet.

later in this same interview once again as they were on the ride back to their hotel or whatever theyd brought back a fake moustache and patrick put it on and did a bunch of dumb impressions.

patrick: if i wasnt doing music i think id be like a music critic or music journalist or something

andy:...i thought you said youd work at walmart

theres this one srar era interview thats just joe and patrick riffing for like 15 minutes. like it looks like they just straight up forgot the interviewer was there its so funny theyre such good friends.

this one joe and pete interview where i dont even really remember what they were talking about but theres a moment where joes talking about music with this intense passion and pete just kinda looks at him with this level of brotherly pride that keeps me going

this one andy and pete interview where 1) there were waterfowl chillin behind them which was deeply fascinating to andy and 2) they took a moment to swivel their chairs and hug each other bc theyre besties

band superlatives, specifically the moment where theyre all separately like "technically marcus isnt in the band but like. its marcus." bc that was sweet, unofficial 5th member of fob. and also "whos the most talented" "patrick. patrick. its patrick, hands down." "hm. petes like a really good soccer player" like thats a moment out of a fucking sitcom

halloween asmr with pete wentz. the man cant act but god can he commit to a bit.

there was this like live text chat that they all were in with fans on some radio station website. there were a lot of very fun moments, including joe saying "this is very current technology." as a comment on how very dated the live chat was and andy being like "can we set an icon i wanna change mine to an XVX" and pete and joe being like "oh are you vegan straight edge? we had no idea." and then pete was like "actually i wanna change my icon to andy hurley" and andy was like "no pete im not gonna send you a picture of me" and he was like :( and then a minute later he changed it to andy and he was like, and i swear this is almost a direct quote "BOOM! i love my life haha" and andy was like "goddammit" like i have no idea where to find this but it was so good.

theres this one "this or that" interview with joe and andy wherein the interviewer was a woman and like she seemed pretty at ease around them and got to the last question and imo seemed kinda uncomfortable and kind of established (in a way that seemed like she didnt usually do that) that it was a gross question, which was "would you have sex with a super hot celebrity but shes just died" and both of them were like "hey. what the fuck. absolutely not." and shes like "oh thats a first" and they are both like "do people say yes to that????????" and shes like "youre literally the first people to say no haha" in a way that made it seem that she did not find it funny and i just find that to be an interesting moment and i hope shes doing well and has a better producer now.

theres this one interview w andy on a hardcore podcast where the interviewer asks andy "do you every wish fall out boy were more political?" and he said (paraphrasing) "fall out boy is political, in its own way. we may not be as explicit with our politics as my other stuff, but kids find fall out boy, and through me, with all my other bands, or through joe, since he does a lot of metal, find heavier stuff, and are introduced to this stuff and to being vegan straight edge or anarchist or just more radical politics, and i dont think that just because we arent being super political in our music we arent a political band" which was really something to me bc i had just been thinking about that as a concept i call "gateway punk"

theres this one interview i recently found of a very small chicago music news outlet where a young lady interviewed pete and asked far more interesting questions than any other interviewer id ever seen and one such question was how he felt about the legalization of marijuana in illinois and he said that it was cool that it was legal but everyone locked up for it right now should be released and i like that he got to be political

theres a moment on the badass jew podcast episode joe was on where the interviewer whomst i do not recall was espousing some veiled antiblack sentiments wrt some antisemitic comments some famous black people had made and joe just completely rebutted it immediately and pointed out that black people not only are not a monolith bht are at a greater disadvantage

and also he made a joke that i could never make and cant fully get bc im not jewish but it was very funny and i love hearing people make jokes that arent for me.

this one interview before patrick had kids where he was saying how everyone kept asking him and elisa when theyd have kids and he was like "you cant just make that happen yknow? how do you just do that?" and pete immediately grinned and leaned over and mock whispered "you have sex" and patrick punched the air and was like "i hate you so much"

that one interview about abap where pete was like "we actually got the guy who did the whistles on patience by guns n roses to do it on this" and then he looks over at patrick and patrick shakes his head and petes like "you couldnt let me have this?" and he was like "i was gonna but then you looked at me and i just couldnt."

"whats the most important thing to you right now?"

patrick: star wars

joe: my daughter.

patrick: ...my son?

the puppy interview. everyone involved including the puppies was having the time of their goddamn life.

i have to stop this is too much its been like an hour

[glassessence]

PGR - OC

I got so inspired by everyone’s creativity that I created my own OC ^^” Even though she’s a member of the Purifying Force, I hope she’ll still be received warmly. Special thanks to @punishing-gray-raven-ocs​ for their detailed posts about character creation that really made me think about Lydias! 

Warning: I may have gone a bit overboard with the detail. It’s a long read! Also, I threw in a not-so-subtle reference to the most traumatic Memory Rescue mission lmao. So proceed with caution, I guess HAHA

Name                          Lydias: Umbral

Type                            Offensive Support-type Construct

Service time              1 year

Psychological age    24

Activation date         15 March

Height                         167 cm

Weight                        59 kg

Vital fluid type          O

Faction                        Purifying Force

Rank                            A

Weapon                      Chakrams (preferred) /  Gun

Damage type             70% Dark, 30% Physical

Lydias is a support-type Construct modelled after Watanabe’s Astral frame. She has extreme stealth capabilities and excels at tracking, making her ideal for the execution of rogue and infected Constructs.

Her missions mostly involve infiltration and spying, although she’s also been deployed on assassination missions. Those orders come straight from Nikola and their records are kept top-secret, inaccessible even to Bianca.

Her frame is designed for long-range sniping and comes equipped with visual accuracy enhancements and superb calculative powers. However, Lydias prefers to engage her targets in close combat. Killing Constructs from afar feels cruel and cold, like they really are meaningless machines instead of former comrades.

She truly believes in the good of the Purifying Force, but hates the things she has to do. She doesn’t feel like she belongs, but also can’t see a future for herself anywhere else.

Her fighting style is very graceful, featuring a lot of spins and flips that are reminiscent of a dance. Her signature move is called “Blade Dance.”

B A C K G R O U N D 

Lydias was born to a wealthy family in Babylonia. Her mother joined the war effort as a Commandant shortly after she was born and is known as the leader of the elite task force, Cybele. Since then, Lydias has always wanted to follow in her mother’s famous footsteps.

Originally a Commandant of the Black Wolves, a certain incident caused her to give up the position and apply for reconstruction. Despite having low compatibility for Tantalum-193, her application was approved after negotiations with Nikola. Following her surgery, she was transferred to the Purifying Force.

P E R S O N A L I T Y

Shows affection through actions rather than words. Bakes cakes for the humans of Babylonia in her free time

Philosophical, often ponders on the nature of humans and of the war

Likes to make dirty jokes and tease others

Obedient to a fault because she doesn’t trust her own judgement

Comes across as cold, but is just awkward with introductions

Doesn't think very highly of herself. Ignores it when other Constructs call her "traitorous hunting dog" but secretly thinks they're right

Loves the sea and the fathomless depths yet to be explored. Likes to go swimming at every opportunity

Prefers to work alone, but overprotective of her comrades when in a team. Frequently throws herself in harm’s way to shield her teammates. Knows it’s not good, but is too haunted by her past

Trusts easily, but is very guarded with her heart

Knows how to dance a lot of old-school styles like ballroom and ballet, but is too shy to ask anyone to practice with her

S E C R E T S

Has memorised a lot of poetry from before the Punishing Virus outbreak

Gets intensely lonely and jealous when seeing close squad camaraderie like Gray Raven’s

Avoids Kamui because he reminds her of someone she’s lost

Has spied on Watanabe extensively under Babylonian orders and is deeply fascinated by him

Doesn’t trust Nikola, but is unable to disobey his commands

Secretly harbours doubts about Babylonia’s mission to reclaim Earth

Has obtained special permission to download the data of the Black Wolves and often reads the records to keep them alive in her heart

V O I C E   L I N E S

“Team leader? No, I refuse. You’re making a grave mistake.”

“I’m not suited for protecting people.”

“My opinion on the Forsaken? They’re hardworking, loyal, and--Nevermind. We seem to share a similar goal.”

“The Black Wolves? Where did you hear of that name?! Don’t mention it again!”

“I baked a cake today. Would you like some?”

“Yes, I can dance. But I’d prefer it if you didn’t tell the others…”

“I can teach you to dance. Privately, if you’d like. Haha, just kidding.”

“Becoming a Construct was a decision I made rashly. I don’t necessarily regret it, but…”

“Are we really doing the right thing? This endless war… All these years… What have we really achieved?”

INTERLUDE

D U S K F A L L

A voice cracked over the intercom. “...dant…Com...ant...Commandant, do you hear me?!”

Lydias blinked. The urgency in his voice caught her off guard. Ferdinand kept his cool even in the most dire of situations. Something was very wrong. “Tell me, Ferdie.” Static. “Ferds? Come through!” Nothing. Communications had been poor ever since they’d entered this area, but they’d managed until now. For it to suddenly fail like that… it couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Shit,” she said, turning to the other two Constructs with her. “On guard, guys. Something’s coming and comms are down.”

Ilya grimaced. “Sure it’s not one of Ferdinand’s pranks again?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Flora offered, even as she tightened her grip on her lance. “Pesky little bastard would find it hilarious.” Lydias said nothing. She was too tense. There was a taste in the air, a metallic tang that churned in her belly. Sweat dripped into her eye. Suddenly, a hand slapped her on the back. “Relax, Commandant,” Ilya chuckled. “We’ll protect you like always. No need to be so scared all the time.”

Something in her loosened, just a bit. “Shouldn’t I be the one protecting you?” she retorted, trying to project confidence. “You guys with your fragile little M.I.N.Ds?” Flora laughed, a deep-belly rumble that Lydias loved. The knot in her stomach unravelled some more. “You do that, Commandant,” Flora said. “We’ll just twirl our pointy sticks at the bad guys.”

Lydias was just about to say something snarky when she caught movement in the corner of her eye. She swirled, gun at the ready. There was still no word from Ferdinand. “I’m sensing a large Corrupted force in our perimeter,” Ilya reported. His voice had lost its casual lilt. “They’ve got us surrounded.”

Lydias cursed. “How’s that Memory retrieval coming along?”

“Slowly,” Ilya replied unhappily. Flora clicked her tongue. The Corrupted were visible now. They weren’t like anything Lydias had seen before. They carried advanced weapons - chainsaws and spears and bows - and seemed to be organised into phalanxes. Dread coiled in her belly. “We’ve been ambushed,” she breathed in horror. “Ferdinand tried to warn us. They must have blocked off comms.”

“Well, shit,” Flora grunted. The Corrupted army was within gunshot range now. “When the fuck did they get so smart?”

“Someone must be leading them,” Ilya said. “How did the information leak?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Lydias said. “We need to retreat. Now.” A bullet flew by her head, burning the shell of her ear as it passed. Her heart hammered. “Back off,” Flora growled. She twirled her spear, eyes flashing as she impaled the Corrupted soldier. Beside her, Ilya stepped forward, fast as a flash, and stabbed one through the neck. Lydias fired off three shots, watching in grim satisfaction as two buried themselves in the heads of two infected Constructs.

The scene descended into chaos just as Ferdinand’s broken voice sounded in her ear. “...n...way! Comm...ant!”

-----------

Flora stumbled back. She was breathing heavily. Vital fluid leaked steadily from several places, staining her coat a rich purple. Ilya was behind her, grimacing. His left arm was gone, torn away at the shoulder. Sparks flew from the exposed wires within. Beside them, Lydias swayed unsteadily. She clutched at her stomach. Red blood seeped through her fingers. All their attempts to break through had failed. Things were looking more hopeless by the minute. 

“Commandant,” Ilya said, voice strained. “Turn off my pain receptors.” Flora nodded. “Same here.” Lydias coughed wetly. Her vision was growing dim. “It’s dangerous,” she admitted, wishing she could shut off her own terrible pain. “But there’s no other choice.” She authorised the command. Her team’s face relaxed immediately. She met their determined gazes and nodded. “We’re all gonna go home. Together.”

Ilya smiled. Flora grinned. But there was a sadness in their faces Lydias didn’t want to acknowledge. Her connection with Ferdinand was still blocked. He could be dead for all she knew. She turned away from the thought. Just survive, Lydias. And take the Wolves home.

Together, the Black Wolves rose. Ilya with his dagger and Flora with her spear. Unseen by Lydias, they nodded to each other. An agreement, a pact. A promise. Renewed, they threw themselves at the Corrupted like cornered animals. Slowly, inch by painful inch, an exit was being forced open. Corrupted weapons dug into their bodies, but they pushed on. 

Lydias fought beside them, swinging her chakrams haphazardly. Her gun had run out of ammo long ago. She stumbled, half-blind, and almost skewered herself on the end of a Corrupted sword. She could hardly think straight; blood loss was making her weak. Suddenly, a voice crackled in her mind. “Commandant!” Ferdinand’s voice tumbled through her hazy thoughts. “The signal jammer is gone. What’s your status?!”

Her heart soared, bringing with it a brief burst of clarity. “Ferdie! It’s an ambush. We need support!”

“I’ve already informed Babylonia,” he said urgently. “Reinforcement is on the way. I’m coming to you, Commandant. Just hold on!” His signal blinked to life, moving rapidly towards their location. Lydias smiled grimly. Ferdinand was on his way. Support was coming. Surely, they would be okay. They would make it out of this. She just had to hold on for a little longer. 

Flora’s signal pulsed unsteadily and Ilya’s grew fainter with every breath. Lydias clung with desperation to the unstable M.I.N.Ds of her Wolves. I will protect you.

-----------

“Coming through!” A ray of energy tore through the Corrupted wave. Lydias spied Ferdinand’s face through the sea of blades. She almost wept with relief. “Retreat,” she said hoarsely, struggling to stay conscious. “Black Wolves, retreat!”

On cue, Ilya and Flora rushed through the tunnel, half-carrying Lydias with them. Between one ferocious breath and the next, they’d broken through the Corrupted circle. She tumbled bonelessly into Ferdinand’s open arms. He took a brief moment to survey her and paled. “The meeting point isn’t far,” he said. “Support will be there.” He picked up Lydias and turned to run, but Ilya and Flora didn’t follow. 

“Sorry, but this is the end of the road for me,” Flora said wryly. “Didn’t think it’d end like this.” She spat out a wad of purple fluid. “At least these fuckers will go down with me.”

“And you get the privilege of dying by my side,” Ilya said primly, readjusting his grip on his dagger. Flora laughed, an edge of sadness in her voice. “Yeah, old man, I guess I do.”

Lydias stirred in Ferdinand’s arms. “No,” she said, forcing herself to meet their gazes. “I won’t allow it.” 

“Unfortunately, Commandant,” Ilya said. “This time it’s not up to you.” He raised his remaining hand in a salute. “It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

“Go on,” Flora growled. “We’ll make sure nobody pursues you.”

Ferdinand pursed his lips, but nodded tightly. Lydias fought in his grip. She hardly even felt the pain. “No!” she screamed, or tried to. It was hard to tell where her voice was. “Don’t! I forbid it! That’s an order!” He started running. She watched helplessly as the distance grew. “Stop! Go back, we have to help them! Stop!”

In the fading light, Ilya fell and was immediately consumed by a horde of Corrupted hands. His signal weakened then blinked out. A scream tore itself from her throat. She thrashed in Ferdinand’s grip and felt his hold on her loosen. White-hot pain shot through her body as she tumbled to the ground. Mad with grief, she crawled forward desperately, mind blank except for the desire to be with her Wolves. 

Strong arms lifted her up. Ferdinand’s lively voice was dull. “Please don’t do this, Lydias.” 

“Let go, Ferdie,” she said angrily. “We have to--” Flora’s signal flickered out. Lydias felt her spirit break. “No,” she cried. “Please, no.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. Words abandoned her. The world seemed to shrink, compacting to a single thought: she had failed. 

-----------

She woke to white light. Something beeped steadily beside her. Tubes ran from her body to several machines like the tentacles of some deep sea creature. Her entire body hurt. Immediately, she reached for the Black Wolves, but their signals were absent, leaving her mind uncomfortably empty. Panic settled like ice in her veins. It couldn’t be. It was impossible. 

Surely, they had recalled their consciousnesses. Surely, she’d simply woken up early. And where was Ferdie? Gasping, Lydias stood, dragging her broken body to the wall of windows. She brought a fist to the cool glass. Nikola watched her from the other side. “Where are they,” she croaked. “What happened?”

He shook his head sympathetically. “They didn’t recall their consciousness. According to our records, Ilya and Flora died protecting you from pursuit. Ferdinand was infected.” His eyes were grave. “He guarded you until reinforcements arrived.”

She didn’t know if she could bear the answer, but she asked anyway. “And then?”

Nikola studied her for a long moment before giving in. “And then the Punishing Virus took over his M.I.N.D. He escaped because we prioritised your survival.” A desperate hope sparked to life within her. “So he’s still alive? Then there’s still a chance! Please, let me find him!”

“You know it doesn’t work like that.” 

“Please,” she begged. “Please.”

He turned away from her. “The Purifying Force has already been sent after him. I’m sorry, Lydias.”

-----------

Three weeks later

“Are you sure?” Nikola asked, studying her with intensity. “Your chances of success are only 47%.”

Lydias stared at him blankly. “I’m sure.”

“I’m afraid I can’t allow it. Commandants are valuable to Babylonia. Perhaps even more than Constructs. Few possess the will and compatibility to stabilize M.I.N.Ds. Someone as experienced as you is not expendable.”

“Then I quit being a Commandant. I refuse to lead another squad.” She looked away. “I couldn’t protect any of them. Not a single one.” Her voice broke. “I’m not… I don’t think I can--I just can’t.”

Nikola considered her with some pity. “What do you want then, Lydias?”

“You know what I want. I’m not afraid of dying.”

“I know you’re not afraid, but it seems to me like you seek it.”

She said nothing. Nikola sighed. “I’d rather not lose you completely. You have experience and ability. The Black Wolves were specifically chosen for that mission for your competence. Aife will increase our combat power significantly against the Corrupted.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s unfortunate, but these things happen at war.”

“Say whatever you want,” Lydias said stubbornly. “But this is my final decision.”

“Fine,” Nikola said. “Your attempt at redemption is admirable. I’ll grant your request, but if you survive, you’ll work directly under me. Is that acceptable?”

“Perfectly.”

INTERLUDE HIDDEN CHAPTER

F A D I N G   L I G H T

Flora: Fairfrost - Voice Log 

*sounds of fighting* I hope this reaches you, Commandant. I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer and… *grunting* I just wanna say goodbye. The old man’s already gone. I felt his signal die out a while ago. He went down taking a blade for me, can you believe it? Even though I’m the Attacker Construct. *panting* You know what his last words to me were? “It hurts.” As if our pain receptors weren’t turned off. I know what he means though. *blades clashing* After all, we all wanna go back home with you. But life’s a bit unfair, eh? For once, I don’t mind. Protecting your back… it almost makes me feel like a hero. That ain’t something you experience every day, y’know? *metal tearing* I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you. For being someone worthy of love. *crash, wet coughing* It’s been my honour and privilege to have been one of your Wolves, Commandant. You’ll remember me, won’t you?

-----------

Ferdinand: Aegis - Voice Log 

Lydias… This will probably be my last communication with you. I never would have thought this would be how it ends, but… Well, I’m just glad that I get to spend my final moments with you. I can feel my M.I.N.D. slipping, but Babylonia will be here any second now. They’ll take care of you, the way I wish I could. *sigh* Ah, there are so many things I want to say. I have nothing to lose anymore, so I hope you’re ready to listen. *deep breath* I love you. The way you laugh at my jokes and tease me. The way you can talk about anything. Your smile, your lips. I love the way you kiss me. And of course, I love our late night activities… Such as you trying to teach me to dance. *short laughter* Were you expecting me to say something else, Commandant? You--*grunt, glitching* Looks like my time is running out. I should go, but promise me one thing, Lydias. Promise me you’ll keep your heart open, so that someone else can love you as you deserve. I--You--*glitches*

DATA CORRUPTED.

[tuffduff]

Your Pretty Little Angel (Axl Rose x Reader)

Pairing: fluffy modern!Axl x Reader

Words: 1,785

Request: @zeppelinwhore​ : “ Hey, love! How r u? I was wondering if i could request a fic with modern!axl? Where reader feels insecure about herself, like she saw the pic of Axl and Lana and then she feels like she is not as pretty as Lana. Or some shit like that lol. <3 “

A/N: Thanks for requesting, hun! The more of these modern!Axl imagines I write, the more I want to be his little sugar baby, ya know? Hope y’all enjoy this one! (Also this gif fucking killed me he’s SO cute)

Taglist: @ubernoxa @the--blackdahlia​ @reigns420​ @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker​ @rumoured-whispers​ @dustnbones​

Your fingers drummed on the bathroom counter in front of you, drawing your focus to the sound of tapping against the granite rather than the gaping mirror in front of you. Anything but the reflection.

It wasn’t as though you were always racked with self-hatred or insecurity of your appearance. At the same time, you weren’t vain. You had worked hard to accept you as you were, it was all anyone could do, right? Everyone had their days though.

Especially when you were dating a globally celebrated rock star.

Axl Rose used to be a name that circulated the news channels and magazines much more frequently. Nowadays, any mention of Guns N’ Roses was a bit rarer, especially since Axl chose to lead a more private life. His name still had the power to generate headlines, though. You had definitely seen the latest—the images were practically burned into your mind now.

“Axl’s New Flame”

“So, Lana Del Rey and Axl Rose Are Hanging Out Together”

“Where’s Y/N? Axl Ditches Former Girl-Next-Door For Singing Siren”

You knew it was innocent. You knew rumor articles were cruel. You knew there was likely nothing even to it; Axl had gone out for a business dinner and they must have run into each other. After all, Lana Del Rey is a well-known Guns N’ Roses fan. The only pictures you had seen so far was her walking ahead of him leaving the same hotel restaurant. Axl simply wasn’t like that; you had been together for over a year now.

That was you trying to be rational and avoid a spiral of doubt. But of course, you ended up tumbling over the edge and soon got lost in overthinking.

You read the articles, every single detail you could find. The fact that she wrote a song all the way back in 2008 called “Axl Rose Husband.” Her coy smile in the pictures—so beautiful with her elegant face. Sure, Axl wasn’t like that, but did anyone really expect to get cheated on? Did anyone ever expect to be left? Those kinda things blind-sided even the most infatuated adoring lovers, and you began to brace yourself for the impact. Sure, you had just moved into his house, but he could always kick you out. You and Axl had never even exchanged “I love you” with each other, maybe he was seeing what else was out there. Maybe he had been charmed, maybe you just hadn’t seen other pictures yet. You read the articles speculating if Axl had left you in the dust. It was easy to find pictures comparing you to Lana. This was worse than online stalking because all the work was done for you—and there were people’s commentary and opinions, people you didn’t even know, who didn’t know you.

When you glanced up, almost accidentally, you realized you had started crying. You chuckled bitterly and added another negative trait to your list: too fucking sensitive. Who did you think you were, dating Axl Rose?

“Hey, sugar, I thought we were getting lunch? You’ve been up here for almost an hour.” You heard Axl call from your shared bedroom and heard his steps crossing the floor. You panicked; you didn’t want him to see you right now when the image of her was probably pinned in his memories. Her laugh, her smile, her bambi eyes looking at his. Was he comparing the two of you like everyone else? Wondering why he settled when he could’ve had her?

“Uh, hang on! Give me a minute,” you tried to stall; you needed a helluva lot longer than a minute.

“What’s wrong?” You heard Axl asked as he paused right outside the bathroom. It was almost a casual question, as though he weren’t really expecting anything serious to be wrong. “Your hair brush is out here if that’s what you’re looking for.” You chuckled slightly, smiling sadly at his nonchalant observation. “Are you okay?” He pressed when you didn’t answer, and that’s when you completely fell apart.

“Y-yeah! I just, uh...I poked my eye and...” you lied with the first thing that entered your head and grimaced at the weak attempt to stop your voice from shaking as hot, fresh tears spilled from your eyes. “I’m actually not feeling well; maybe we can go another time. Why don’t you go get something for yourself?” He didn’t answer, and you wondered if maybe he had left to do exactly that.

“Why in the world would I do that?” You jumped at the sound of his soft voice right behind you and glanced up to look at him in the mirror’s reflection, staring back at you in confusion, hairbrush in hand. Heavy concern shaded his face when he saw you. “Y/N, what’s wrong, darlin’?”

“It’s really nothing,” you lied and Axl immediately frowned angrily at you. His boots hit the floor with purpose as he marched over to where you sat on the vanity stool. He knelt down right next to your thigh in an effort to match your level.

“You know I hate it when you tell me that, Y/N. I hate wasting time with you upset and me not knowin’ the reason why. Do you trust me?” You hesitated at the question and saw a flicker of surprised hurt flash in Axl’s eyes.

“No, I do!” You said quickly, before you shook your head. “I do. Really, it’s just me overthinking...and just...imagining worse case scenarios and...” you shrugged.

Axl was silent for a moment before he stood. You stared at your lap, wondering if you had offended him, before you felt his fingers weave through your hair. He pulled your head closer to him, to where your cheek was resting against the denim covering his hip and his fingers massaging your scalp.

“You and that pretty little head of yours...” he muttered affectionately. “C’mon, sweetheart, tell me what’s wrong. I get it, you know. Wasted plenty of years of my life just fucking overthinking things I didn’t need to.” You looked up at him and something in your expression suddenly made him pull you up by your elbows. He took your place on the stool before he brought you down on his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Now,” he prompted. “I’m listening.”

You stared down at your hands in your lap.

“I saw the pictures.” You murmured.

“Pictures of...?” Axl asked.

“You with Lana.” You peeked up at him and watched confusion furrow his eyebrows before understanding took its place. There was a silence.

“Ah.” He finally said with a nod.

“There were...a lot of articles telling me about the state of my relationship this morning.” You chuckled feebly. “You know, a much better start to my day than Folgers or the weather forecast.” Axl was shaking his head.

“I hate them.” Axl said. “I hate all of it. The manipulation, the way they think they know every detail. And it still happens, even now, twisting it all however they want.”

“For the record, I didn’t think anything of it.” You reassured him, though you couldn’t help the way your voice sounded small. You wondered if Axl could hear the insecurity behind your words too.

You could feel Axl pat your hip, his hand resting against you.

“Someone introduced us. She’s a big fan, it was nice conversation. I liked some of her ideas, concepts she was telling me about songwriting. But that was it. We walked out at the same time and that was somehow the big story.” You nodded a little. You had known that, but even with the confirmation, you were left wondering why you still felt empty.

“I guess...it’s just harder for me.” You said out loud, trying to work out your thoughts. “I’m...nobody. And you’re you, and I knew that—it wasn’t what drew me to you, that’s not why I got into this—but this world knows you too and how amazing you are, and then, sometimes things like last night happen. And I trust you with all my heart, Axl, but someone like Lana Del Rey; she’s gorgeous. She’s talented, she’s acclaimed. I’m sure she would have been willing. Why wouldn’t you...”

Axl’s grip tightened around your hips now, making you stop your words.

“First of all, I never want to hear you say something like that again. Y/N, you’re not nothing. You’re nothing short of incredible. This world hardly ever says anything about how ‘amazing’ they consider me. Mainly, it’s just about how I’ve lost it.” You frowned a little. There was a change in his tone, switching from insistence to almost cynicism. “How I don’t sound the same anymore. How I don’t look the same. I’m washed up, I’m an egotistical perfectionist—the list goes on. But you…you’re beautiful, baby. I look at you and I can see the way everyone else looks at you, and it makes me I wonder how in the hell I get to have you. You make me proud. You make me feel like the things I see written about me aren’t true. Because you never make me feel like that.” You twisted in the position you were sitting to face him better.

“I’m a fucking mess,” you laughed breathlessly, fighting another onslaught of tears. Axl smiled, leaning up to kiss the corner of your mouth, a fleeting kiss, uncaring if his lips even met yours because any inch of your skin was a prize to be kissed.

“You’re not a mess. Baby, you’re a whirlwind. Your thoughts, the way you look at the world, all the things you’ve brought into mine...”

“Axl...” you stopped him, but only had an absence for any words to explain the relief you were feeling, the calm that filled you. You could only shake your head and reach your hands out to cradle his face in in them. He immediately leaned forward to press his lips to yours.

“I love you, Y/N.” He whispered, his eyes still shut as you pulled back, stunned. He blinked his eyes open, smiling again at you. “I love you, my pretty little angel.”

“I love you too, Ax. I always wanna make you proud.” You replied back, smiling against his lips as you kissed him again.

“You do. And you know what else?” He asked as he pulled back. “I’m pretty fucking hungry.” You laughed with your head falling back before you stood from his lap.

“Just gimme a second. I’ll be ready soon.” Axl paused by the door.

“Wear that blue sundress of yours, baby. The one with the slit up the leg.” There was a twinkle in his eye. “I want them all to see you on my arm today.”

[boys-from-santacarla]

Note; I deeply apologize seeing as this is going to end up being long. Onto the information; My name is Ghost(mainly go by this one), Acid, Killer(more of a nickname), or Gore(more of a nickname). I go by he/they/xe/its, and I'm a dude, MLM and poly so it really doesn't matter much who it is. Born March 31st, being an Aries I'm a very loud and energetic person. I'm also very impulsive and get myself into deep shit, even if I don't realize I'm doin' it. I get overly loud when the topic is about something I enjoy or is into, if I try flirting on purpose it's ass but when I do it without realizing I get called a huge flirt. Big music and art geek, I have sketchbooks upon sketchbooks filled just sitting around in my room. I listen to a lot of rock like Queen, Guns N Roses, Red Hot Chilli Peppers, ACDC, Nickelback, KISS, Slipknot, KoRn, and on and on. Although I listen to every genre of music minus country(although there are few songs I can deal with). Big tattoo/piercing person, if you have one visible I will point it out and geek out about it. Although literally don't ask me to name a few songs unless I've been rambling on about it because I have the shittiest memory. I dye my hair so often it's surprising my hair is still healthy. I have literally bleached my hair, dyed it red and let that fade for a week, then dyed it blue and have been touching up the blue ever since then. If it wasn't due to money problems and the fact it's hard to borrow in my town my hair would probably have my hair a different color every two weeks. I ramble quite a bit and have the shittiest focus and memory, so you may have to pull me to the side and tell me to calm down. Would definitely compliment on the boys looks, specially their outfits. I'm a coffee and monster addict at this point, you'll see one or the other in my hand, and the occasional water bottle because I try to keep myself health. My love language is through touch and insulting people. Ex, "I fucking love you dumbass" or flipping you off playfully as a way of saying "i love you bitch". Smoking doesn't bother me, grew up around it my entire life. I love riding on motorcycles, no matter the weather, is it cold asf, nice idgaf, is it raining, shit lets go. I have a bad(good in some people's eyes) of using petnames/nicknames for everyone. Everyone has a wholesome petname from me and then I'll call them a whore or some shit. I cuss too much for my own good, I literally don't have a filter in my entire body. I will impulsively say shit, sometimes that's a good thing and sometimes it's a bad thing. Due to my anxiety I try to stay away from large crowds, but if I'm in them (aka on the boardwalk) I will have music blaring in my ears and my ears glued into my current sketchbook. Although I currently don't have them, I'm going to add them anyways because I'm going to end up getting them when I have the money to go to a piercer or to get a kit. I want a shit ton of piercings. Such as snake bites(lip piercing), tongue, septum, all of the piercings finished on my ears, and bridge. I've stated once I'm a big tattoo geek, so I want a quite a bit of those. I'm definitely a big "oh let's do it myself" person, and I have tried giving myself a septum piercing. (it would've worked if it wasn't for the fact I did it too low to be able to flip it up to hide it) I love the adrenaline of fights, it doesn't matter if I win or loose, although I do prefer if I win. I literally get the most random urge to fight someone for the hell of it. Probably has something to do with impulsive thoughts and shit, but oh well. I'm a big respect person, I live by the motto "you respect me, I'll respect you". I have blackouts sometimes due to rage and anxiety, so I try to keep myself from having them. I have a bad habit of rambling and saying sorry too much. I tend to repeatedly say sorry whilst rambling as I tend to get overly excited and loud when I ramble. I'm a very talkive person if I know and trust you. If you're around me and you don't get your ear talked off or messed with, you're probably not liked or

you need to leave. It's one easy way you'll be able to tell if I get along with you or not. I kinda have a whatever/punk/alt style, a lot of time I just grab something decent and throw it on. Although you'll always see me wearing a belt and my platform shoes. I'm 5'0, so my obsession with platforms grew because of my need to be tall. I wear a lot of baggy clothing, I'm definitely more of a comfort over style person.

Ok, my dude, I'll definitely pair you with...

Marko and Paul

Oh, man, you three are gonna be some threesome (and not necessarily in the sexual way lol)

Just imagine THE MESS

The boys think you're adorable when you get into the romantic mood and try to flirt but end up saying bad pick-up lines, so they'll laugh, but will twirl their hair as whoerish as possible and follow the game. Or they would get on with their manly act and fight to see who will flirt back better.

Now, the chatting will be so goddamn long! You three will go on 4 hour-long conversations that'll get from a "look at this new t-shirt I got" to "so that's why Ronald Reagan was an alien". The worst part is left to the spectators like David or Dwayne since none of you three will be the sane individual and shut y'all up.

The blondes like your drawing, and ask you to draw them or random stuff and people CONSTANTLY, so you'll have many opportunities to improve your skills and try with different models. When they happen to find some of your sketchbooks, they try to impress you or simply give a small present by drawing you or something you like, or at least make the attempt since some of the "fine pieces" as they call them, they give you are like children's school projects.

And, man, about the hair, are you blessed to have the glam diva Paul by your side to give advice and constructive criticism to your hair. He will help you choose the color and will give it style from time to time if you accept. The process to dye it will be so much fun, and so chaotic; experimenting with the pigments ends up with wounds caused from the bleach and the currently used wardrobe disposed later.

A thing they love about you is that you can stand up for yourself if needed, but they rather you not to, because they know you handle yourself and the others well, maybe too well for your good. Paul tries to take care of you as much as he can so there is no need for you to possibly get hurt. It was enough trying to control Marko so he didn't get involved in some stupid street fight every night at the boardwalk to now have to worry daily about you too. Marko shares the passion for the adrenaline of this and will think it is hot as hell, but he protects you as much as Paul, maybe a bit softer than him about it tho, but if you're in the middle of a fight and it starts to get worse than expected, he dead ass will force you to back off. He'll finish the business himself, sweetheart.

As for your love language, don't worry, these dorks will accept you playful pushes with joy, and they'll give you some of them too. But if you accidentally flip and fall some meters before hitting ground, you know the rule: laugh first, help second.

Oh, and you better get prepared for the bullying. You're the smallest in the group, so that leads to a constant attack as a hobbit. Marko joins the quip, but I mean, he'll get humiliated along. Let's just say Paul gives you two a hard time about it. With all the love of course.

They love to get out with you and the others and go to the boardwalk, but they try to take you out on days it is not that crowded, or in hours where a small amount of souls are having a stroll. But, if you happen to go out on a crowded night, they will keep you focused on having a good time, but just mention your getting uncomfortable and you'll be back at the cave in less than a minute.

Paul and Marko really love your style, they think it looks badass and try to match tough outfits with you from time to time. Giving you cool shirts and leather jackets with some patches on them that they think are awesome. Don't ask why some of the clothes have strange-colored stains on them tho.

They go with you to get you ears or nose pierced from the moment you three decided doing it diy style was a bad idea cuz y'all ended up with a bleeding nose and an ear infection the first time of trying it, and because there's no voice of reason in the threesome, Star and Dwayne had to give you kids a very long lecture of not doing those things by yourself.

[etherrealoblivion]

Chapter Eight: Thank You

Table of Contents

Fic summary: Owning a bookstore in downtown D.C. came with its fair share of downsides. You never thought that being the target of a serial killer would be one of them. Luckily, a nice FBI agent by the name of Spencer Reid is assigned to watch over you. What's the worst that could happen?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 1,428

MASTERLIST

~

You’d never held a gun before, much less fired one. Well, it was now or never.

The plan was in your head the moment you heard the footsteps that had been following you since the restaurant. You couldn’t say anything to Spencer. All you could do was hope that he noticed as well.

It should have been blatantly obvious when you pulled him into a dark alley.

Instead, he was confused, looking at you waiting for an explanation. There wasn’t time. The footsteps had followed you. The stalker was close by and probably going to pounce at any moment. You needed a distraction.

“I’m sorry, Spencer, this isn’t how I wanted it.”

“What are you sor—Mmf—“

You pulled him down, lips crashing together. For a moment, the terrible danger you were in was gone from your mind. All that existed was you and him, your arms on his chest, his in your hair, pulling you closer.

He ran his tongue along your mouth and you gasped. He took the opportunity and probed deeper, moaning softly.

The footsteps were so close, brutally reminding you of the danger you were in.

Smoothly, you slipped your hand down to Spencer’s belt. He had tried to cover up his gun but to no avail. The bulge under his sweater was too noticeable.

In a flash, you pulled back with Spencer’s gun in your hand, shoved him away, and aimed at the dark figure mere feet from you.

It was easy to copy what you’d seen in movies and TV shows. You squeezed the trigger, trying to point at the figure’s legs.

The gun went off and your arm flew backwards with the recoil. The sound rang in your ears and you collapsed onto the pavement, overwhelmed by the rush of adrenaline. 

Luckily, Spencer jumped into action, grabbing the gun from you and pointing it at the man.

“What the fuck!?” the man said, clutching his leg.

Your breath turned ragged as you saw the blood pouring from the middle of his thigh. Bile rose in your throat.

“FBI, don’t move,” Spencer said, his voice the dark tone it had been at Quantico. 

“She fuckin’ shot me!” he had mussed dark hair and five-o-clock shadow. You didn’t recognize him.

Spencer slowly reached down, whipped the man's arm around, pinning him to the ground.

A glint caught your eye. A small butterfly knife clattered to the ground, landing right in front of you.

“Y/N, get my phone and call Hotch, speed-dial one, tell him where to meet us. Quick!” he added at your hesitation.

So you got to work, dialing the number, fingers trembling as you held the phone, and waiting for backup to arrive.

When it finally did, the man was rushed off in an ambulance and you and Spencer got in a big black SUV.

“Morgan’s taking us back to your apartment. It’s gonna be okay.”

He was holding both of your hands in one of his, the other stroking your back gently.

Your mind was on autopilot. Firing a gun was much harder than you’d expected. It’d been so heavy, the trigger so hard to pull. The knockback was much stronger than anyone said. Looking at your hand, there was a mark where the gun had hit it.

Spencer noticed and rubbed softly, tenderly. It took all the strength you had to meet his eyes. The moment you did, all thought left you.

He was staring so deeply, so kindly, you wanted to cry right then and there. There was an understanding behind them that you weren’t ready for. It was too much. You broke his gaze, moving farther away in the backseat.

If he was hurt, he didn’t show it. Just continued stroking your back and holding your hands, softly whispering that it would be okay.

When the two of you got back to your apartment, Spencer sat you on your bed, taking off your shoes and handing you a glass of water.

You downed it in one swig, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Spencer walked over to your dresser, reaching for the top drawer.

“May I?”

You nodded.

He handed you a baggy sleep t-shirt and turned to leave in order to give you privacy.

“Wait!” you blurted.

Spencer froze and turned back to you. At the sight of you opening and closing your mouth, not knowing what to say, he nodded and sat in your desk chair.

“I’m going to turn my back but I’m right here. It’s okay.”

Nodding, you unzipped your dress, letting it fall down your shoulders. Too slowly, you remembered that the dress had a built-in bra and clutched the t-shirt to your chest, gasping.

Spencer twitched in the chair, but he didn’t turn around.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

Once you were confident that he wasn’t going to turn around, you slipped your shirt over your head and kicked off your dress.

Now, as comfortable as you could be, you laid down, pulling the covers over you.

“Okay,” you called, voice cracking.

Spencer turned back the moment you spoke, rushing to your side.

“Okay, now listen. I’m gonna be right on the floor next to you, awake, all night. Okay?”

“On the floor?”

Having just grabbed his pillow from your bed, he paused.

You elaborated. “I just. . . . Don’t wanna sleep alone.”

Without saying another word, he tossed his pillow next to yours and laid down on top of the covers.

“Why are you still with me?” it came out harsher than you’d meant it. “I mean, you caught the guy. You don’t need to protect me anymore.” 

Glancing at him, you were surprised to find him looking guilty. Like he was keeping a secret.

“What is it?”

“He’s not . . .” he trailed off.

Spencer wasn’t telling her something.

“Who’s not? What aren’t they?” you sat up, staring at him.

He cringed and met your eyes reluctantly.

“The man tonight approached us, attacking with a knife. Now, this is more indicative of a mugger or a pick-pocket. Not a killer and certainly not a stalker. At least not the type we’ve profiled.”

Your breath went cold in your throat.

“So . . .”

“He’s not our guy. The murderer is still out there.” He said it so sadly. So sorrowfully. Like he knew how much it would hurt you.

But it didn’t. Not as much as it should have. For some reason, when Spencer was near, you were fearless. 

Stop attributing your strength to a man! You’re strong by yourself, an incessant voice inside your head whispered.

Okay, you were a strong independent woman that took down a mugger pretty much single-handedly, never having used a gun before. And getting an earth-shattering kiss in the process. 

You were pretty badass.

But it wasn’t like it was either be a badass or enjoy having someone protect you. Why not both? You weren’t a goddamn damsel in distress and Spencer Reid wasn’t your fucking knight in shining armor. But couldn’t you enjoy the fantasy?

If you liked him, you liked him for him. Not because he was protecting you. Because he was so absolutely, unequivocally, unapologetically himself.

He was staring at the door to your bedroom intently, eyes sharp and gaze fixed. The cogs in his brain were turning so loud you could practically hear them. It was like he was bracing himself for something.

“Spencer.”

Your whisper made him jump ever so slightly.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not gonna thank you.”

He met your eyes and you knew immediately that there was relief there. He didn’t want to be thanked. He was just doing his job.

“Please don’t.”

It was barely audible but you heard it. He said it the kindest way possible. So why did it hurt like hell?

He was just doing his job. He didn’t want anything more. No matter how hungrily he’d kissed you in the alley, no matter how his hands had threaded into your hair, no matter how he’d deepened the kiss so enthusiastically, you knew it was a spur of the moment thing. He didn’t like you like that really. It’s his job, it’s his job, it’s his job, you repeated to yourself, hoping you’d eventually believe it.

Then, gently, softly, his hand grasped yours, fingers lacing together. His thumb rubbed your skin in small circles so intimately. Like he was memorizing the layout of your hand.

And with that simple gesture, everything you thought you knew went away. All that mattered was you and him, lying side by side, hands entwined. And you were happy. And that was enough.

~

Taglist: @aperrywilliams @mjloveskids666 @dolanfivsosxox @criesinreid @fanficsrmylife @racerparker @sammypotato67 @lukeskisses @reidcrimes @you-had-me-at-hello-dear @l0ve-0f-my-life @thatsonezesty13​ @yourmisosoup @queenofthebees003 @pinkdiamond1016 @eu-solidao

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A/N: thank you so much to everyone enjoying this fic! updates should come every day around 1:00 am EDT. love u! <3