#fick figures red

[st1ckart1zt]

I wanted to draw something non Henry stickmin related post. I hope you like it

[astarothlover127]

You know what I love about sitri?

His anemia.

Like when I first figured it out, I was very happy(since I, myself have anemia. Like we’re anemia besties) but I also found it surprising, since anemia in males is extremely rare, like 2-12% in adult males rare.

In comic it’s said that if he were human, he would’ve already died makes lots of sense. From this information and yeah, the fact that Satan is a blood sucking demon, sitri has either acute anemia or iron deficiency anemia. Am not sure like I personally have iron deficiency anemia where the body lacks, you guessed it, iron. That type can go unnoticed for an extremely long time before it’s too late. (Speaking from experience) and that type of anemia occurs when the person does have enough iron to produce hemoglobin or red blood cells to carry oxygen to the body tissues (Satan is robbing sitri of his oxygen lol) The form of losing blood In Females is going on they’re period with is extremely common. (not so important but yeah). Iron deficiency anemia can be recovered by eating iron rich food which in his comic is said but since Satan drinks sitris blood almost every day, sitris condition worsens like everyday single day so those iron rich foods ain’t gonna help him.

(Now that I’m reading this it’s quite long and boring. It’s like the middle of the night and I’m hella bored out of my mind so anyways if any of my information is wrong or doesn’t sound correct feel free to let me know.)

I FUCKING LOVE DEVILS LINE OH MY FICKING GOSH I NEED A SECOND SEASON RIGHT NOWW

[lou-struck]

Bribery

Kei Tsukishima x reader College AU!

Prompt: study date +🍩

~Studying with Tsukki is hardcore, he always know just what to do to keep you motivated

WC: 2k

~This is one of the requested prompts for My Emoticon Expression’s Event; check out the masterlist on my welcome page

“You’re wrong; try it again.” Your boyfriend curtly says as he peers down at the study guide you have worked on for the last three hours. At times like this, you are thankful the two of you booked a private study room in the university’s library because you have not been watching your volume in the slightest. 

“Are you sure?” You sigh exasperatedly. “I really thought this one was gonna be right.”

“Well, it’s not; you need to go back and check your work.” He replies, sliding the paper back over to you; it is completely covered in angry red pen marks from his corrections. It’s a bit discouraging, but you know he is only being hard on you because he knows how badly you want to pass this class.

His features soften as he looks at you apologetically. “you’ve got this, just take your time and break down the problem into parts.”

“I’m just tired; my brain feels like it’s not working.” you sigh, rubbing your temples. “Maybe I should just accept that I’m going to fail and skip the other stages of grief.”

“Not going to happen,” he laughs, using his taped fingers to give your forehead a fick. It doesn’t hurt at all, but you and your dramatic self flinch and whine “Owww” just to get a rise out of him.

“Oh really?” he asks, looking down at you through his glasses, “if that hurts, just imagine how you will feel when you miss out on that internship you have been wanting due to your grades.”

You freeze; you have heard about the internship he had mentioned since freshman year of college. Not only is it a paid internship, but if you were to take it, you would get credit for about four classes that you need to graduate. If you miss out on this, you will probably regret it for the rest of your student life. “Why did you have to bring that up? Now I’m stressed, tired, and hungry.”

He looks at you with amusement; teasing you is one of the highlights of his day. “You’re hungry?”

You cross your arms over your stomach for effect, “Starved, haven’t you heard my stomach growling?”

“Over your whining?” he teases, raising a brow.

“I-it’s not funny,” you stammer, “this is a real predicament; I can’t study on an empty stomach; we may be here all day at this rate.”

He sighs, his golden brown eyes betraying a softness that tells you that you have won. “Fine, if you are sure this is the only way to get you to finish your worksheet, I guess I have no choice.” he relents, getting up from his seat at the table and grabbing his wallet out of his book bag. He turns and points at you strictly, “Stay right there, and If you are not done with that worksheet by the time I get back, I’ll just give it to someone else.” 

“Are you trying to bribe me to finish this worksheet?” you grin, giving him your best look of innocence that he doesn’t buy at all.

“Just get it done,” he says, turning towards the door and opening it quietly. 

“I love you,” you call after him. He smiles and turns to walk down the hallway; just before the door swings shut, you hear a chorus of sharps’ shhhhhhhh’s’ from the studying students from the other side of the library. It makes you chuckle to yourself as you stare down at your angry red-streaked paper and try to figure out what you did wrong in that last problem.

~

It’s only been about eight minutes since your boyfriend went to get you some fuel, and your stomach is busy grumbling the instrumentals of Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody. Your quiet study room is lonely, but you have managed to figure out what you had done wrong with the last problem, and to the best of your knowledge, it is correct this time. All you have to do is wait for Mr. Vanilla himself to come back and check over your work for you. 

Curiously you flip to the next page in your workbook; if you can bust through a few more problems before Kei gets back, it would mean that you can leave the library much sooner, and maybe the two of you can make it to the Jurassic Park movie marathon in the quad you had seen posters for. It would be such a great surprise to take him there after this is all said and done.

Buying him a large tub of popcorn is only one of the ways you are planning on thanking your Volleyball-playing s/o for taking so much time out of his busy day to help you study.

With sunset in about four hours from now, you return to your work; this deadline gives you a much-needed spring in your step as you begin to get back to work. 

~

The analog cock on the wall says that about another ten minutes have passed, and without your boyfriend’s presence, you haven’t been too motivated to finish any other problem other than the one he told you to do. They have been attempted, but you have only split the problems into smaller fragments so you can better understand them later, 

‘Maybe I should’ve taken better notes in class.’ you think to yourself when your boyfriend comes back into the study room. 

“Hey, you were gone for a while. Was the line at the cafe long?” you ask, tilting your head.

“In not heartless, you deserve something way better than the trash the cafe has to sell,” he says, stepping up to the table. The throw pillow-sized brown paper box in his hand just catches your eye when your nostrils are suddenly hit with a sweet and doughy smell that has your mouth watering. 

“I bet you’re wondering what is inside?” he smirks, placing the box on the table; you reach out for the strangely familiar scent only for him to push it further out of your reach. 

“Hey?” you whine. “Why did you have to do that?” 

“Ha, Let’s see your work first, then I’ll decide if you actually get to have any of this.”

“Jerk,” you huff, tearing your gaze away from the box to look at his face. A dark mole on the corner of his mouth catches your eye. Curiously, you lean in a bit closer and realize that it’s not a mole at all...

It’s chocolate!!!

“Wait,” you say softly, never taking your eyes off the little speck of fudge on his cheek, “is that frosting on your face?”

With his thumb, he wipes it quickly away; as he licks his thumb, he looks at you evilly, “What? Someone had to make sure they weren’t poisonous.”

You sigh and turn away from him, arms crossed and a pout on your lips. “Just look at my damn paper already.” 

“If you insist,” he grins, staring deep into your eyes. “Just know that if you take too long, your food will get cold.” The harmless threat shakes you down to the depths of your soul as he looks at you with gentle satisfaction. He slides the paper closet to him, and his eyes dart between your answer and your work before he looks up at you with a blank expression. 

You gulp nervously as you try and fail to read his expression. Mentally cursing the fact that Kei Tsukishima has one of the best poker faces you have ever seen. “So? What do you think?”

“I think,” he hums, reaching out towards the mysterious treat box with long arms. He rests his hand on top of it before sliding it across the table in front of you. “You got it right.”

Your chest heaves a deep sigh in relief. Unable to take the suspense any longer, you toss o[into the box to reveal dozens of little doughnut holes. 

Some look to be covered in glaze, chocolate, or frosting. While others look to be filled with various creams, jellies, or something else. 

“Doughnuts.” you cheer, picking a chocolate-covered sprinkle out of the box and plopping it into your mouth. The still-warm dough seems to melt on your tongue as the sugar makes you feel alive. 

As you savor the treat, he places some napkins in front of you. “Are you happy now?”

You nod and wipe your fingers with one of the napkins. “Extremely. What are all the flavors?”

“I dunno.” he says, “The shop was closing soon, so they just gave me a bit of everything for no charge.”

“That’s great; I can’t wait to find out,” you say, reaching for another donut hole only for it to be pushed out of your reach.

Upon seeing the look of confusion on your face, he laughs, “Did you really think it would be that easy? It’s a bribe.”

You look at the box longingly, “You don’t mean?”

“I do; every problem you get right, you get to have a piece. 

“You can be so cruel sometimes, Kei.” you sigh, earning a genuine smile from him, flipping to the next page; the little bits of work you had done earlier are starting to make more sense as you look flip between the notes Tsukki left on your other page and the fresh problems. 

“How are you doing?” he asks, looking over your shoulder,

“Does this look right so far?” you ask, pointing to the nearly complete problem. 

“It looks perfect.” he hums, glancing over it carefully. 

“Really?” you say with a light voice full of hope. Maybe the two of you will be able to make it to the Movie marathon after all. 

“Yep, just keep doing what you are doing.” he says, “I told you before that you know how to do this.”

Only because I have the best tutor in the world, “you hum cheesily, leaning in a bit closer to him. 

The tips of his ears turn pink at your world, and he looks at the box of donuts, “You’re not trying to get me to give you a donut early, are you?” he asks sarcastically.

“Nope, I want something else.” you hum, pushing yourself forward to catch his lips with your own. The kiss contains the lingering sweetness of the pastry you had just eaten, along with something a bit sweeter.

He kisses back far too eagerly for someone who had been relentlessly teasing you just a few moments ago. You pull back slightly and grin as he follows your lips stubbornly. 

“Do you think you’re being funny?” he asks, placing his hand on the back of your head to keep you close to him. 

“Just a bit; I have to tease you when I can since you are so good at teasing me.” you hum, giving him a devious smirk like the one he gave you earlier. 

“You’re such a pain,” he chuckles, gently retaking your lips. 

“But you love me,” you hum as he pulls away. A small smile tugs at his lips

“I do, which is why I can’t have you getting distracted,” he sighs, tapping your worksheet with his pen. “Let’s get back to work.

“You know, you could’ve just bribed me with kisses,” you tease, picking up your pencil. “They work just as well as the donuts.”

“Now you tell me,” he sighs. “If I knew earlier, I could’ve saved myself the effort of picking these up.”

“Nope, we need those too.” you laugh as you reach for the box. 

With a gently yet firm grip, he grabs your hand and shakes his head, “Not so fast; get that problem done, and then you can have one.”

“Come on, just one more?” you plead at him with big eyes, “I need all the help I can get if I want to finish in time.”

“Time for what?” he asks, raising a brow. “Did you really make plans after this?”

“Plans for us,” you say innocently. “Please?”

“Fine, just one more,” he sighs. “But then we have to get back to work.”

[dcptcnx]

Interrogation

pairing: könig x f!reader (fem bc the term ‘Fräulein’ is used to address as ‘Miss’)

word count: 1,715

warning(s): he hits reader once...but no major warnings. angsty to fluff? idk im bad at this

a/n: PHOTO CREDS TO THE AMAZING @ave661​ !! Such good renders !! I hope this turned out well..Trying to work on descriptiveness in writing to capture the aura of the story to paint images for people T^T feedback is appreciated ^

Being a soldier, to some, meant being strong; able to face dangers beyond the demands of the war. Even if part of a task force that delved into jobs that dirtied your hands with so much malice or distaste, you would leave the day feeling empty of who you really were. 

And if you were caught, sometimes your crew would forget you existed. Lie to the commanding general and say, "Sir/Ma'am, they are KIA. Mission is compromised." And with that, your ties to the force; identity, service, and even achievements, we're sometimes erased from existence, just like your physicality. 

But not your crew. No, the 141 refused to deem you KIA. They had every desire to look at every space in the world to locate your existence. Even if they died trying. You were their spirit, their lifeline. When they found out you were captured, it was like they lost their last bit of rations. Last bit of hope. 

Until Price and Ghost knocked sense into everyone. 

Which leads us to you. Captured. 

Hands cuffed behind your back, uniform tattered in areas, blood stained the collar as your face was practically bloodied and bruised. The soft flicker of the light source above you created an ominous aura in the room, casting dooming shadows by the guards standing watch, waiting for any sudden movements you may try. 

"Ahh, fräulein. Schön dich wieder zu sehen*, Lieutenant." A voice spoke out, not as evil as you thought, but had the capability to set someone straight with the right tone. "You just can't stay away from me, huh?" The figure stepped closer to your knelt position, looking down upon you through his sniper hood. Arms crossed tightly across his chest, before loosening to rest against his sides. 

"Fick dich*, König. You can't hurt me." The words snapped out of you with such hatred, you yanked on the cuffs to try and break loose, only earning a deep chuckle from the mountainous man. "Couldn't earn a spot on the snipers list, what makes you think you can get me." 

The comment angered König. He was still upset for being denied a sniper, but to hear it from you; to be REMINDED, even. It lights the fuse to a bomb within him. His fists clench so tight next to his thighs, before a hard sigh escapes his mouth, hands relaxing. 

"I'd watch that mouth of yours, Lieutenant. Oder ich sorge dafür, dass Sie nicht mehr sprechen können*." König stepped forward, right hand gently grasping your jaw before squeezing enough to make you wince in a pained manner. Harshly, he releases his hand, causing your head to be thrown to the side, red marks visible where his fingers clasped. 

"My men are well capable and can clear your existence from this very world. KorTac ist nichts ohne mich*." König squatted himself to meet you at eye level, crystal blue eyes staring daggers into your soul, a smirk forming under his hood awaiting your response. 

"Und du bist nichts ohne mich*, König. You fucking KNOW that." Your eyes narrow and keep locked onto the man in front of you. Your jaw tense, as you clenched in anger at the very mention of his force.

KorTac was a collective agreement between the two of you. You wanted an army, and König wanted reigns. To be honest, you teetered on the decisions of whether to follow König, or to go your own way. But deep down, you wanted freedom, and so you decided to end your side of the agreement, and joined the Task Force 141. 

And König was furious. 

"I was the one who pushed you to jump the ranks, König. Deine Existenz ist wegen mir hier*." Smirking, you started with such distrust, watching the man drop his head and clench his fists. 

"NEIN, FRÄULEIN!" His voice boomed through the room, metal doors reverberating the sound causing the guards to slightly wince. König took his right hand, and made contact with your cheeks, sending you to the floor, hissing through your teeth at the stinging. After a few seconds, he takes both hands and grabs the collar of your vest, yanking you up to meet his covered face. 

"You'd look so pretty wearing the KorTac insignia, Schatzi. Not that filthy 141…Verdammte Mischlinge*." Dropping you, he reached to the insignia on your vest and ripped it off, tossing it aside into the dark abyss of the room. 

Many moments pass of stagnant silence, your eyes watching carefully as the man paces across the room, muttering German to himself. You couldn't help but feel a twang of guilt, wondering what went wrong and how you could try to fix it. 

"What happened to you, König?" You softly spoke out, eyes still fixated on his every move. The man freezes at hearing your sweet words, only to let out a scoff before pacing once more. 

"Da ist nichts falsch*. Nein." König slightly faltered on the final words of his response, slowing his pacing before coming to a full stop facing towards one of the doors. "It doesn't matter anymore." 

"Yes it does. I know you, König. You still have your doubts." Your voice spoke up, not too loud to echo around the room, but loud enough to be heard by the tall man in front of you. "Es tut mir leid, dass ich nicht geblieben bin*…really." You yanked your hands, forgetting they were cuffed for a second, allowing the metal to clink together. "Schieße…"

"Here." König made a motion which the guards understood to exit the room, leaving the two alone. "Talk." 

A soft gulp, and you began to speak. Talked about why you chose the 141 in the end, why you hid it behind his back. As you spoke, he walked behind you, carefully removing the tight cuffs from your hands, letting you rub the markings left by them. 

"I was offered a higher rank than I was at the time. And I couldn't pass it up. Es tut mir leid*." You stood still, not trying to make any rash movements but you noticed König grabbing a metal chair and sitting in it, elbows perched on his knees. 

"I would've given you a better rank, Schatzi. Why?" His blue eyes captured your looming gaze, searching for a reason, only to sign heavily, hands grasping his helmet. You knew him to be very secretive about his physical identity, and you worried about how he was feeling in this moment, watching as his fingers gripped harder against the straps. "You could've been my precious Stellvertreter*." 

"König I-" you froze. You had nothing to really say. You wanted to be with him, wanted to help grow his newfound group. But you knew that nothing you'd say, would better him. 

You began to hear a soft click coming from his direction, catching the chin strap of his helmet hanging onto one side. Your eyes were widened, but carefully observed his every move as his hands reached under the hood and lift. Slowly, König removed his helmet, revealing his face to you. 

This man was beautiful. Perfectly pale skin, a dusting of light caramel freckles danced across his cheeks. His nose looked to be slightly larger than average, but still was in just the perfect spot to compliment the placement of his crystalline blue eyes. His hair was disheveled due to his helmet being worn at all times, but the dim lights within the room made it glow a beautiful bronze blonde, as it carefully stuck to his forehead. It looked as if he hadn't cut his hair any time recently, as it started to touch his ears, slightly curl on them. 

You could tell he was feeling very nervous, and anxious; a complete 180° from how he acted earlier on. The way his leg would slightly bounce up and down, like a metronome keeping tempo to his heart. His fingers tapped atop his knees, a soft gentle hum faintly being heard. Your eyes never looked away from him. Admiring the vulnerability he decided to show you after all those years. 

Your final destination was his face In whole. The plethora of scars he wore, probably with a story behind each one. You wondered how he endured each one, hand twitching wanting to ghost your fingers across each one, to show you still care for the man, even if on different squads. 

König saw you fight the urge to get up and approach him, through the corner of his eye. After internally going back and forth, he let out a soft sigh before standing up and walking closer to you. He sat across from you on the ground, legs crossed, eyes focused on your face. 

"I know your motive. Go ahead." He voice softly spoke, dipping his hands down to grab your digits and lead them towards his face. 

His face had a minute amount of Stubble on his chin, so barely visible as the color was almost a bleach blonde. He wore a scar that slashed across his chin; could be from the battlefield, or even a mishap on shaving. The thought of the latter situation made you give the tiniest of smiles, to which König's eyes locked onto your lips. He studied every crinkle you made when you smiled, the small dimple that would occasionally show up. 

"Du bist immer noch sehr hübsch, weißt du.*" He whispered as your fingers danced across his face, studying every scar. His eyes never once left your lips, awaiting for them to move once again. 

"König…" your voice wavered a bit, almost choked. You missed him, truly. Missed his softer side. Deep down you knew the tension of being on different units was breaking, but didn't realize how hard he took it. "You know I can't betray my men…" your right hand caresses his jawline, thumb rubbing circles against his cheek. 

"Unfortunately…" he sighed out, leaning into your touch. He knew that after taking you, the possibility of an allyship would be very small, but he held hope. "Vielleicht arbeiten wir eines Tages zusammen*."

You didn't know what came of you. Your body reacted before it crossed your mind, as you pulled his face down and placed a soft kiss against his cheek, below his eye. 

"Bitte haben Sie Hoffnung*, König." 

translations!!

"Ahh, fräulein. Schön dich wieder zu sehen, Lieutenant." ->Ah, miss. Nice to see you again, Lieutenant.

"Fick dich” -> Fuck You

“Oder ich sorge dafür, dass Sie nicht mehr sprechen können” -> Or I'll make you unable to speak

“KorTac ist nichts ohne mich” -> KorTac is nothing without me

"Und du bist nichts ohne mich, König.” -> And you are nothing without me, king

“Deine Existenz ist wegen mir hier.“ ->  Your existence is here because of me.

“Verdammte Mischlinge” -> Damn half-breeds (i put fucking mongrels but you know...)

"Da ist nichts falsch. Nein." -> There's nothing wrong. no

"Es tut mir leid, dass ich nicht geblieben bin.” -> I'm sorry I didn't stay

“Stellvertreter” -> Deputy (I was aiming for second in command but translations are wack tbh)

"Du bist immer noch sehr hübsch, weißt du.” -> You're still very pretty, you know.

"Vielleicht arbeiten wir eines Tages zusammen." ->  Maybe one day we'll work together.

"Bitte haben Sie Hoffnung, König." ->  Please have hope, king.

[thisisreal-right]

Figured I’d start posting some of my Ao3 fics here. Stedieeeee

July came quickly, descending with sticky clawed hands and air so thick it could be toffee. The smell of burning leaves under the laser sunlight filtered through an open window, and the buzzing of cicadas in the late summer soup followed.

It was far too hot to be outside, hotter in the trailer even with the window propped open on a fresh popsicle stick. With red fingerprints of sugar along the walls like a trail of breadcrumbs, the fan sliced the air, swinging around the humidity and flinging it across the room.

Sweat slicked foreheads were pressed against cool polyester pillows, jackets and jeans left in a clump on the floor and shirts hiked up to expose their backs to the sticky air. Their socked feet swung, careful not to touch in the electric heat, afraid of stroke and carefully strung tension.

The heat wave was an elastic band. It stretched across the entirety of June, and wrapped its rubber through to July. Carefully groomed green lawns had been bleached to straw by the sun, plants wilting like puppets cut from strings and curtains drawn against the penetrating heat.

Sunburnt cheeks and feet and backs were all hunched away, scrounging for sanctuary in four feet of water. Bodies flocked to the pool if only for a second of retribution and riddance.

Yet here they were. Maybe the only high school graduates not spending their time fruitlessly cooling off on beach chairs with fans and water guns. Instead, listening to the blades of the fan slice the air with the steady buzz of an ended cassette in the radio.

Neither boy moved.

Neither boy wanted to.

They had been reduced through weeks of heat to limbs in a lump on the bed. To sweat and sweet popsicles dripping down chins, to shaky smoke rings that smelled of skunk, to accidental hot boxes, and shitty shotgun attempts.

They held each other arms length in the heat, but danced together all the same.

The small fick of a lighter broke the silence.

“No stop. It’s too hot in here for that shit,” Steve bemoaned. He swung his hand through the air at the other, fingers grasping for the flame in hopes to extinguish it.

Eddie laughed.

“C'mon pretty… don’t you want this heat to be bearable?” He drew out the vowels, teasing.

Steve flapped a wrist, picking up his head and blinking.

“Then light it and we’ll smoke it quick. I mean it when I say it’s too hot.”

And so, king and jester spark up together in a fantastic turn of events.

The idea was almost laughable. Harrington and Munson braving the beast of summer heat together, sprawled in nothing but thin shirts and boxers, exposing miles of skin to the blistering heat. Oh, but what a picture they must make.

Steve flopped over on his back, running a hand through his sweaty hair as Eddie cupped the joint and flame with his hand.

Had they ever spoken throughout the four years of hell? Perhaps in passing. A brush of the shoulder, an “excuse me” in the halls. But this, this seemed intimate.

Steve retrieved the joint, nimble fingers bringing it carefully to his lips before he inhaled. He coughed a little on the exhale, wrinkling his nose against the smoke.

“Strong shit,” he remarked.

Eddie winked. “Only the best for you.”

The heat. The heat and the popsicle. That’s what caused the flush of Steve’s cheeks. Not the exposed back of Eddie’s neck, not the bun his hair had been thrown into. Not the corded necklace flopping against his collarbone, not the loose u of his neckline.

The heat.

The joint.

The popsicle.

And the wink.

He passed the joint back with, hopefully, a covering eye roll. Eddie only smirked, puffing away easily in haste to put out the tiny flame.

Steve watched as the smoke filtered out the propped window, watched the heat waves from the ground that wavered his vision. Watched as Eddie arched back his neck and blew a smoke ring into his ceiling.

“That was a good one, right?” Eddie asked excitedly as the smoke dissipated. Steve grunted and flopped back down from where he had been propped on his elbows.

“Didn't even see it,” he lied, plucking the joint from Eddie’s grasp. He reached over to ash it before taking another hit.

“Guess I’ll just have to try again then,” and he grinned. He grinned his sharp tooth, sweet and dangerous, venomous salve grin. That very one that Steve could never resist. So he grinned right back.

The smoke was heavy in the air, and so was Steve’s gaze. They had traded hits until it had burned down to the filter, before Eddie stubbed the joint out in its own ashes.

Groggily, Steve thought maybe that was irony in action. His brain moved on before he could pick that thought apart, though. He’d never been much good at English, and anyway, there were better things to focus on. More important things.

Like the freckles that speckled Eddie’s cheeks and nose bridge from the stagnant summer sun. Or the lethe line of his body as he sprawled in the sunset. Or that one curl that fell out of his bun and framed his face. Steve wanted to touch it. So he did.

He wrapped it around his finger, gently twirling it just to see it spin. He hooked his finger and tugged to watch the way Eddie’s head followed the movement.

Dark eyes traced his features and a pink flush rose high on Eddie’s cheeks. Steve liked that color. He wondered how he could see more.

“I guess you're more of a light weight than I thought, pretty, we’ve been smoking together for the past month and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so high.” Eddie’s voice rumbled deep in his chest, he leaned forward dramatically.

“Maybe I'm finally comfortable in the company,” Steve remarked, tilting his head away playfully. Eddie’s eyes lidded and slid down the line of Steve’s face to linger.

“Well, don’t we both just know,” Eddie leaned closer. “That that’s just bullshit.”

A slow smile slid across Steve’s face as he studied the enigma in front of him.

Sometimes, looking at Eddie was like looking in the mirror. Looking at a simple image of himself, similar and familiar but reflected, opposite. Eddie was quick to flame, the itch to run, to fight, to rally, swam just beneath his skin in the same way it bubbled under Steve’s. While both of them had embers that would engulf flame when introduced to kerosine, they seemed to soothe each other. Eddie fit. And Steve was tired of pretending otherwise.

Steve dropped his hand from the other's hair.

“Maybe I just want to be brave.”

Maybe I'm tired of drifting, of empty rooms and echo chambers.

Maybe I just want something that you seem to keep inside your chest.

Maybe I want to climb through this mirror, this useless sheet of glass and make home inside your chest with the shards.

Maybe I’m ready to be engulfed in flames.

Maybe I'm tired of dancing around the heat.

“That so,” Eddie whispered. He brought one finger up to tuck hair behind Steve’s ear. It burned. The heat was more than months without rain.

Steve’s eyes burned, from the smoke, from the overwhelming urge to communicate everything he wanted to say without having to say it.

“Maybe,” Steve murmured. His eyes caught the movement of Eddie’s tongue as it darted out to wet his bottom lip. He sucked in a breath. The air was heavy and hot, it blistered his lungs and watered his eyes. He flicked them up to meet Eddies, question pressed into the pupil.

Eddie shifted closer, just a fraction, and nodded.

Steve hadn’t realized how close the two of them had been until he went to close the gap. Their foreheads pressed, cherry popsicle fingers tangled in painful ways and Steve hovered, just there, just above Eddie’s lips. Steve was a rubber band stretched to its limit. When Eddie finally, finally, closed the gap, he snapped. His cracked mud and straw lawns sucked the rain down, thirsty. Sunburnt shoulders found refuge from the sun under rolling storm clouds, and blue skies rumbled with heat lightning.

Finally, finally, Eddie was his.

And the heatwave finally broke.

[w0rldly-oyster]

AHHHHHH I have so much to do and so little time. My father will not do my CSS profile despite me freaking out and asking him to do it bc I want to get my result from CWRU on the day I’m supposed to even though I like 100% got rejected. Ugh but the fact that they’re asking for it made my mom say I prob got an interview even though I def didn’t and that’s like giving me false hope. I don’t want to deal w disappointment again so soon I alrdy cried over Rochester bc I was freaking out that I won’t get in anywhere 😭😭😭 and I have to do my court cases project and solo and ensemble is on Saturday and I have to practice singing for my class on Sunday and current events project due Monday and SSA due feb 1st and like every decision I care abt besides the Ivy ones are coming out next week/ in the coming weeks and I have to figure out wtf is going on with the uv might trying and do MATH bc we have to have all the info by Monday so we can get our video ready and we’re getting assigned seats in ipr which means I can’t sit next to my new #bestie who GHOSTED me for literally no reason omfg I can’t be making enemies this soon to the end of the school year not when I have sixty billion other things. I also have smth else on Sunday I forget what it is tho. It’s important I think. AND MY BAND DRESS DOESNT FIT ANYMORE SO IDK WHAT IM GOING TO WEAR ON SAT. Maybe if I like don’t eat breakfast it’ll fit?? Ugh why didn’t I get a size up why did I think I’d stay at that size for the rest of my life like my chest wasn’t done growing yet what was wrong with me. I’ll have to wear a ficking compression top underneath just to get it to fit probably god why did my **** get bigger without my consent and I’m turning 18 soon except my vote doesn’t matter at all bc I love in the reddest of red states and my relatively liberal city couldn’t even elect more than One democrat to our city council. I need to find black dress pants and think about a prom dress and figure out how to be a normal conversationalist soon bc at lunch today this girl was like trying to engage in conversation with me but I had no idea what to say to continue it!!! And it was fine but I sounded uninterested and she’s nice and she showed me prom dress pics on her phone ugh. This is turning into the type of rant I used to post on my spam cf so small that no one could read it with like a crazy girl song (but incredibly basic bc I have no music taste) in the background but tbh this is more cathartic. And all I did today was pick my brother up go to subway and sit at work for 20 mins bc my studnet didn’t even show up. Oh well easy $15 I guess. I def could’ve gotten things done but I just. Didn’t. There are other things due soon as well I believe oh I was forgetting abt the calc project. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahxhdijsiwndjclwnfodjdjdnfjffn

[yenslilac]

I'm seeing so many Missandei posts right now.. and I'm just so sad. I feel it is still not comprehended how disgusting her death was. It was never shown on screen, but Missandei's home was burned and she was taken away and physically and sexually abused. If she was the same age as Dany, this woman was chained and assaulted for more than 10 years. She died to serve a misogynistic plot point, in chains. While "Dracarys" was powerful, truly, we didn't hear her. No I love you to Grey Worm or Dany. Her last proper spoken words - not including the last one line - were about her home. How she wanted to go back. D&D killed the only woman of colour, an abuse survivor, a survivor of slavery, in chains, after she talked about going home.

The mere fact that her position as the singular woman of colour on the show, getting killed is misogynistic and racist. Her death was unnecessary. yes, GOT built a reputation for giving zero ficks about your feelings, but even the Red Wedding massacre had a purpose- to show the consequences of Robb's mistakes and on a more mechanical level, remove another King. Missandei's death made no sense because there was no reason for her death, other than to make Dany mad, but really, that could have gone any other way. Because yes, pretty much every recurring/significant character died for a reason. Every. One. This is misogynistic and racist because why should she die? There is no reason, no explanation for her death other than fridging (look it up or ask me, I don't want to go into it here) which is inherently misogynistic, and her status as the lone woman of colour dying for no reason..... figure it out for yourselves people.

Missandei's ending could have gone any other way. She was a significant enough character with a goal to deserve a proper ending to her arc. But D&D chose to kill her in a lazy ignorant way. Nathalie deserved so much more, the female/non-white fans of the show deserved so much more.

[fanboytrashfire]

Brand new baby girl

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE BE 18+, HEED TAGS/WARNINGS THANK U

Billy Hargrove/male reader

A/N: cannot stop thinking about Billy and how he looked at the pool, and I just HAD TO write about it

Word count: 1291

Warnings: smut, gay pairing

Summary: reader had a cruch on Billy for awhile, and come to the pool just to check him out. Little did you know, he's been checking reader out as well

Read on AO3

“You’re here again?” your sisters annoyed voice spoke from above you. You lied on the poolside on top of a red towel.

“It’s fucking hot,” you said with a voice of equal as much annoyance, “plus I get to embarass you,” your gaze landed on Heather and you gave her a wicked smile. She just rolled her eyes at you.

You lay your head back down on your arm, your eyes closing. But then you decided to sneak a peek at one of the other lifeguards. His shift had just started and that was one of the reasons you were even at the pool to begin with. He was serious eye candy. 

Billy was seated in his high chair, watching people like a hawk watching for prey to attack. He looked over at where the moms were, they were literally drooling after him. You looked too and the entire scene made you giggle to yourself.

You felt your skin starting to itch, shit. You knew it had been a bad idea to leave the sun screen at home. You decide it was enough sun for today, even though it was super ficking nice to just lie there. 

Wow, you’re lazy. But you fight the urge to stay and get up off the ground. Wouldn’t want to look like a lobster, burnt to a crisp. 

You swiped your hand through your hair and headed towards the changing rooms. Only you noticed a bump in the road, a hindrance if you will. On the way you had to go to enter the changing rooms stood the reason you were there. Billy was talking to Karen Wheeler. She looked bomb as fuck, and Billy was eating it all up.

You weren’t stupid, you knew she came to the pool for the same reason you did. She dressed up for him, a lot of the middle aged women  that came to the pool did. It was actually really gross, they were all married and had kids.

As you got closer to where the pair were standing you could low key hear their conversation. They were flirting. Billy knew how to play the game well. He knew how to play the ladies’s strings. You scanned Billy’s face, tried to act casual even though you wished it was you that Billy was flirting with.

You were passing him, your arm nearly touching his, and then he looked up. Billy looked straight into your eyes and it was like time slowed down. Everything went in slow motion and he was staring and you notice the slight upturn of Billy’s lips.

You looked away, face bright red and mind completely blank. You could hear your heart pound in your ears. You kept walking and it was like your body was on auto-pilot. It felt almost like you were actually walking one step behind your own body. 

As you entered the changing rooms you removed your bathing shorts fairly quickly and jumped into the showers. The water burnt a little on your back but you ignored it. Guess it won’t be no time in the sun tomorrow.

You finished showering, figuring you would wash properly when you got home instead. Privacy was a problem at a public pool. You grabbed your towel and wrapped it around your body, then headed to fetch your clothes. You didn’t wipe your hair properly and it dripped all over your shirt but, whatever, you’d change later.

You made sure all your stuff was in your bag and went to leave.

Your heart almost lept out of your throat as someone grabbed your arm. Your head turned to tell whomever to fuck off, but stopped yourself when your eyes came in contact with blue ones. Billy. Before you even got the chance to speak you were pushed up against the wall, a hand covered your mouth.

“Sshh,” Billy’s face was almost touching yours. Damn, his eyelashes are really long, and are those freckles? Billy had your hands against the wall beside either side of your head, he looked into your eyes again.

“Why would you do this to me?” he asked, you were confused. “Why would you walk around in those tiny bathing shorts, teasing me like this? In front of all those people, no less?” you wanted to retort but your mouth was unable to form words. You just stared at him.

His lips slightly brushed against your jaw and you sucked in a breath. “Wanna feel what you do to me?” Billy moved one of your hands down until your knuckles brushed something stiff and you realised it was his dick. Billy was hard.

“I’ve noticed that you come here a lot,” Billy placed full kisses on your throat, “I’ve also noticed that you like to stare when you think I’m not looking.”  You felt his tongue, you moaned. “It burns my skin whenever your eyes are on me.”

Billy moved your hand inside his bathing shorts, you placed your hand around his hard-on on your own, now it was his time to moan. And he did, and it was the sexiest sound you’d ever heard. 

He moved his other hand from holding yours to the wall and moved it down slowly. He unbuttoned your denim shorts and slid his hand inside to wrap his fingers around you. You were hard too. 

Billy stroked you, you felt your knees buckle and if it wasn’t for Billy standing there supporting you you definitely would’ve fallen on the tile floor. You placed your free hand on his shoulder for support. 

The other boy stepped even closer to you and touched his dick with yours, he then wrapped his hand around both your lengths, and stroked. You heard Billy’s breath quiver, it was hot against your ear. It occurred to you then that anyone could walk in on you guys and see your indiscretion, but for some reason you didn’t fucking care. 

You were getting close, and Billy could tell from the whimpers escaping your mouth. By the look of Billy’s face, he was close too. He’d stopped mouthing at your neck, a look of regret passed over his face and for a second you thought Billy would stop altogether.

Then he bent down, and with absolute care placed his lips on yours. It was like he asked for permission. A surge of courage took a hold of you and you reached your face up and placed your lips in his instead.

His tongue was so hot. You submitted as his tongue dominated yours.

“You close?” he asked. Billy’s voice was husky, it made a tingle travel along your spine. You were making him like this. You nodded. “Me too,” he added.

You came first, spraying Billy’s hand with your cum. You tried to be quiet, and buried your face in Billy’s shoulder to make sure no one heard. Moments later, Billy climaxed.

The two of you stood there for awhile, both trying to collect your breathing. Then Billy did something that left you in awe. Billy got down into a squatting position and then he began licking your mess up. All you could do was stand there against the wall and simply stare. 

Holy smokes!

Billy got up. He licked his lips erotically while at the same time looking you in the eyes. He closed the zipper on your pants and made you look presentable.

“I have close up today, come back here then,” Billy spoke up. He straightened himself up to return to work. “I’ll be here waiting,” he fluffed up his curls. Goodness, this boy was dreamy. 

He smiled at you, a sense of promise in his eyes. He wasn’t finished with you. Billy walked out, and after a second, so did you.

[lloydsluck]

Crow’s Feet

Prelude

Ever looked at something that’s so fundamentally flawed, so bad in design, form and function, it’s actually intriguing. Like a botched piece of taxidermy or a first attempt at a short novel. A piece of work that was probably not half-assed but whole-heartedly assed with good intention and it would be insulting to the creator to jokingly ask did you write this story as if you’re the old piece of gum stuck underneath a Grade 8 English Lit student desk?  With no light, sense of tense, or spellcheker? The stereotypes and bad similes cause eye rolls so

 far back into one’s head it’s like… well it’s hard to think of a comparison here, so count yourself lucky. Not to mention the ADHD diversions, talking about mounting dead animals in one sentence quickly sidestepping to self-awareness of this piece of literature. I digress. When last did you see a questionable piece of art that you found beautiful? So bad, it’s great. So useless and time-wasting, it’s what you’ll think about ironically one day on your deathbed. Because heck… made you look. 

The Incision 

1

Mondays. The start of a new week. New opportunities for a new you. A fresh squeeze of hope that things will get better served with a side of “I can change” attitude. And no matter how many Mondays we have, (4 187 to be precise, if you, like the average human being will live to 79), you will wake up to the same old boring Monday, every week, the same way. 

Each one with a long dreary stretch and sigh, heavy eyes, telling yourself that you will make the most out of this week. But you won’t. Because laziness is time consuming and you don’t actually have anything else to do, really. 

However, on this particular Monday, which was Fick McOwen’s 2226’s Monday, things were different. 

Fick woke up with the dreadful sensation of drowning. Sinking deep in a casket of darkness. As he gulped in a breath of thick air, it tasted of rotten cabbage coating the back of his throat. Blind and bewildered, sharp metal sounds scratched close above his head. The sound stung his eardrums and made him cock up his forehead banging it hard against a flat surface.

‘Jeeezus fuck’, he hissed. 

With no sense of time and space, his ears were ringing overcharged electric chimes in his head which felt cracked and ready to explode like a reactor in Chernobyl. He took a few minutes to try and calm himself. No good ever came from a panic attack in closed confines with a possible concussion. He finally raised his hands to his chest and did what most drunks do the minute they wake up, pat themselves down and check their underwear.

*

One week earlier.

2

If she was just a bit nicer, Jeffrey thought, she may have already had a proper and dignified burial for her husband. Stomping up and down a room that looked like it was decorated for a five-star hotel in Vienna, the newly-widow’s bony figure moved fast from left to right like a rabid old fox prowling a fence. For Jeffrey, her unwanted but needed bodyguard/help/punching bag, she was Hitler’s sphincter. She sparked fear in him and tightened his nerves with her demanding presence. Like a screwdriver twisting and turning into soft wood. A reaction he despised about himself. It ruined many good days. Sunny days and days like today. 

Watching her from the corner of the large room, she attempted phone call after phone call, shouting at poor bastards who made the simple mistake of answering their phones that day. 

Wanting to disappear he closed his eyes and listened to every passive-aggressive step she took in the room. He liked to tell when she walked on the tiles or the bear rug; it was a fast tac tac tac womp womp womp womp tac tac womp womp…then nothing. He opened his eyes and with a fright found her standing right in front of him, steaming red with anger.

Her greying blonde hair was fastened in a tight pincushion on top of her head. This pulled back her frail white skin that held everything in place. Face to face, he couldn’t help but stare at the permanent makeup she had done on the lower lids of her eyes and on top of her brows. It was starting to fade and as a result, it looked like she put eyeliner on days ago and never washed it off. 

Her stare was cold and deadly like an overworked mortician’s. It complemented her daily outfits of thin grey pencil skirts and matching suit jackets. She had her name embroidered on the inside of the neckline since all of her clothing was specially washed and pressed at a local laundromat. One that she owned of course. 

Margaret. 

That’s what her husband used to call her. Or Margarine, Margie, or Macaroon. She would always remind whoever was listening that she was actually named after Princess Margaret, Countess of Snowden. If you had to look her up, you would see the uncanny similarities between the two women. So much so, that Jeffrey often wondered if they weren’t related. Considering how much of a royal bitch she was.

Nevertheless, he had to call her Mrs. Ergo. And he preferred the kind request from John Ergo, her late husband, since he didn’t think she would have liked the names he had listed for her in his head anyway. 

She snapped back up and walked across the room towards the large oak desk that faced the gigantic windows that looked out onto their garden. Their Ergo-Eden. With a deep sigh, he sat up straight and smoothed back his black hair that was styled according to an old Italian mobster he saw in a film when he was 15. 

“It’s all in the confidence of smoothing the wax over your hands first and then through your hair.” That’s what the old man said to his fellow pasta slurping, red-wine drinking, two hits a week gang that sat around a checkered table talking about the importance of looking respectable, no matter what the job. And this was what he told himself in the bathroom mirror every morning, (impersonating a very bad Italian accent of course) while he prepared for his day. 

Apart from the respectable hairdo, Jeffrey was built like a small bull with a refined jawline. At first glance one would imagine he spends his days lumberjacking in the forest; but instead of plaid shirts, he was forced to wear black on black as per ‘management’s’ request. 

He refocused his attention on her and as foul as she was acting that day, somewhere deep inside him, he felt sorry for her and her loss. His face twitched as he clenched his jaw trying to shape compassion on his face, but feared he looked more like a constipated clown trying to keep his cool. He was given cards once with all the different faces and expressions on it. Ironically, the illustrations looked like they were drawn by an autistic robot with no emotion nor artistic talent (it was), but it helped him deal with different people. Lines that came down the forehead with no teeth, meant anger or disappointment. Teeth showing meant they were happy – or about to bite you. 

Margaret often made faces Jeffrey couldn’t place on his cards and her teeth always had some lipstick stains on it, which quite frankly, just distracted him altogether. 

He watched her go down a list of names and numbers, furiously scratching them out when the call didn’t go as planned. Eyeing the last name and number on the list, she picked up the phone and started dialing. 

3

Fick carefully pulled the skin up the neck and then over the top of the head, trying his very best to keep his hand steady. He wore magnifying goggles that pushed his choppy brown hair up toward the ceiling and enlarged his olive-grey eyes. It looked like the head of a praying mantis was stuck on a lanky man's body who dressed as if he found a discarded box of 80s band shirts and never bothered to wear anything else again. 

'There.' He said as he lifted his hands and inspected the bird-like shape that was coming together in front of him. 

In the back of the garage-turned-workshop, a small radio was trying to hold itself together while Henry Rollins tore away at its speakers. The music filled the room and gave Fick the ability to concentrate. Nothing else was audible. Not a phone or a thought could break his focus. 

And it paid off; the crow started to take a lively shape, fast. All it needed were the eyes and some beak touch-ups and this bad boy was ready for some teenager's window sill.

Fick lived in Long Fountain, a small town where the kids were either into wrestling, the backyard kind, or satanism – also the backyard kind. This meant there were a lot of goth-like metalheads who gave themselves names like Agares and Forneus and hung outside the grocery store to smoke cheap cigarettes they bummed off the shop clerk. They would wear black makeup and dangle fake blood vial necklaces around their necks. Some would even proudly claim that they spray-painted hale satin on the backside of the church announcement board. To top off their rebel-without-a-cause-and-lack-of-basic-grammar-look, these kids would own a taxidermied crow on their windowsills, just for that extra edge. 

“It’s a phase” most parents would say, but Fick couldn’t care less. He got fifty bucks out of it, liked the work, and asked no questions. 

As a self-employed middle-aged Taxidermist, he could work from home and at his own pace. Something he considered to be more valuable than a performance bonus cheque at the end of a year after slaving away in a badly lit office desk from nine to five, five to seven days a week.

He didn’t necessarily consider himself a hermit, but he did prefer his own company with the exception of a few selected people – very selected and very few. This was a choice he made unapologetically clear to others who wanted to befriend him for no real reason. When presented with this frankness, they would awkwardly laugh it off and insist he’s just a fun and sarcastic guy. He despised those people the most. 

Furthermore, Long Fountain was a small enough town for the nosy types to know everyone and their business, while still quiet and sparse enough for others to embrace the privacy of the town’s border. If you had to take a drone shot from high above, the edge of the town looked like it disappeared into the desert like an ocean of drought that spilled into a suburb. Fick could never figure out why they called it Long Fountain though, as there wasn’t even a lake or river anywhere near them. But he liked it there and he appreciated the colourful desert sunsets that could be found if you were at the right place at the right time.

The only other peculiar thing about the town was that there was an abnormally large crow population, which he didn’t mind because it meant more product for him. That, and an abnormal amount of  old age homes. 

He gripped the tweezer handle between his teeth while he carefully glued the last soft tiny black feathers to the rim of the beak; he tended to hold his breath during these final touches. While the song came to a screeching halt, the ringing of his cell phone surfaced through all the noise and concentration. 

‘Fuck!’ He spat out the metal twangs, pulled off the goggles and flipped his phone over to reveal four missed calls from an unknown number in town. He was about to throw the phone over his shoulder onto a once purple–now grey–couch, when the screen lit up again with the same number flashing. 

‘Hello’ he answered casually trying to simmer down. 

‘Hello, is this Fick McOwen?’ A sweet lady’s voice kindly asked on the other side. 

‘Yes, how can I help?’

‘I’m looking for someone who can help me with a,’ she paused for a second,  ‘stuffing job?’ 

‘Well ma’am, I do all kinds of taxidermy. We don’t call it stuffing though, rather mounting,’ he smirked. ‘Anything from crows, bucks, ducks, even your pet poodle.’ He stared at the one-eyed crow that was perched up in front of him. 

‘What is your rate?’ She calmly inquired. 

‘It depends on the job. Small birds and animals start at thirty bucks, and then it can go up to a couple of thousand for a full deer, buck or elk.’ 

She went quiet on the line. He could tell she was busy writing something down, possibly a calculation. He hated long silences, it gave him indigestion.   

‘What would you like to have mounted?’ He nudged, just to check that she was still there. She remained quiet. 

‘Hellooo?’

‘Ten thousand.’

‘Excuse me?’ He quickly asked to confirm that he probably misheard.  

‘Ten. Thousand.’ She repeated sternly. 

‘Ma’am. What do you want to have done?’ His stomach started to tie knots of doubt, anticipating a job he may not be able to do. 

‘I prefer a private meeting to discuss this further.’ Her tone suddenly changed from a sweet old lady to an office crank complaining it’s cold. He hesitated for a second. Feeling his gut whisper all tales of caution to avoid this type of interaction. “If it’s too good to be true…” he would always remind himself. 

But…then again...

The ten thousand dollars started to swim through his mind like a beautiful woman in a red bikini, blowing kisses from a crystal blue pool. Caught in the moment, he impulsively replied, ‘Okay.’ She quickly confirmed that her people will be in contact with his people and disconnected before he could even take a breath to say he doesn’t have “people”. 

Confused about the call and left with nothing to follow up with, he decided to write it off as another crazy old lady from one of the care homes who got hold of the nurse’s office phone. Eyeing the cotton-eye-crow, he proceeded to hit play on his stereo, threw his mobile on the couch and stuck the tweezers back in his mouth to finish the job.

NEXT CHAPTER COMING SOON

[toxicxxmyth]

Dating Christopher Vélez headcanon

Authors Note: Don’t know if I rlly have to mention this but I called Chris a fuckboy in this like 20+ times so don’t be offended m8 and just like Richards, this is all over the place

Richard‘s headcanon

Christopher has mentioned many many MANY times that he is not looking for a relationship

My man is getting that good good PussAy ;))))))

And he ain’t looking for no commitment :(:

We stan a fuck boy ;)

So it probably took him like three encounters to notice you

The first time was at a house party and y’all talked for like five seconds and then went your separate ways

You remember him

He didn’t even remember your hair color lol

The second time was also at a party

You were looking for your car keys but you spotted the cute guy you talked to for like a second

So you asked if he’d seen your keys like a fkn dumbass

And he was like “nah m8 😔”

And you were like “aight 🤘😔”

And he thought you were hot so that’s a start

Then the third time was also another party

And then y’all saw each other again and made a convo this time

He for sure remember you this time cause he wasn’t as tipsy as before

Lol

So that’s how y’all met

But just like Richard

It took this boy a long time to actually get his shit together and be like

“I actually like this girl”

Ya feel?

But you already liked him

But you understood his position

You were actually grateful that he didn’t just agree to go out with you if he wasn’t certain about you

It saved you the heart break

But after many MANY months

He gave in, and he was grateful for your patience

Anywhore

Now to the headcanon of dating the Ecuadorian fuck boy who we love

There is never a day where you’re bored

He’s always got something planned for the day

Lazy days are superior tho

His laugh could cure your acne, sadness’s and anxiety

Thank God he laughs every damn day

HE WILL FOR SURE TEACH YOU HOW TO SKATEBOARD

And if you already know how to skateboard then y’all will ride together like actual goals

He goes all out when it comes to dates

Will take you to the most expensive restaurants in the area

For sure will buy you a fancy ass dress

I highly believe that out of all the members he’s the one who’ll spoil you the most

Like fuck

It’s a lot

When he’s away on tour he’ll have a bIG ASS bouquet of flowers sent to you or chocolate

Will surprise you jewelry, food, clothes aNYTHING

you’ll have to remind him that he doesn’t have to do any of that but he insists on doing them bc he loves spoiling you sm

Yet when you return the favor by buying him something small he’s all like

“:0 thIS IS TOO MUCH, AMOR”

and you’re like “???? Khe ???”

For sure will teach you Spanish if you don’t already

Staring by cuss words ofc :’)

Whenever y’all go to the club he always comes up to you like you’re a stranger or smth

“I'm new in town. Could you give me directions to your apartment?” ;)

“ChRisssss”

He’d try this the whole night making random guys come to your “rescue”

Chris is laughing his ass off while you calmly tell them that it’s just your bf

He doesn’t seem to be the jealous type

He’s v confident that u love him and only him

Which is true

It takes a lot in him to get jealous

But when he does

OOFFF

You better be scared

He never takes it out on you, just the guy who seemed to cross a boundary that Chris drew in his imagination

You’re the one who gets jealous easily for sure

SO MANY PRETTY FEMALES THROWING THEMSELVES ON HIM MAKES YOU SEE RED

But he always shows you that you’re the only one he wants if you know what I mean ;)

Honestly, y’all don’t even cook, just order a shit ton of food while watching movies or the both of you just work on your individual projects

If you ever get stressed over work or a project from uni hes always there

Softly rubbing your shoulder as he presses kisses soft kisses along the shell of your ear sending shiver down your spine as you relaax

It might lead to ;) or it could end in you cuddling until you get your mojo back

The sEX is bOmB bTw ;))))))))

Like, this dude is so into overstimulation and subspace that he’ll have you c*mmimg multiple times a night :):

Ooff

Edging is suCH a big turn on for this boy

Y’all fuck like rabbits no doubt

Public sEx is definitely HIS thing

Expect a quickie after each show in his dressing room when you visit him on tour ;)

Anything you do is such a turn on for him

You literally make him feel like a hormonal teenager again

I’m 92% sure this boy will cry one tour bc he misses you sm

Which leads you to surprising him on the other side of the world

Which he is super grateful for :’)

And then y’all have some bomb sex cause y’all a bunch of sex addicts m8

Whenever he feels down he just rests his head on your boobs and wrap his long arms around your body

You let him rant as much as he wants

And somehow you know whether or not he wants advice or just someone to listen

vice versa

Now imma be 100% honest

Don’t @ me

I feel like it’ll take such a long time for Chris’s mother to actually like you

He’s such a mommas boy that just seeing him with another woman might make her skeptical

Ooff I’m crossing dangerous grounds here

He’s siblings and grandmother automatically loved you, but his mother was distant

Christopher has to have a heartfelt conversation with her about it beCAUSE HE LOVES YOU SM AND HE NEEDS THE WOMAN OF HIS LIFE TO ACCEPT THAT

This lowkey makes you feel like an intruder

You feel as if you’re ruining their relationship

But you’ll also have a heartfelt convo with her and at the end of the day y’all would get along once she sees how much you love and care for her son

It probably took a year for y’all to move in together

But when you do, y’all have even more fun and adventures than before

Y’all goals asf

Most of his ig stories are about you

Videos, promoting your posts etc the whole package deal

Subtle matching tattoos

You say “I love you” first and he’s all blushy and giggle which makes you all bullishly and giggly as well :’)

And y’all just make love as he repeats the words and over and over :’)

He always has his hands around your shoulder

Pulling you closer at the most random times

HUGS EVERYWHERE MAN

Omfg this man smells like christmas heaven

Just like his mom, your family wasn’t certain about him first

And by your family i mean your dad(or male figure if you’re dadless :’)

Making him sad

But you’ll do your best to convince you dad that he is a good guy wHICH HE IS!!!!

After a while, he gave Chris a shot

And that’s all you ask for Tbfh

Will subtly mention you in interviews which would cause the guys to give each other knowing stares

Just Like Richard, you receive hate after hate

BUT YALL FICKING TOO HARD TO NOTICE!!

It sometimes gets to you but Chris is always there to comfort you

Making you go all uwu

He goes full mom mode whenever you get sick

Will google your symptoms

Lowkey has a mental breakdown when google tells him that you only have two weeks to live lol

He later calls his mom and she tells him what he should do

Will try to help you with your work but he just gives you a look and gives tf up

Soft hours late at night

You guys talk about your future and marriage and kids and it just lives you all soft and warm inside

Little did you know that he feels the exact same

You’d be in his arms slightly leaning against the headboard as your dress hands play with each other fingers talking about nothing and everything

Sings to you whenever you have trouble sleeping

THE GUYS LOVE YOU

Did I mention that? Lol

Just like any new friendship

Y’all were awkward at first but after a few minutes of getting to know each other they all loved you

Especially Erick, that boy is your child and you will protect him from any danger in the world lmao

That’s it my ppl :’)

Deuces once again :’)🤙🏼

[aashiqeddiediaz]

9-1-1 Season 3 Episode 12 Live Blog

TRIGGERS IN THIS EPISODE: HATE CRIMES, please be careful 🥺

IT’S STARTING

I get to watch it live today because my work closed xD so YAY. I get to watch my babies liveeeeee

They thanked first responders 😫😫

these two idiots agains.

THROWBACKKKKK to these fools

Why don’t they ever learn.

disaster ensues even with all these promos.

naturally, it’s on fire.

Holy hell

POOR GUY “I need new friends”

OKAY

BUCK AND JOSH? okay I am a whole hearted Buddie stan but I would not be opposed?

So basically Buck isn’t just straight. Not gonna make assumptions but that’s pretty clear from no one’s reluctance to Buck and Josh’s relationship ALSO Maddie would totally set her brother up.

I knew it. Buck sucks at poker. But why the dramatics.

Dramatic little bby.

Parent-teacher conferences kill. As someone who’s been in that teacher role?

oh god, this happened again. The teacher love? I saw that coming? Why do they do this to all single parents

I’m Carla in this situation, up until they left the school.

YES. YOU ARE RAISING A GENIUS. WHO IS THE LIGHT OF MY LIFE. CHRISTOPHERRRRRRR

Eddie omg holy shit no stop. 

okay I actually like this teacher. But get Eddie’s claws out of her.

Joan? Tf?

I have no words for this bullet-embedded-for-3-months-emergency. As an anatomy TA, I’m still trying to figure out how that bullet didn’t hit her sinuses (veins that drain the deoxygenated blood in your brain)

THE SKATEBOARD. Eddie is so done and I kinda saw it coming that he would flip out on the English teacher.

THE PROTECTIVENESS.

Also but that shirt looks gorgeous on her.

CHRISTOPHER MY BABY. He’s so hurt 😭😭😭

EDDIE’S FACE this entire conversation just broke my heart. He wants to protect his son but doesn’t want to tell him about the limitations and I’m-

The heartbreak in his expression just slayed me.

Carla is so right, I missed her. And Josh.

JOSH IS DATING AGAIN.

“Actual sentences with grammar and punctuation” is my new standard.

Josh and Maddie are amazing as friends.

I have no idea what’s going on here, are these dating app horror stories accurate (gotta gear it from real people)

Gary is trying so hard omg 😭

She’s really about to jump out of the window to escape this horrifying incident? that’s me.

Someone stop me from thirsting after Oliver.

this should not be that hot. Eddie testing his chin on the window frame tell him to stop being so cute.

BUCK THAT SLIP OF TONGUE 😭😭😭

These two are goals.

Buck just accidentally telling everyone Eddie’s dating history I hate this. Man just date him already.

SO BASICALLY. Eddie tells Buck everything? Or did Buck get the tea from Carla.

Imagine Buck and Carla just spilling the tea about everyone in their life with a special emphasis on two certain Diaz boys

BUCK AND BOBBY SMILING IN THE BACK?

THIS CONVERSATION. I think I’m going to die. Buck! why is my clown brain saying Buck researched this specifically for Christopher

How many times have I mentioned how much I love Buck’s apartment? 🥺🥺

Athena and Michael’s banter 😭😭😭

Athena is the strongest woman in this show, closely followed by Maddie, Hen, Karen, May.

JOSH’S DATE this is so creepy. There’s a red flag right here.

This just got really damn dark

DAMMIT HOW DARE YOU TOUCH JOSH. HOW FICKING DARE. I JUST PAUSED MY LIVE TV COMPLETELY. HOW TF DARE YOU.

I’m tossing hands.

The real fool is the one who thought it’d okay to make Josh the victim of a hate crime 🥺🥺🥺

a Lone Star ad?

This probably hit Maddie hard in the heart.

Officer Branford...where have we seen her before?

Josh 😭😭 i want the show to show his mental recovery. Please.

What is this narrating voice in the background?

I hate the whole “you’ve never worked a day in your life” if someone runs a household instead of an outside job they get a salary for

It comes right back to the husband 💀

There is an overuse of the word “fool” in this episode, just like an overuse of the phrase “seize the day” last episode

I almost can’t stand it, even though this is my favourite show on this planet.

Eddie navigating this conversation :( he’s such a good dad. I clearly remember my dad doing this

Why do I have this horrible narrating thing, is this everyone?

Oh nevermind, my video description turned on.

LOVE THY NEIGHBORS MY DUDES

BUCK AND EDDIE HELPING CHRIS AND CARLA FILMING IT I WOULD LITERALLY DIE FOR THIS FAMILY IN EVERY WHICH WAY I would literally die for this family (i had to say it twice.) 

watch us buddie clowns unite

I KNEW IT. my theory wAS CORRECT.

I’m a genius that concludes this liveblog good night.

[rosegoldquintis]

Bookstores & Cigarettes

Paring: Calum Hood x Reader

Warnings: Cheating, smoking, alcohol, break up, swearing, self doubt  mentions of sex? shity writing, attempted angst

Word count: 3k?????

A/N: This is the longest fick I’ve ever written and idk how I feel about that! But I am kinda proud of this so let me know what you think!

Also, I was planning on posting this on my birthday which is on Tuesday so you got this a couple of days in advance:D 

She brought the cigarette up to her lips wondering how she ended up here. She usually never went to bars or parties but tonight seemed to be appropriate to drink yourself into oblivion.

When she first met Calum she was on cloud nine but then everything changed once she saw him she cheating on her in her own bedroom.

She had been seeing Calum for almost 6 months when it happened.

She was on her way home from work after 12 hour shift. Everything that day had gone surprisingly good, but as soon as she started to approach her apartment complex she started to get a weird feeling in her stomach. Right as she put the key in the lock and turned it something that feeling in her stomach turned into small stabbing pains.

When she stepped into the apartment everything was quiet, the lights were off even though it was nearly 10 PM on a Thursday night. She went up to her bedroom because she just wanted to go to bed immediately, she had to work the early shift the next morning.

As she got closer to her bedroom she could hear quiet female moans. She thought she was imagining it since she lived alone and the only person who had a key to her apartment was Calum. She had given him a key in case of emergencies.

When she opened her bedroom she saw tell him on top of a girl and they were making out in her bed. She didn’t say anything she just stayed frozen in the doorway, not knowing whether she should scream, cry or throw something at the pair.

So she did the only thing that her body allowed her to do. She dropped the bag she was holding which made the pair break apart, she could see how something changed in his eyes, the went from lust, to fear.

She turned in the doorway, made a beeline for the living room where she had placed her phone and keys just moments before, she then walked right out of the apartment, got into her car and drove off in the middle of the night.

That’s how she ended up in a bar, smoking her boyfriends cigarettes at 11PM on a Thursday night. She had two people come up to her that night, the first was the bartender who asked what she wanted to drink or if she was fine,

“Give me the strongest you have” She said “Because tonight I’m drinking myself into a oblivion.” She mumbled once the guy turned his back to her. The bartender turned back around and poured her a drink. She didn’t remember putting the glass to her lips or anything after that. But somehow she remembered the second person that came up to her that night. It was a woman, a few years older than herself.

“Are you okay?” She asked as she looked Y/N up and down. “Do you want me to call you a taxi?”

“I’m fine.” She mumbled as she stood up, she remember nearly falling over the woman but regaining her balance just in time.

She started to make her way out from the pub. She tried to figure out which way to go but it didn’t go as good as she had hoped. She didn’t remember picking up her phone, calling someone nor does she remember being picked up and falling asleep in someone else’s bed that night.

The next morning she woke up in all-too-familiar sheets and in an all-too-familiar room. She sat up too quickly which made her see stars, she closed her eyes and tried to focus. She was still dressed in the same clothes as she had on last night, she stood up from the bed. She went over to the door so she could pick up her shoes which were neatly placed beside a pair of black vans. Y/N carefully opened the door and as soon as she did she bumped into the person she least wanted to see, Calum.

“I’m sorry.” He said “I didn’t mean for this to happen, I was drunk.”

“That’s always the excuse.” she mumbled “You where drunk, someone else was drunk.” Tears started to roll down her cheeks as she looked at Calum.

“But the truth is, it’s never anyone's fault.” Calum looked down at the wooden floor, he didn’t know what to say or how to act. He knew he fucked up big time and there was no second chances.

“I’m sorry honey.” He said “I truly am, this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Will you just shut up already Calum.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “You’re the one who ruined this relationship and it’s always gonna be your fault no matter how much you try to fix it.” She said, she was angry. She couldn’t understand how someone who’s been cheated on could do that to another person.

“Are you ok?” He suddenly asked, he had looked Y/N up and down. Her eyes were red and puffy, her clothes had become a mess after she had slept in them and her hair was no longer in a bun on her head.

“What kind of question is that?” She hissed at him

“Do I look okay?” She motioned pointed at her red eyes. “Can you just fuck off?” She spat.

She started to walk towards the door and as she passed though the living room she was met with three familiar faces, Ashton, Luke and Michael. As soon as she saw them she froze. She could tell that they were there so they could try and convince her to forgive their best friend, except she couldn’t forgive him for cheating. Before they started to date they had been good friends and she had nearly giving her cheating ex a second chance but Calum had been the one that told her not to. He told her that people don’t change, no matter how much you want them too, so she didn’t see a reason to give him a second chance because after all, people don’t change, right?

It had been exactly one week and four days since she found her boyfriend cheating on her. Right now it was a 2:45AM and she was sitting out on her balcony, looking out over Los Angeles. She hadn’t slept in her bed yet, she couldn’t bring herself to remove the sheets or even touched the bed. Y/N had been sleeping on her couch, she had also moved most of her things to her guestroom, sure it was smaller than her room but she felt sick whenever she was in the room.

At first time moved so slow, she counted every tear that fell and she could feel herself slipping away. Then time moved so fast, she had gone to sit on her balcony at 10pm. She had gotten herself some food and was listening to some music, but before she knew it, it was 6AM and the sun was starting to rise.

She had been calling in sick to work for the past week because she couldn’t sleep at night. Y/N worked at a small bookstore in the middle of LA, she had never missed a day at work so after a week she had forced herself to go to work.

At around 9AM she arrived the the store, she unlocked the door and walked inside.

Her first day had been such a good day, there had been people coming in and buying book and talking to her as if they had know each other for forever. Once her lunch break came around she told her boss that she was going to run across the street to buy some lunch.

“Do you want anything?” She asked her boss, Kristine.

“I’m good.” She smiled as she helped the next customer.

As she opened the door to the cafe she saw a familiar head of beautiful curls, but she pretended that she hadn’t. The cashier took her order and she then waited for her food to be prepared. When the cashier called out her name Calum looked up from his phone, she could feel his eyes on her back as she walked out of the shop. She was just about to dig into her food when a colleague came into the breakroom.

“There’s a guys out front asking for you.” She seemed confused “He doesn't want our help.” The woman walked out of the breakroom and as she did Y/N let out a frustrated sigh. When she came into the store she locked eyes with the person she hadn’t seen for almost two weeks and she could feel the tears form in her eyes.

“What do you want?” She asked

“I wanted to see how your were doing?” He said as if he hadn’t done anything wrong. “How do you think I’m doing?” she asked frustrated

“I haven’t been able to sleep in my own room for two weeks and you think I’m doing fine?” “I don’t think you’re doing fine.” He said casually “I know I’m not.” Y/N looked at him. “Calum you were the one who told me that I shouldn’t give people second chances because people never change.”

“Well you shouldn’t always listen to me.” He said “Because if you hadn’t noticed, I can be quite stupid.”

“What are you trying to achieve here Calum?” She asked “Because I am not going to forgive you and I’m not going to get back together with you.” He ran a hand though his curly hair and sighed

“I was just hoping we could at least be friends.” She looked at him like he punched a puppy, he cleared his throat. “Because we were friends before we even dated, don’t forget that.” He said.

“I don’t want to see you Calum.” She said deflated. “You broke my heart, I wish I could avoid seeing you but your face is everywhere!” She felt like yelling but she couldn’t.

“If I invited you to a party.” He said “Would you show up?” He asked.

She didn’t try to talk to him anymore because this conversation wasn’t going anywhere, she just shrugged her shoulders and went back into the breakroom. Her appetite had almost disappeared but she forced herself to eat the food so she would have the strength to work for another 6 hours.

The following Friday she got a text message that read ‘Party at Ashton‘s place at 9 PM.’ She threw her phone onto the sofa and she laid her head down and suddenly there were tears rolling down her cheeks.

She didn’t plan to go to party at first but then she remembered that there would probably be free alcohol there, so she figured that getting drunk wouldn't hurt. Once she reached the house she could see that the hour was filled with people and she knew none of them. If she had been with Calum he would know everyone. She walked into the house and bumped right into Ashton, who clearly was the only sober person in the house. He want to hug her but she took a step back and shook her head, his smile dropped and he stepped to the side so she could walk past him.

She walked into the kitchen, took a beer and sat on the kitchen counter. After three hours of small talking with different drunk people two people stumbled into the kitchen, giggling at each other and talking among themselves. It was Calum and the girl from that night, his arm fell from the girls shoulder and the girl whined in protest. She hopped off the counter and as she was leaving the kitchen she purposely bumped into Calum and she walked right out of the door.

During the next week he tried to call, her text her and he even went to the bookstore again but this time she had no intention in talking to him so she told her boss that he had to leave or she would, that night she cried for 3 hours. She felt like giving up but that wasn’t her, she wasn’t going to give up because she was cheated on for the second time in the course of eight months. She didn’t know what to do, most of her friends had been friends with Calum so she couldn’t talk to them about it because it felt like hanging out Calum.

Nearly a month after being cheated on she was feeling better, she didn’t cry as often and she had just recently changed the bedsheets in her bed and moved back into her room. She had blocked Calum almost everywhere and apparently he was now dating the girl that Y/N had seen in her bed and at the party, her name was Agnes. After a while of stalking her instagram Y/N could see why he would chose Anges over her, she was so much prettier. Y/N found herself falling back into the same routines day after day, she didn’t really know what to do so one day she just decided that she should take an opportunity that had fallen into her lap a few days before she broke up with Calum. She had been asked if she wanted to write a book, it didn’t matter what kind but Y/N knew just what she wanted to write. She was going to write something that would help her heal and feel better.

Another week passed by and she had now quit her job at the bookstore and Calum had announced to the world that he was dating Agnes. He never told the world about Y/N, and they had been seeing each other for 6 months.

It was friday night and she was packing her clothes, since most of her friends stopped talking to her once Calum announced her relationship she was left to her own devices. She was listening to music and drinking some wine when the doorbell rang, it was nearly 9PM so she stood up from her sofa and when to open the door. When she opened the door she came face to face with none other than Calum Hood.

“Hi?” She said, Calum looked up at her in surprise, clearly shocked that she opened the door. He opened his mouth but closed it again, not not knowing what to say.

“Uh, hi.” He said, he then proceeded to ask if he could come in, Y/N didn’t say anything, she just stepped to the side and let him walk into her small messy apartment for the first time in nearly two months.

“Going somewhere?” He asked, she looked down at her feet and said,

“Uh, yeah I am.” She cleared her throat. “Well, technically I’m moving.”

“Oh.” He seemed surprised by her answers.”Can I ask where?” He asked

“To New York City.” She said, Calum’s head snapped back at the woman, he had known this girl for so long and she wasn’t the type that would just up and leave in the dead of night. Especially when she had a stable job and family in LA.

“Why are you moving?” He asked. “I thought you liked it here?”

“Well I don’t really have anything that’s keeping me here so I figured why not.” She grabbed her glass of wine and took a sip. “And since my publisher is located in New York I thought it would be best if I move there.” She smiled.

“Wait what? What publisher?” He said.

“I was going to tell you.” She said. “But then I found you in my bed.” She almost mumbled the last part but Calum was used to her mumbling so he heard her anyway.

“Oh.” Was all he managed to say, it almost sounded like had forgotten about that part. “So you would just have dropped everything and moved to New York?”

“Well if we would have stayed together I would have stayed her and just fly out to New York now and then.” Calum opened his mouth and Y/N could see that he wanted to argue back.

I think you should leave now Calum.” She said, he had been in her apartment for nearly an hour and she still had so much to do.

“Well I don’t want to leave.” He said “I want to know why you been ignoring me for a month and a half.”

“Why do you think I’ve been ignoring you?” She asked.

“HOW SHOULD I KNOW? YOU BLOCKED MY NUMBER Y/N!” He was now yelling at her and she was not having it!

“I don’t want to talk to you anymore Calum, can you please just leave?” She could feel the anger crawling up her back and she didn’t want to scream at him and she didn’t know what to say or do.

“NO, I will not leave until you fucking explain!” She could feel tears forming in her eyes. “Please just leave.” She said deflated, she walked up to Calum, she put a finger to his chest and said

“If you don’t leave my apartment now Calum, I will call the guard because I don’t want you here.” He could see the tears that now where rolling down her cheeks and he didn’t know why she was so upset.

During their dating period they hadn’t said I love you and since Calum had lost all his faith in love.

“It’s not like we loved each other.” He spat at her as he looked down at her.

“What do you mean?” She said as her voice broke, she had been in love with him since the start.

“Yeah, we didn’t love each other.” He said. “We never once said, I love you.”

“Well I loved you Calum, I loved you with my whole heart and you broke that into a million pieces.” She said, more tears were streaming down her face and she didn’t know what to do.

“If you ask me out relationship was doomed from the beginning.” He said, not affected by her tears.

“Fuck you Calum.” As she said this she pushed him towards the door, without saying anything he walked out the door, slamming it behind him. She fell into the door and slid down to the ground, when her knees met the ground sobs took over her body. She finally let her emotions free and after god knows how long she let herself fall into an empty darkness.

Tagging some cool people and mutuals

@glitterprincelu @futurewriter2000 @talkfastwalkfaster @geekygoddesss @anashtonkink @c-sainthood @astroashtonio @softforcal @irwinkitten @fratcalum @lilbabycalum

[movedyourchair505]

Napule Nights - nove

Shocker, thanks to Elana for helping me with this again. Love you xx

- chapter navigation -

x

Every new space Jade entered with Turner offered new impressions, new faces, new secrets, and she tried to observe it all, to not leave a single detail not taken notice of, which was admittedly harder than it seemed with his hand on her hip as he led her through a dark tunnel underneath the building they had just entered, his touch proving observing and keeping her mind focused to be a rather difficult task at hand. Quite literally.

Despite his previous intention to give her more instructions in the morning, she had very little to go by as they neared the end of the corridor. He'd told her to “dress teh impress”, informed her that the previously mentioned meeting was a poker game with participants of mostly people he worked with, some although loosely connected with enemy businesses. He had asked Jade to watch those individuals, just to have another pair of eyes on them, but he'd also made it quite clear that she was mostly there to divert the attention from Turner himself, to turn some heads, to look pretty and be a distraction, and to make him look better. Jade hadn't dared to ask then, why her, why he wouldn't just hire an escort.

Helders and Cook were closely behind them, the echo of their shoes ringing up the walls, and Jade couldn't help but feel safe, especially when she could make out two more figures at the far end of the dimly lit tunnel, another pair of henchmen. All they needed to move was a nod from Turner, then they opened the door they guarded and soon Jade was once again stood in a room of which the bright and luxuriously furnished interior harshly contrasted the blank and dark exterior.

Old photographs decorated the brick walls, the floor was carpeted in crimson red, a bar set up in one of the corners. Multiple crystal chandeliers lit up the underground space, no windows, one door each on opposite ends of it. Smoke floated through the air, its smell blending together with that of leather, rich perfume and gin.

Two women stood by the bar, sipping on martinis, looking up instantly when Turner and Jade entered the room. Without even letting her gaze wander across half of the room, Jade knew that all eyes were on her, those of the two women stood on the side, those that sat in the laps of a few of the men situated around a large round table in the centre of the room, and all the men themselves – including Turner.

It was then that she realised why he hadn't decided to hire an escort, as she slowly grew aware of just what she had gotten herself into. She had seen none of the faces in the room before, no one looked familiar and most importantly, no one wore the same look that Turner did. He was the most important person here and she hadn't truly understood until this moment what that meant for her.

“Turner, finalmente.”

One man sat at the table gave Turner a smile, then gestured to the last empty chair, stood beside him and Turner's hand slipped from Jade's hip to the small of her back. The material of her dress was thin, flimsy enough to allow her to feel the heat of his touch through it and there was no denying that it made her more nervous that she liked but she tried to compose herself as he led her forward, sat down in the chair and leaned back, spreading his legs apart, the matte material of his dark suit straining over his thighs and he patted his knee, then looking up at Jade expectantly.

She pressed her lips together, let her eyes wander around the room, met with most pairs, some looking away just in time before she noticed as she sat down on Turner's thigh, one of his hands instantly finding its way to her hip again and giving it a squeeze.

One of the men opposite them at the table had started shuffling a deck of cards, a woman by his side placing an equal amount of poker chips in front of each player, then stepping back when the cards were dealt.

“Would yeh light meh a cigarette, pupa?”

Jade felt shivers run up her spine, Turner's voice much closer, much lower than expected as he reached for his cards and picked them up, sorting them in his hand. Jade instantly missed the feeling of his hand on her hip, it almost distracted her from actually comprehending what he'd said, until he bounced up his thigh slightly to get her attention, the nudge enough to make her snap out of it and she nodded, drawing the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and fishing one out before placing the pack in front of him.

He parted his lips absently, then closed them around the cigarette when she placed it there and popped open his lighter and flamed the end until smoke rose from it and Turner held his cards in one hand once he'd finished putting them in order, taking a drag from his cigarette and holding his hand with it over the edge of the table, blowing the smoke up into the air in rings lazily.

Slowly, the cards became more interesting than their arrival and Jade felt less on edge focusing solely on Turner for a moment. Not that she had been able to really pay attention to anything else while sat so close to him. It wasn't just his scent that surrounded her into a spicy cloud of musk, but the way his suit was tight in all the right places, the top buttons of his shirt open as usual, the white contrasting his gently bronzed tan, exposing the shiny chain resting against his collarbones. He was intimidatingly gorgeous.

The embarrassment from the previous night still gnawed at her, and she was determined to not slip up tonight, to obey him, to somehow gain his approval or at least to not disappoint him or generally give him a reason to criticize her in any way, shape or form so when he leaned in again, she tried to pay attention to his words as much as his scent, his face, his touch.

“Reyht, 'ere's the deal” he drawled, his lips so close to her ear that she could feel his breath tickling her skin. He held up his cards as if he was showing her and she picked up on it quickly, staring down at his cards while she listened, nodding slowly.

“Tha' one wif the fick glasses, tha's Georgio” he said, quiet enough only for her to hear him. “I'm positive 'e's got ties teh Alfonso. Also tha' short one teh 'is reyht, he does deliverehs for another famileh tha's wif Alfonso.”

“What about the others?” Jade asked, her voice barely audible but she knew he'd heard her.

“I kno' most of 'em and 'ave worked wif them so tha's nofin teh beh worried about.”

For a moment he seemed irritated, furrowing his brows in confusion, moving to turn his head but before he fully could, his features smoothed again as one of the women from the bar placed a drink down in front of him and he acknowledged it simply with a nod before he sucked in a deep breath, his eyes flickering across the table, studying each of the men individually, gaze wandering across the women sat with them, then it landed back on Jade, shamelessly cascading down her slender neck to where her breasts were pushed up in the tight red dress that hugged her curves exquisitely.

He loved having her just sit there, just as his accessory, a secret weapon at the same time, she'd proven useful before, and he knew she was seemingly harmless to the others, just another girl to do whatever he pleased with, but he knew full well that all the other women in the room had nothing on her and he enjoyed that immensely, knowing he was superior, in power in every respect.

Jade could feel his eyes on her, their intensity, it was like they burned her skin and made her shiver at the same time. It took all her strength to focus on the rest of the men in the room rather than him, he was so close and she was so aware of the way his hand kept finding its way back to her thigh, in between taking drags from his cigarette and placing the cards on the table.

He seemed on edge at first, then slowly relaxed as the game ensued, dominating right from the start, watching the other players carefully nonetheless. He was highly focused, his movements and decisions strategically placed, and if they weren't, he was effortless at keeping up the appearance. When allowing herself to look back at him, turning her head for the shortest amount of time – not a second longer so he'd know that she was still following his orders – she regretted it instantly, struggling to go back to watching something much less interesting than him because she couldn't deny that she was completely and utterly fascinated by him, the way he pursed and licked and stretched his lips, the way his gaze hushed across the table before he made any sort of move, the way his jaw locked and she was the only one who could tell he tense.

When she could draw her eyes from him and focus on the others, she allowed herself to let her gaze drop to his hands, fiddling with the cards of bringing the cigarettes she continuously lit for him up to his lips, then back down. Every time one of his hands was free, she tensed, anticipated his touch and she was never disappointed, swallowing hard when he gave her thigh a subtle squeeze and she turned her head. It was unnecessary, he had her full attention anyway, she'd figured out as much as she could by now, felt it was quite obvious who belonged to who, who felt the most comfortable because of their location.

“Jade?” Turner drawled, his voice raspy, not as quiet as before but he cleared his throat quickly.

“Mmm?”

“D'yeh actualleh kno' 'ow teh play?” He asked. He must have noticed her not only watching the men he'd pointed out to her, but also the others, following the game carefully.

Jade chuckled, shaking her long hair back, brushing her fingers through it. “What do you take me for, Turner?” She whispered, licking her lips.

The corner of his mouth twitched and he titled his head to the side in amusement. He nodded slowly, her perfume had been lingering around him, like his personal magic tree, but as she shook her hair and shifted it really hit him and he grew more aware of just how close he was, of just how much he could do like this and she felt his fingers move across her thigh, the calloused tips running up her skin just below the hem of her dress, his nails scratching lightly at her skin in the process. She didn't know it but he was pleasantly surprised by her, especially after how she'd acted the day before. “Wha' do yeh suggest I do then?”

He gave an barely noticeable nod towards his cards, another squeeze of her thigh and she tried to compose herself, tried to ignore the way he toyed with the hem of her dress, pressed his chest close to her side, his lips almost touching her neck as he spoke and she tried her hardest to play along, to act like he was just letting his hands wander, telling her something dirty.

She could feel his heartbeat, could smell his cologne, something else she was never able to pinpoint and it was almost too much, but the urge to impress him prevailed. “Do it.”

His eyes flickered up at her, then he looked back down at his cards, straightened his neck and stretched his jaw. The confidence in her voice, knowing, decisive, he couldn't resist and pushed the rest of his chips into the centre of the table.

“All in, gentlemen.”

The mood shifted, most of the men now tense, the women suddenly paying attention to the main event too. It was quite impressive, the effect he had on a room full of people that seemed only half as intimidating as him, but what really drew Jade in was the look on his face, the smug hint of a smile, complacent radiation of confidence.

“Why don't yeh get yehrself a drink too, pupa?”

Jade was confused at first, taken aback by the tone, the edge to his voice, like something had changed, but it wasn't exactly unsettling, comforting rather, like he'd relaxed somehow. With another squeeze of her hip, he let go and shifted so she could get up, making her way to the bar in the corner, not even needing to look over her shoulder to tell he was looking at her, or to know that the groaning around the table meant that he'd once and for all asserted his dominance, a sense of pride swelling inside her as she heard the chips being dragged across the table.

“What's it gonna be?” The woman's low voice snapped Jade out of it as her eyes scanned her up and down, she pursed her lips, then looked at the other woman stood with her.

“Manhattan.”

She gave a nod, turned around to start making her drink while the other also prepared one. “So, where do you work?” She asked, looking up at Jade.

Jade raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, I've seen you around, haven't I?” The second one smirked. “Voglia? I used to dance there.”

“I don't anymore” Jade responded stiffly, all her confidence going up in smoke as she was unsure about how much she should share, but she also didn't want to be too cold, too distant to make Turner look bad in any way. There was way too much she still didn't know, but she knew she didn't have to try with these women either. She was certain they both accompanied the men Turner had told her about.

“Is that so?” The first one asked, handing her her drink.

She looked back at them both, swallowing. “It's none of your business really.”

That gained the attention of the second woman as well, drawing it from her chaperone back to Jade and she just shrugged before carrying two drinks over to the table.

Jade didn't know what unsettled her but she felt instantly like she'd missed something, let the men out of sight even though Turner had asked her to watch them, but he'd also told her to get a drink and she felt strangely out of touch with herself, her task, like talking to the women had thrown her off, had made her lose focus.

She pressed her lips together, watched the second woman place a glass in front of Turner and then Jade's heart started pounding, blood rushing into her ears and she swallowed, her throat dry.

She crossed the room with two large steps, the heels of her shoes audible even on the carpeted floor and without any sense of respect or shame, she sat herself back down in Turner's lap and wrapped her arm around his shoulders, visibly catching him off guard, but he only wrapped his arm around her waist, turning his head to allow her to speak close to his ear, shielded by her hair.

“Stay calm” she said, unable to follow her own advice. Her voice was shaking, she felt dizzy.

He was irritated instantly. “Wha'?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“She spiked your drink.”

His jaw clicked and he blinked several times, she could feel him suck in a breath. “Jade, don't embarrass yehrself again. I joost told yeh teh watch the two men...”

“She's with him” Jade said quickly, panicking as she realised he really didn't value her word that much, maybe he didn't trust her at all, maybe he just wanted to keep her busy, didn't really need her.

“This is neither of their places, sheh's joost...”

“The barwoman” she spoke insistently, almost frantic, desperately trying to keep her voice down. “She's with one of the men you pointed out, I think … I think you might not be on good terms with more of two couples in this room.”

“Do yeh kno' wha' yeh're suggestin' reyht now? I'm winnin' reyht now, I...” He was growing more tense,

Jade snapped, pushing herself away from him, stealing the cigarette resting in front of him on the edge of the ashtray and without a second thought dropped it into the clear liquid in his glass.

The sizzling sound silenced the room.

Having blended into the background up until now, Cook and Helders were instantly on either side of her and Turner, both with their hands at their belt, their jackets concealing what Jade assumed to be guns and she tensed, breathing out shakily.

Turner tightened his arm around her, no indication of fear, not a hint of panic on his smooth features. “I fink weh're gunna go” he spoke calmly, locking the gaze of each of the men he was now certain had not expected him to make it this far.

“I think you better had.”

Jade watched Turner's eyes darken, praying she would never be on the receiving end of the glare he laid upon the man he'd trusted up until a few moments ago.

“I fink it's safe teh say I won” Turner said, chuckling darkly. “Me moneh.”

It was all a blur, surreal, how the woman that had put something into his drink went back into the corner, only to return with a small suitcase of bills, and Turner got up only when Helders had confirmed that it was the right amount of money, there was no rush to his movements, his hand on Jade's hip the only thing soothing her as Helders and Cook led them outside, neither of them looking back, the room behind them silent, tense.

The heavy door fell closed, separating them from the hostility she'd feared so much inside the room, but it wasn't until they were sat in the back of the car that Alexander looked over at her, his expression giving away more than he would have liked but as he regarded her next to him, he was visibly shaken, almost unable to hide just to what extent. Not that nobody had ever made an attempt on his life before, no, he was no stranger to that. But the fact that Jade had been the only reason it hadn't succeeded, it unsettled him.

“Jade...” he said quietly, swallowing hard, the lights of the city rushing by flickering across his face, his neck as his skin stretched over his adam's apple, moved his chain even.

“Y-Yes?” She stammered, desperate for him to speak.

“Yeh were reyht.”

Her heart was still racing, she felt like she hadn't really comprehended the situation she'd been in until now, and it terrified her to the core. “I...”

“No” he said, taking her hand into his, not allowing her to disagree with him which he knew she was setting up to do, judging by her expression. “Fank yeh.”

[sunjaesol]

Thoughts on 6x15 Pressure Test

- More... hunters. Great.  - THEO - He wants nothing, Theo, just seeing you dead is enough. You know what? I like Theo! Not because he’s a ood characeters, but because he’s fucked up and that’s cool to see. It’s a nice perspective to follow. He’s also a leader, but in a different way.  - Theo is smart, damn - I wonder why Liam and Malia don’t have the two circles tattood somewhere. If Satomi’s pack does it, and the Hale pack, than why isn’t the McCall pack doing it?  - “You know Scott McCall?”, I suppose he’s very famous in the supernatural world? The one and only True Alpha from this century? - Well... he’s still a psychopath.  - ah, the sheriff - Okay, yes, Theo did murder the Hunter, but how do they know so fast? And the Hunter tried to kill them so... I don’t know.  - DEATON WHAT - Oh great, visitors commit suicide. Wonderful.  - First of all, where is Deaton going? We’ve never seen this kind fo energy happening to humans. Is it the flesh, body, thingy again? Secondly, what the fuck is he wearing?  - What the fuck is happening?  - I swear to God if Teen Wolf lets Deaton die... - So, Scott probably dialed Deaton for help and Deaton probably proposed he would go as he is more experienced and... yes. Okay. A face. It’s not faceless, but perhaps it was the face of the faceless creature. And why has there been many more before Deaton that killed themselves? - lol Theo is back in jail - not smart Jiang. I love the girl her boots though.  - “Would Stiles think that?” LYDIA MARTIN THINKING OF HER MAN - Nonono the flesh faceless thing is there right? Theo heard it.  - Poor girl.  - lol Malia I’d laugh too. I don’t think though I’ve ever heard Malia actually laugh uncontrolably. It’s nice. - No one asked you to be there, Tamara.  - What in the world. A sheriff raising his hands to vigilantes.  - It’s quite interesting, this season. The Hunters think they’re not doing anything wrong, and the supernatural don’t think they’re not doing anything wrong. But at the end of the day, they both made mistakes. Supernaturals killing people for the sake of their secret, and Hunters killing supernaturals even if they didn’t do anything to them. Really, they’re just humans with an extension, and Hunters don’t seem to grasp that. No one seems to, which is odd. But, peer pressure is a thing and can make people do weird things, so I understand why everyone is opposite of them.  - If you hurt. one. single. hair. on. the. sheriff’s. head. i. will. castrate. all. of. you. and. sterelise. you. Tamara. - “DeWitte” lol is he of Dutch descent? - Why is Malia the only one feeling it? Whatever “it” is. - The pack is not even surprised to see Theo? Oh, well. - I love Malia this season. She has a wider arrange of emotions, if that makes sense. It’s her most “human” season, regarding her feelings, actions and reactions. - The girl is very logical - “There’s only a dozen of them out there, we can take them” YES LYDIA - The last of Satomi... must feel awful. Losing your family members so quickly. So, Lori did die with Brett, she just dragged herself to his body so she could die alongside him. - “I need a thing too” Teen Wolf realising Corey has no value.  - huh, Corey realising he has no value. Great.  - oh okay this is cool. It’s the last season, so go back to basics, back to where it all started, before they were mutations. Wolves.  - Why are Nolan and that guy here? Don’t they have homework to do? Or a life to live? - So small quakes is the supernatural and one devestating quake is killing everyone that comes in your path? How is that... she’s crazy. Absolutely crazy. Kate would be proud of her.  - Theo’s like “ugh FINE” - wait this is like the fist battle. It’s been a while since they actually... you know, fought. Scott hardly ever uses force because he’s against it, so it’s been a while (I think 5B) where we saw some actual action. I’m excited. And nervous.  - COME ON PARRISH - scolia look™ - Please, if Stiles could contact you through dimensions by radio you can fix that radio as well - Don’t look so surprised, Nolan. You stabbed Corey with a pen.  - aww no I liked Liam x Theo friendship in 6A. Well, Stiles hurt Scott in 5B and they’re still besties so I suppose this is just a bump in the road. - “I’m still working on my anger.” But... shouldn’t that be solved by being a werewolf? Scott lost his astma because of it. - “I’m still human” what i’ve been screaming at my screen since this season came out. They’re STILL HUMAN. They have legs and arms and eyes and a face and a brain and a consious. They learn and mke mistakes and fall in love and get their hearts broken. They’re human, just... with an extra. - A pack is a family, Nolan. Before you start going on a killing spree, do your research. - The actor of Jiang is good. Like, they have Lori who was terrible and then him who’s pretty great. He’d be a great addition to the pack tbh, I like him already. The girl hasn’t said too much.  - What is that? And how did Nolan get loose? - Oh, wolfsbane. In liquid form. - fuck okay Scott. It’s been a while since he lashed out with his eyes.     - Okay so they’re blue. They’ve killed people.  - oh I missed Deaton, always with his “We’re closed” thing - other half? and I thought the drawing was a face? Guess not.  - Who is innocent and who is not? What is good and what is bad. Scott’s moral compass is shifting and shifting and shifting... - Wait.  - Nolan is the creature? - But if Scott kills people, will he lose his red eyes or not? and will he still be a True Alpha? - wHAT THE FICK THAT FACELESS THING MAKES PEOPLE KILL THEMSELVES WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE  - nONONONONONON WOMAN DONT KILL YOURSELF - PUTAIN. Merde. Le situation est très grave.  - ooooooh so the wolves and the rats - it’s all because of that thing. I get it now. (damn, it only took like five episodes for me to figure that out) - THATS IT! Throw the bodies outside and let them think it’s the two of Satomi’s pack. It’s one girl and one boy, it would work. - Scott and I think the same *feels the bromance* - oh, the other half of the drawing is in the Wild Hunt Universe. COREY IS USEFUL HALLELUJAH - Corey can draw.  - ancient shape shifter that feeds of fear so it gets more powerful. So, Nogitsune 2.0 but now without a host. They killed a Nogitsune, but that was a fox. This is just... nothing. It’s ancient, nothing they know.  - Oh, Anuk-ite. Great. My actual name resembles that quite a lot. (You heard it here first, folks, Ophelia is a pseudonym woop woop)  - “Two faces may mean two creatures” One beautiful, one ugly. I swear, if Lydia gets involved...  - But this is really interesting. It’s been a while (since 3B) since I was actually afraid and intrigued by the villain. - This is like Aiden and Ethan, morphing together. Only more violent I suppose. - OH SHIT PAPA MCCALL ENTERED THE BUILDING - Did Melissa call him?  - “We’ll go” ???? - NO SCOTT WHY DID YOU GAVE THEM AWAY FUCK FUCK FUCK - Oh... with McCall. Okay. That’s for the best I suppose - scolia and thiam are rising tonight - Wait but when did McCall find out Scott was a werewolf? Did I just forget about that or??? - cute scott smile ™ - oh my god they’re holding hands oh my god - SCOTT IS SO CUTE WHEN HE HAS A CRUSH OH MY GOD HE IS LIKE THE ADORABLE PUPPY IN THE RELATIONSHIP AND MALIA IS LIKE THE ONE WHO DOESNT LIKE PDA AND LIKE PRETENDS SHE DOESNT LIKE HIM AS MUCH AS HE DOES IM SO - - - (sorry anti’s I like them) - ah, all the supernatural are gonna leave town - oh, Mason... I’m sorry. (but tbh you’re better of without Corey but you’re in love so) - NO TIERNEY JIANG - poor Mason - ooh Corey is still here alright - Corey, realy? A smiley?  - cocky!Scott is my kink - I’m so glad Stiles isn’t here though. Mentally, it wouldn’t be good for him. 

[cajunroe]

fickwynn (nate fick x mike “gunny” wynn) + soft home domestic!au ↳ nate never figured his life would end up like this. hell, he never really stopped to figure how his life would end up. but he’s happy, so happy, and that’s all that matters. he has a job he loves, a cat named weston that he loves, a small, but beautiful home, that makes him feel content no matter what, that he loves. and above all, he has mike. mike was the biggest surprise of them all. he had worked his way into nate’s life before he could blink, part of being comrades in arms, so to speak. but the real surprise was when they were finally stateside and done for good and mike gently pulled nate aside during their big celebration together and stuttered out an invitation to dinner. nate didn’t know how to respond. he’d never thought of gunny in that way, or anyone in their motley crew, for that matter and there were plenty to think about. nate just stared at mike for a moment. he’d grown to genuine trust mike with anything, his own life even. he knew mike was caring, strong, passionate, and trustworthy. nate smile and replied with a simple yes. if he hadn’t thought of gunny in a romantic way before, the bright smile and blush he received in return could’ve marked the beginning.

 two years later and he can’t imagine what his life would be like without him.  he wouldn’t have it any other way because his life without mike would be like a humvee without wheels, useless. he wake one lazy sunday morning to the smell of his favorite tea and mike cursing as he tries to gently set their breakfast on the bed, cursing as weston jumps on the bed to steal a strawberry. nate laughs and looks to see mike, glasses on and bedhead standing out proudly gruffly opening the paper to read. weston curls up between the two of them and purrs softly. nate closes his eye and takes a deep breath. days like this, nate thanks whatever is out there for giving him such a good life. it hasn’t always been easy or painless, but every bad thing is worth it to be able to kiss the man he loves every morning and night. the man he wants to be able to call husband. nate wanted to wait for something a little more lavish, but this ordinary lazy sunday was the perfect setting. he leans over and pulls out a small ring tied to red ribbon. he tries to tie it around weston’s neck but their temperamental feline would not have it. he was hissing like nate had just told him they were gonna neuter him. mike looks down to see nate, face red, and fidgeting with a steadily more aggressive cat. 

“nate, what’re you doing to him?”

nate looked up, frustrated and becoming gradually more upset. maybe this was a sign. mike had never mentioned anything about marriage or their future. nate wondered, then, that maybe mike didn’t want to get married. maybe he just wanted them to stay like they were for as long as they could. he never even thought to ask.

“nate?”

“n-nothing, just trying to fix his collar.”

before nate could hide the ring, mike had grabbed his hands to try to help.

both men looked to the small silver band, hanging from a red ribbon, in nate’s hand.

“is that wh-” mike started.

“don’t say anything. i know you don’t want to get married. i’m fine.”

nate moved to pull away but mike held onto his hand with a strong grip.

mike waited for nate to look at him.

when their eyes met, mike saw a look in nate’s eye he hadn’t seen for a long time: fear.

“w-what makes you think i don’t want to get married?”

nate swallowed over the lump in his throat.

“you just never said anything about our future so i assume you’re happy with the way things are. i am too, mike. so happy. i just kind of…it’s stupid.”

mike placed his hands on either side of nate’s face, imploring him to finish his thought. “what, nate?”

“i want to be able to call you my husband.”

mike smiled, bright and full of unconditional love for the man in front of him. 

“yes.”

several looks passed through nate’s face; confusion, realization, shock, acceptance, and adoration.

he threw himself at mike and kissed him soundly, the two fitting together like they always had: seamlessly. 

mike pulled away from the kiss to grab a small box from the drawer in his nightstand.

nate’s eyes widened before bursting into laughter with mike.

“i was gonna put it in your favorite book and wait.”

nate smiled as he looked at the near identical band he bought for mike.

he kissed mike once, short and chaste but perfect.

“i think we’ve waited long enough.”

@msridcully - thank you!  send me a pairing and an au and i’ll make an aesthetic post + ficlet 

[lovingunderratedcharacters]

How They React to You Joining the Company

Anon: Hi, I love your blog. Can I ask for headcanons of reactions for you (a female) joining the companies as a sniper with an impressively high kill count. Specifically for generation kill, with Nate Fick and Doc Bryan and Ray Person, and BoB, with Gene,Toye, Guarnere, and others if you want?

Richard Winters: He knew about you before you joined. You were kind of a legend among officers. He kept quiet about your accomplishments, though, because he wanted the men to like and respect you because of who you are rather than what you’ve done. He has great respect for you and does not look at you differently because you’re female.

Lewis Nixon: He knows about your accomplishments and doesn’t give a shit. All he cares about is that you’re willing to take a joke and you don’t bother him about meaningless problems. He enjoys hanging out with you from time to time, but in public he tries to keep his distance so that no one starts associating the two of you together (even though secretly he loves the nights when you two talk about the crap you’ve been through).

Ronald Speirs: He thinks you’re a badass, and treats you as such. Granted, he was VERY surprised when you turned up and you were a woman. When he heard stories about an incredible sniper going through Germany taking out enemies, he figured that you were a guy. That being said, his opinion of you didn’t change in the slightest when he met you.

Carwood Lipton: He was hesitant about you joining, but it’s not for the reason you would think. He would never consider you less skilled or qualified because you are a woman. Rather, he was hesitant because he wasn’t sure how to go about keeping you safe. Mama Lip is protective as hell, but he was worried that he would come off as overly protective or even flirting with you by protecting you. Later on, he warmed up to you being around.

Darrell “Shifty” Powers: Nervous as hell. Like, every time the two of you speak, he ends up a blushing and stuttering mess. He will always call you ma’am or miss, no matter how often you tell him that he doesn’t need to call you that. When he gets more comfortable around you, the two of you have shooting contests all the time. Neither of you win because you’re both too polite to actually try to beat the other.

Floyd Talbert: He flirts with you constantly. Obviously, there’s respect, but not at first. You’re just some girl who’s come to screw everything up so he might as well have some fun. And then he see’s you shooting, and he shuts the hell up. Now, he still flirts with you ALL THE TIME, but he’s pretty respectful and will hurt any guy that tries to harass you. He becomes extra protective, especially right after he finds out what you can do.

Bill Guarnere: He walks straight up to you and introduces you to the rest of the guys. Growing up in a big Italian family has made him a natural at taking others under his wing, and that’s exactly what he does with you. You end up becoming like a little sister to him, and everyone knows it. He doesn’t really like the fact that you’re a sniper, simply because he sees you as someone who’s innocent and it hurts him to see you loose your innocence to war.

Joe Toye: It took him a solid two weeks to say a word to you, despite Bill’s push for everyone to get to know you. He has no specific opinion of you. He just doesn’t have a reason to talk to you. Also, he would never admit this but he stays away from you so that he doesn’t have to suffer if you end up dying. He knows what he can handle, and seeing a woman die in front of him to save the lives of others is not something he wants to deal with.

Denver “Bull” Randleman: His Southern hospitality gets the best of him. He takes care of you, bringing you food, shielding you from harassment, sitting next to you when you start to have a nightmare. He’s a lot like Bill in that he doesn’t like that you’re a sniper, but he’s less vocal about his opinion than Bill. He has a great amount of respect for you and he couldn’t imagine what he would do if something were to happen to you.

Eugene Roe: He gets really quiet around you. Quieter than usual. If you come in asking for help in dressing a wound, he’ll simply nod and gesture for you to take a seat. It’s almost like pulling teeth trying to get him to talk to you. He rarely opens up to you, but there was one time in Bastogne, after Hoobler died, when he saw you sitting on your own and he sat down next to you. The two of you sat in silence before he began telling you a story about his grandmother.

Lynn “Buck” Compton: He laughs you off at first, saying that there’s no way a woman could qualify to be around the rest of the guys. It doesn’t take long before he’s eating his words because his gambling gets the best of him. He bet that you couldn’t hit a target from 500 meters, and you proved him wrong. His face was better payment than the drink he bought you that night.

David Webster: He’s a bit arrogant when he sees you join. He tries to impress you all the time, but usually just ends up looking stupid. You enjoy seeing him act ridiculous, so from time to time you try to encourage this behavior just to get a laugh. You were also present during his little “they got me” incident, which you remind him of constantly.

Joe Liebgott: He did not like you when you joined, and he let you know it. He was constantly teasing you and making you feel like crap. It’s mostly because he didn’t like the idea of a woman being in the company. He figured that you were going to be a distraction to the rest of them and there’s no way that a woman should be on a battlefield. The problem with this is, his attitude towards you ended up being more of a distraction than anything else.

Donald Malarkey: He brags about himself to you all the time. You don’t mind, really, because he’s less forward about it than Webster. He also gets pretty nervous around you from time to time. Like, you can tell when he gets embarrassed because his ears get really red and he can’t make eyes contact with you. You think it’s pretty cute, and you’d never admit it, but HOT DAMN this boy’s shoulder’s are the best thing in existence.

Edward “Babe” Heffron: The most nervous of all the nervous to ever nervous. It takes him so long to have a conversation with you. Part of this is because he has a bit of a crush on you and the other part is that he knows that you could kill him in the blink of an eye, not that you would, but that thought is sitting there in the back of his mind. This shakiness continues on throughout the war, but he gets slightly more comfortable around you after Bastogne.

George Luz: A flirt if there ever was one. The difference between him and Tab is that George never underestimated what you could do. He figured if Sink was willing to bring you to the 101st, then you must be good enough to be there. He’s constantly cracking jokes and teasing you in a nice way. He’s a lot less protective than the other guys because he knows that you can hold your own and he has a lot of pride in your abilities.

Charles “Chuck” Grant: This gentleman doesn’t hesitate to accept you into the group. No worries about you being a woman. No problem with you being a world class sniper. He knows that you’re skilled and that you’re meant to be with Easy Company, and that’s all that really matters to him. However, there have been certain times where he gets a bit protective of you when the other guys get too rough or too excited.

Frank Perconte: Surprisingly, he gets really close to you. He sees how strong and determined you are and he makes a conscious decision to become a close friend of yours. He tries to take care of you to the best of his ability but he keeps his distance when he realizes that you’ve got it handled. He’s probably the closest to you out of all the guys, and the two of you stuck together through Bastogne.

Johnny Martin: He’s a dad. Just a dad. A protective, loving dad who want’s to make sure that all the guys in the company know that if they try anything with you, they’re going to have to answer to him. There was one instance where a guy from Dog Company was following you around, freaking you out a bit, and when you told Johnny about it, he walked out of his quarters, shotgun in hand. No one knows exactly what he did to that paratrooper, but one thing’s for sure, the guy never bothered you again.