#i am okay with being told how to correctly tag

[toots-senpai]

fair warning: i do not have a foot fetish, i just appreciate any form of pleasure...no foot fetish, (i will kick you stop fwm) just hear me out.

if cod men have hand/foot fetish & their opinions on you be spoiled with mani-pedis (ghost, price, soap, konig, gaz)

MDNI (you'll be blocked)

nsfw under the cut

captain price has a slight foot kink i dont make the rules. but ik its just purely because he loves all of your body. i dont think he’s down for sucking toes (idk tho man is a freak) but when he's got you in a mating press, ankles on his shoulders, he’ll kiss the arch of your foot 100% of the time. when you doll up to go out he loves slipping on your shoes, affirmations to stay safe or if the two of you are going out together, maybe it starts a teasing amount of pregame for the night ahead, kissing from your feet and up your legs. also pays for your mani-pedis every time you talk about a new color. if you ask him what he wants, he loves any pastels fs. goes rabid if you get his name or initials on your nails. sits in the car when you're in the salon or goes and occupies his time by buying food for you to eat when you're done.

soap probably has it full blown fr, like adoration about anything oral, full blown oral fixation with this one. he kisses wherever he can, it doesn't matter if it's the heel of your foot. bet he loves watching you lick the release off his fingers and vice versa. he's too jealous to sit in the same room as you without being able to touch you. this man most definitely gives you at home pedicures because he doesn’t want anyone else touching your feet. definitely complains about it even if he does give you the money for the pedicure and your technician is a woman. he'll lotion you every time you're out of the shower even if you don't need it. positive he's a switch, loves getting degraded, the sight of degrading him by making him suck your toes is clear. 100% puts of you don't get his initial in your nail everytime he pays for them, pouts even more when you pay yourself.

i feel like konig has the same energy as soap when it comes to being attracted to all of your body but i don't think he's down for anything other than kissing. but, when you get your nails done flashy for this first time, he see's your little hobby as something he can smother you with like everything else. you once got long nails with a red bottom underneath and that's when his appreciation clicks and he starts to love your pretty nails more than anything. kissing at your fingers anytime he gets and cumming harder when your pretty nails are wrapped around his thick length. probably begs you to not give him handies when your nails are done because the sight makes any amount of stamina and restraint go out the window. if you brace your pretty fingers on his collarbones while you ride he wont look away from you. if you get his initial signed he thinks it's cute but nothing to roll heads over for him. also paints your toes when he has the chance. would probably sit in the salon with you but man is a girl magnet so he sits in the car and probably sends you the worst memes you've seen.

i think ghost doesn't care for it all, pays if you ask, definitely likes to sit in salons with you, stares down anyone who tries to even think about talking to him. when you have your nails done man lets you do nothing if he's able to enforce it. no hard labor with your hands, but loves watching you tap away at your phone, flip at pages and laughs when your nails gets in the way when you write.

gaz is soap but way less possessive. do whatever you want, he's your backbone. i personally think he aids in your thoughts of delusion and encourages things a little too much sometimes. he's the best friend a girl could ask for when it comes to drama and getting all dressed up. is never unenthused at the the things you like and if you think it's cute, of course it is, he's buying it regardless of what you want. i think gaz is the type of man to be like "i wanna spoil you, whatchu want." instead of grabbing random things. the only time he surprises you with random things is when your items need to be refilled and he knows exactly what it is that you need. sits in the salon, stares at you the whole time and makes the nail ladies blush.

[choccorin]

light rain | ft. sakura

tags. fluff , sakura haruka x gn! reader, maybe ooc 'kura?

at the early stages of your relationship, sakura never knew that you get sick very easily and he found this out when you were going on a light stroll.

sakura was on break from patrolling when he saw you shopping for some things at a store, since he was on break, he offered to walk you home and you happily accepted.

while he was walking you from, it started to rain a little bit. you knew that you'd get sick even at the tiniest bit of rain, so you told him to hurry up.

once you arrive to your apartment, you were both a bit wet from the rain. so before he left, you offer him your umbrella. he declined at first saying he doesn't need it but you insisted, you explained that you didn't want your boyfriend to be sick. he turns red at the nickname, he accepts your umbrella with a blushing face.

it was now the next day, sakura thought it was weird that you didn't go to school today, you didn't even tell him why. he got a little sad that you didn't tell him but he's never admit that. he's getting worried so he decided to call you.

his phone rings and you immediately pick up.

“hey, you okay?” he says on the phone, he was expecting you to respond but got confused when he heard coughing and sniffling instead,

“are you sick?!” he yells with a worried tone, surprising his friends beside him.

you sniffle, “yeah .. the light rain caught to me yesterday ...” you chuckle, cringing at the sound of your hoarse voice.

“okay, i'll be right there.” sakura replied, suddenly ending the call.

“huh- what?” you were left shocked, looking at your phone. did you hear him correctly? he's coming over to your place?!

sakura rushed out pothos café, explaining to his friends — just as shocked as you were — that he had something to do before running out.

in just 5 minutes, your door bell rang. you hurriedly open the door to find sakura in front of your door, panting while holding a small bag.

“you actually cough came .. ” you were also out of breath, you sheepishly smile at him.

“wha- what are you doing out of bed, dumbass!?” he pulls in you to your apartment, closing the door behind him. his grip on your wrist is firm — but gentle.

he sits you on your bed, “stay here. i-i'll take care of you, okay?” his hands on your shoulders were trembly and he looks nervous, this is his first time taking care of someone and being inside your apartment, of course he was nervous.

he walks out your room and you here some clattering in your kitchen, you wanted to get up but you don't want to disobey your already stressed boyfriend.

you didn't want him to see you all vulnerable like this but you were glad that he came just to take care of you, seeing him all worried about you made your heart melt and also made you feel a bit better.

sakura comes back with a bowl of soup, water and some medicines. he tells you to eat, explaining that kotoha gave it to him before he ran out of the café.

“give kotoha my thanks then. ” your voice sounds weak and softer than usual.

sakura doesn't like seeing you being weak like this, it makes him want to protect you like your some kind of hurt cat.

sakura meant it when he said he'll take care of you since he went home at 6 am, never leaving your side. it was the next day and still early but he had classes and patrolling so you offered him to go now, after a lot of reassuring him that you're better now, he leaves.

sakura never carries any umbrellas with him, his body is used to getting drenched in rain anyways. but this changed when he saw how sick you were that day, so now, he always carries an umbrella so that in case you forget yours — which you often do — and it looks like it's going to rain, he'll give it to you.

he might not say that he loves you by his words, but his actions say otherwise.

n. this is self indulgent. i get sick very easily so i thought about sakura being worried about his sickly lover <3

t. @kyoghurts hi :3

[crazyk-imagine]

Stealing is Not the Answer, but It Could Be

Pairing: Shawn Spencer x Detective!reader

Characters: Shawn Spencer, Detective!reader, Burton "Gus" Guster, Chief Vicks, Carlton Lassiter, Buzz McNab

Warnings: Fluff, humor, Shawn being Shawn, Gus and reade being besties, Shawn trying to use his Shawn psych, Shawn trying to steal something, reader putting Shawn in his place, Shawn and Gus doing shenanigans

Word Count: 615

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You walk into the department, aiming for chief Vicks office when you hear an alarming statement from your favorite chaotic duo.

“Sometimes I think it would be easier to steal something than ask for it,” Shawn blurts out.

You owlishly blink, wondering if you heard that correctly.

“That is both frightening and alarming, Shawn.”

He turns to face you, putting on an innocent face. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to disagree.”

You look over his head to see what his buddy’s expression is. “Gus?”

He nods, gesturing to you. “I’m with her.”

“What? Gus? Aw, come on.”

He shakes his head, “I am not agreeing with you on stealing. Last time I agreed with you, we wound up in jail.”

“That was here though!”

He turns towards Shawn, “Lassie kept us there for five hours.”

“Yes, but then Buzz let us out.”

Gus shakes his head, “no, I’m not going back in there.” He stands up, whispering in your ear, “I almost had to pee in front of the other people locked up. You know how I feel about that.”

You nod, patting his shoulder to comfort him. “I know, Gus. I know.”

“Well, this has been nice.” Shawn tries to slip past you, “I’ll be off now.”

You shake your head. “Not so fast.” You hook your arm in his and pull him back. “Where do you think you’re going with the chief's favorite figurine?”

He yanks his arm from you, “how dare you! How could you even- okay, that was a little dramatic even for me but look at it.” He presses his face against the fish figurine. “It’s so cute.”

You shake your head, “put it back.”

“Fine,” he sighs. “It was just a harmless little prank."

“Harmless or not, you tried to steal in a police station, how smart is that?”

“You tell him.”

“Can it, Gus.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Shawn snorts, “ma’am? What are in the 1950’s and you're the little harmless housewife?”

“No, it’s called I have respect for those who are in a higher power than me.”

You smile at him, “thank you, Gus.”

The doors open.

“Anything I can help you three with?”

“Actually-”

You cut the psychic off and grab his arm. “Nope, thanks, chief. Keep being awesome.”

You sit him down at his dad’s desk and stand in front of him, holding a pen and a piece of paper. “Now make with your chicken scratch and write, stealing is not the answer fifty times.”

He opens his mouth to whine.

“Whine and I’ll add twenty-five.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You smile, patting his shoulders, “attaboy.”

Gus covers his mouth to hide his amusement.

“Come on, Gus. Let’s go make like Shawn’s humor and scram.”

-

“Hey! Where are you two going?”

“To get some jerk chicken and a pineapple smoothie.”

“I want to come!”

“No!”

“That sounds amazing,” the pharmaceutical rep adds.

“I know right.” You close the door only to be hit with a breeze before the car shakes.

“Here. Now let’s go.”

You grab the paper. “Wow, you already, did it?”

You look in the left corner, “wait- nineteen- this is from when we were fourteen.”

“You never specified when I had to write it.”

“Shawn that’s not- that’s actually really good, you got me.”

He lets out a victory chuckle. “See, Gus. I told you; it would work.”

You gasp, “how dare you. Gus, I thought we were besties.”

“Uh- you see the thing is-”

You shake your head, “no. I’ve been betrayed enough.”

You lean against your arm, watching the world go by as he drives, unable to hide your smile as Shawn tries to bug you and tell you it was all him.  

-

Tag list

@kmc1989

[verysanebsdfan]

𝑲𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒖𝒂 𝒁𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒄𝒌 𝒙 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒂!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

Request: And also one where reader is very similar to misa misa from death note !! She's a famous model w kira as her nen and she joined the Hunter to try and see what else she could do!!

Hii!! This is a story to a second part of this request, I hope you like it.

Also i havent watched Death note since like 3 years ago so it may not be all so accurate, the personality i mean !!

tw: mentions of murder and manipulation, headcanons so if dont like it dont read, okay it feels more like a story but kshssksksj

Its longer than i like and expected

Idk if i understood it correctly, but your nen will be an entity of sorts, Kira, who owns something like a death note but the person doesnt have to die, they can just do whats written in it and then go on with living.

────୨ৎ────

ꨄ︎ Getting tired of your modeling career was something to be expected, the toxic beauty standarts were very annoying, also having people behind your back constantly was just draining, so you ran away.

ꨄ︎ You being an exceptional child learned nen at a very young age, thanks to your nen teacher, so you figured you could expand your abilities and go to take the Hunter exam, I mean people say it's hard right?

ꨄ︎ Upon arrival you immediately notice some interesting people, so far, mostly number 44, who's aura is very interesting, however its pink!! How cute !!

ꨄ︎ Waiting for some time bored you very much, but more interesting people started appearing like number 301, 99 or 294. Only 301 and 44 appeared to know nen though !!

ꨄ︎ How boring !!

ꨄ︎ You bet you could fight and win against all of those people, using your nen ability of course, you might be wondering why did you choose an ability like this, well it is really simple. In the world of modeling and acting, you need people to like you and do what you want, whether it's to not go through some stuff you don't want to, or to higher your pay, maybe just living comfortably. But from whatever point of view you look at it, it's useful.

ꨄ︎ Waiting for few more hours, and being in a room with other 404 applicants was honestly suffocating. You could basically cut through the tension in the air. Everyone was so tense, guys chill it won't be that hard !!

ꨄ︎ I mean i am sure it is the stares that everyone is giving Tonpa, who is currently trying to poison some newbies, number 403, 404 and 405. How interesting...

ꨄ︎ Being led through a very long tunel was also very interesting, i mean, the people here are dropping like flies, losers.

ꨄ︎ But being approached by a green kid who told you that you look strong was something you didn't expect, you thought you hid your strenght well !!

ꨄ︎ But he was fun to hang out around, so you stayed, getting joined by another kid your age later on, number 99, one of the interesting people here.

ꨄ︎ And that is when your life finally started getting interesting.

(why is the beggining longer than headcanons i usually do ;-;)

ꨄ︎ Exploring the airship with the two boys made it really interesting, especially hearing their bacstories, why is everyone here fatherless or has a toxic family...including you, the stare you got from Killua when you told them your parents were assassinated was wild...He might know, you figured, but of course it couldn't have been him, he is not strong enough for that yet...

ꨄ︎ Then getting separated from them in the third and partially fourth phase too was very boring, it was so quiet without them...

ꨄ︎ After you passed the exam, and went to save Killua from his crazy family, you were all together again, and training to get stronger. Mostly on the punching bags in the Heavens Arena...uhhh Humans

ꨄ︎ Unfortunately many people have recognized you, since you were a model and acted in a lot of movies, how annoying, so Killua started being protective over you, subconsciously though. (too ooc?)

ꨄ︎ Months after that, while you guys were on the Whale Island, Killua decided to tag with you and Gon while he finds his dad and you find the person who murdered your parents. Sweet.

ꨄ︎ During the Yorknew arc having been recognized by even more people was so annoying, i mean you couldn't even partake in Kurapikas plan !! At least not like Gon and Killua, what a shame...you could just write some stuff and the boss of the Phantom Troupe could come to you !!

ꨄ︎ Either way, surviving all this while slowly catching feelings was very good. As you got into the game, Greed island and later reunited with your nen teacher, Bisky, everything seemed ideal, at least until you had to leave, it was so fun here !! No anoying 12 year olds fawning over Killua when you walked on the street, it is wrong to kill children after all, no perverted men eyeing you up and down- that was a lie, but still... it is wrong to kill people in general but the latter was fun

ꨄ︎ And now you had to fight some stupid BUGS ?! no.

ꨄ︎ Of course you will, you cannot just leave them, i mean the only thing stopping you are your feelings, but that doesn't change anything...

ꨄ︎ Of course after all this mess you were brought into, you weren't able to confess either. It hurts. It really does, but Gon...he is in bad condition so you gotta set the priorities straight.

ꨄ︎ In the end, Gon met his father, and you met Alluka, how cute, blurting out that you love her brother wasn't so cute, but hey, she supports you !!

ꨄ︎ Telling Killua that you love him right before leaving to kill his older brother who killed your parents wasnt cute either. But hey who cares right ?? We only live once, and you want to kill Illumi Zoldyck you might not live much longer, what do you have to lose.

ꨄ︎ Him trying to stop you wasn't very flashy either...

ꨄ︎ But you cannot leave him now can you ?? Illumi will wait, after all, who can kill him if not you ??

────୨ৎ────

I don't like it a a a a

[harukamitsuki]

Okay... I am currently back on my Voltron bullshit and continuing my rewrite of Voltron. And I'm constantly reminding of HOW MUCH I HATE LANCE.

Don't get me wrong. I am still treating Lance fairly in my fic, making sure he gets screen-time and a proper character acr and stuff.

But by GODS. This man pisses me off so much and that's only made worse by his stans. I was scrolling through Keith's tag here on tumblr. I also have Kl@nce filtered out. I cannot see a single post without at least three pages of scrolling and then it's only ONE POST. AND IT'S STILL KLANCE BECAUSE IT HASN'T BEEN TAGGED CORRECTLY.

Anyway. Onto the actual things I hate about Lance and not just his fandom.

Lance is a fucking asshole. I mean that on the deepest level. Let's go through it chronologically because I cannot rank it from least to most assholery, because some things are on the same level.

1 - Allura wakes up from the cryopod and Lances catches her. She's confused and dazed and the first thing you should do is ask if she's alright. Oh, but Lance is above that. Instead, he flirts with her. Karma given immediately as she calls his ears hideous and puts him in a submission hold, which is why I kept that scene in my fic, but that was still wrong. I know it was played for comedic effect, but that doesn't make it not canon. It's canonically accurate that if you've awoken from a coma, Lance's first instinct is to flirt with you if you're pretty.

2 - Literally throws Hunk into the middle of a battle. I get that Hunk was supposed to leave the Lion anyway, but just shoving him out when there are lasers everywhere and Hunk has no protection? Yeah. So much for 'best friend'. Add on the fact that Lance never really treats Hunk like a friend. At all.

3 - Okay. Season 1 Lance isn't bad outside of those two examples, even if he has his dumb moments, so let's jump to Season 2. Starting shit with Keith for no reason. People can go 'oh, Keith obviously did something to him at the Garrison' but he DIDN'T. The writers themselves confirmed that Keith did nothing to Lance, he just started shit with Keith all the fucking time. Like accussing Keith of wanting Blue and cutting him off when he tried to explain what was actually happening, even though Lance is the one who was outraged initially that Keith had Red. Or how about Lance getting up in Shiro's face and screaming his head off about how Keith would rather kill people than listen to them, as if he knew Keith at all after bullying him the entire time.

4 - Okay. This one pissed me off the most and is the biggest reason I'm making this post. The fact that Lance used Shiro's death/disappearance against Keith. Keith outwardly expresses his lack of desire to become the leader and accidentally let it slip that Shiro wanted him to do it. To which Lance is all 'convenient that you say that when Shiro's gone'. What. What the fuck. Stans really say that Lance is precious but how the hell are you justifying that? A blind man could see how much Keith loves Shiro, and Lance has the fucking gall the say that Keith is USING his death/disappearance for a position he doesn't want? He didn't even apologise for it. He just told Keith to suck it up later on. This is one of the reasons I hated Lance as the Red Paladin, the others being explained in an earlier post of mine.

5 - Oh, yeah. We're not done. Because after Keith, it's Allura. Allur@nce is probably the worst ship that could have happened, apart from Kl@nce. If you wanted a straight ship, how about what was canon for the past Voltron series? Kallura? Anyway. Yeah, Lance treats Allura like a prize instead of a person. He's posessive in a way that he has no right to be because they were not together. He glares at Matt for flirting with Allura, something he only does once. He gets mad at Lotor and tries to stop them from spending time together, EVEN THOUGH LOTOR IS HELPING ALLURA AND BONDING THROUGH ALTEAN THINGS. HELPING HER KEEP IN TOUCH WITH ALTEAN CULTURE. In Season 8, he literally yells that it should be Lance and Allura?? What a fucking weirdo?? You can't claim that you're destined to be with someone without being together. That's not how healthy relationships work. That's how a stalker's mind works. Lance is constantly flirting with Allura throughout all of Voltron and she never once reciprocated until Season 8 where it's so obvious that Lance is just a rebound but the writers wanna make it so that it's 'true love' and they want Lance to be happier than anyone so they just gift her to him like some sort of trophy. Lance didn't care about loving Allura, he cared about winning her. At least Lotor actually cared for and respected her. I still don't like canon Lotor, but that's mostly because the writers didn't want to deal with gray morality. Cowards.

1 - Honestly the worst example of a leader. It's shown from episode one. Now, there is the argument of learning to become one, but Lance just never learns? He's never facing the consequences of his actions and, if he is lectured, he ignores it. Keith actually takes lessons to heart and tries to improve and he does. If Lance became the Black Paladin, the universe would have been doomed because he can't get over himself for a single moment to even bother listening to anyone else's advice.

So. Yeah. Those are the main reasons why Lance is an asshole. Now to make the Lance stans really pissed.

Reasons why Lance would have been a terrible leader and could never have been the Black Paladin.

Remember episode one? Remember how the hydraulic stabiliser was out in the simulator and Lance still tried to push on, even though Pidge and Hunk advised him not to? Totally great leadership qualities there. There's nothing better than a leader that refuses to listen to you. 'Oh, but Keith is stubborn and didn't listen--' yes he did. He's stubborn and unrelenting at first, but he eventually realises that they're right.

Remember episode three? Remember when Lance bragged about kicking, which made Voltron fall, then proceeded to try it again and failed again even when Keith advised him not to? Yeah. Lance does not make good decisions and does not listen to any advise. Even from the leader's right hand man.

Remember Season 1 Episode 12? Remember how they were waiting for Shiro and Allura to get back and then Keith saw someone taking quintessence so he decided to follow them? Remember how Lance said no and was ignored but did nothing more to stop Keith? He has no authority and no charisma to keep anyone at bay. Pidge herself mocks Lance for being the pinnacle for leadership. Sarcastically. Because he's far from it.

Pidge doesn't respect Lance as a leader, Keith never would considering Lance treats him like shit, Allura can't take Lance seriously with him hitting on her every ten seconds, and Hunk is always questioning Lance's decisions. If nobody respects you, you cannot be a good leader.

2 - Easily distracted. Yes, it's a very popular headcanon that Lance has ADHD, and I agree with that, but that doesn't make it okay. And he's distracted in the easiest ways. Just shove a pretty girl and he'll instantly get distracted and lead the entire team to doom. Remember Nyma and how easy it was for her to steal the Blue Lion? How he didn't even warn anyone that he was taking her out for a ride because he didn't want anyone contesting his conquest? Yeah.

Don't get me wrong. It's fine to have ADHD or get distracted easily. Monkey D. Luffy from One Piece is a great example of a leader who gets easily distracted, but the second he sets his mind on something, he blocks everything out. Lance just doesn't have the capability to do that, nor do I think he'd be able to learn how to.

3 - Gets jealous really easily. As in. Really fucking easily. He's jealous of Keith from the get-go, starting a one-sided rivalry that he's constantly on the losing side of because Keith doesn't care. He gets jealous of Matt when he flirts a bit with Allura. He gets extremely jealous of Lotor for having actual chemistry with Allura. He's constantly jealous and a good leader is only ever in competition with himself. A good leader will only strive to become better for the sake of the team, not to say that they're better than someone else, much less if they're someone that you are in charge of. It's a horrible trait to have.

Jealousy in and of itself is not a bad thing. It's when that jealousy overrides your logic and controls you, instead of you controlling your jealousy: which Lance struggles with a lot. And getting jealous over anyone who even looks at your crush is a very bad thing to do because you do not own your crush. It's okay to be jealous, but not posessively like Lance is. Not to the extent of trying to scare off any potential suitors.

4 - Nowhere near as skilled as Keith or Shiro. Sure, the writers may claim that he is better, but the proof is in the pudding. Keith and Shiro are fucking unmatched. I've defended Lance's skills in a previous post, but I also said in that post that, while he is skilled, he is nowhere near Shiro or Keith's level. I mean, Shiro was the golden child of the Garrison and set so many records. He was known as the best pilot. Keith beat those records and his flying capabilities are always, always noted. I haven't heard a single character comment on Lance's skills, other than to point out how bad they are. Keith was the only one who could have flew through the astroid field, he was the only one who could fly into the Marmora base which was in a blue star surrounded by two black holes, he was able to fly a Galra jet just by pushing the right buttons and knowing what the do, and he's the one who unlocks the warping abilities of the Black Lion. Shiro was able to connect with the Black Lion far before anyone else, able to see through Black and connect with Black to the point of his soul being saved by her.

Lance hasn't done anything spectacular. And, no. He was not 'done dirty'. He was given almost everything he wanted except the Black Lion. The writers claim he's the best pilot, but have not shown it at all. In my eyes, Keith and Shiro will always be the best.

5 - Selfish. Again. Nothing against being selfish. It's perfectly fine to be selfish, so long as it doesn't actively harm others. But for a leader? You should be as selfless as you can be. The team comes before you. And that's exactly what Lance isn't.

Lance is selfish and that's okay, but it's not leadership material. The whole reason Black rejected him is because he wanted the position out of selfish reasons. When he enters Black, he says 'Come on, Lance. You can do this'. In other words, he wants to pilot her because he wants to prove himself. He wants the acknowledgement. He wants the title of the Black Paladin and leader. Black accepted Keith, both at the start of Season 2 and Season 3, because he piloted her for purely selfless reasons. For Shiro.

Lance wants things for himself. Keith wanted things for Shiro. It was only after Shiro came back, (or so they thought), that Keith started focusing more on himself. Even then, he put everyone else before him. He distanced himself from the team so that Shiro could pilot Black again, and he was constantly risking his life for the Blades.

Lance just... isn't the type. He has put others before himself, but he expect things out of it. He expects a parade and acknowledgement. Nobody knew what Shiro went through to rid Zarkon of his connection to the Black Lion. Nobody knew what Shiro went through in his imprisonment because he doesn't want to burden anyone with that. Nobody knew what Keith went through to save Black and Shiro from Zarkon. Nobody knew what Keith went through when they were all mad at him for missing an attack. Lance doesn't withold that sort of stuff. The only thing he doesn't talk about is his insecurities, which he ends up spilling to the mice and Laika (the Yupper) anyway.

6 - Last one. Promise.

Nothing fucking happened. While Keith was gone, nothing of importance happened surrounding Voltron specifically. There was the Lion mind meld and Lotor joining, but all that served to prove was, with the mind meld, if Keith was there, he would have heard Shiro. And with Lotor joining, all it proved was how immature Lance was.

The second Keith gets back, things start happening again. Lotor gets outed as cruel and manipulative (still an ass-pull, by the way), Shiro gets outed as a clone, and so on. If Lance was leading, they all probably would have died ages ago. I'm talking Season 3 Episode 2, ages ago. Because Lance just isn't cut out for it.

So. Yeah. Those are the main reasons I hate Lance and why Black Paladin Lance is an awful idea. Screw the people who believe in it. It is awful.

Like I said, this won't affect my treatment of Lance in my rewrite, because I can fix those issues that come up. I don't have an issue with Season 1 Lance, it's later on that gets problematic. I just hate people building Lance up by bashing all the other characters, then claiming that Lance is the most traumatised, sad character when SHIRO AND KEITH ARE RIGHT THERE. NOT TO MENTION ALLURA, WHO LOST HER ENTIRE SPECIES, AND CORAN WHO LOST EVERYONE INCLUDING ALLURA AND NEVER GOT TO SAY GOODBYE TO HER.

Fuck. I hate Voltron so much but I can't help but love it.

[angeliqueiguess]

Crushing Hard, Lifting Heavy (Pt. 1)

w.count: 2.1k

pairing: gymtrainer! jeno x afab!reader

genre: little fic (based on this requested moodboard)

summary: Lee Jeno, Y/n's charismatic trainer, keeps her motivated through every session. She tells herself it’s just professional, but who knows… She could be wrong.

tags: swearing, suggestive, kindness king jeno, yn being oblivious most of the time (dont hate me its just in the first part) snarky comments, sarcasm, fem reader but it doesnt specify how she looks like.

Since Y/N started training at that gym, her life changed completely. She wasn't doing it to look better, but to take care of her mental health; exercise motivated her to keep going... That, and her trainer: Lee Jeno.

A tall guy with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, sweet features, and smiling eyes that seemed to light up everything around him. Although Y/N could describe him perfectly, there was something about him that she couldn’t quite understand: his attitude. Jeno wasn't serious or distant; on the contrary, his kindness was almost excessive, and that left her feeling puzzled.

—Let me help you with that —Jeno said, taking the dumbbells from her hands, lightly brushing his fingers against hers before placing them on the floor in front of her.

—You need to position yourself correctly, with your feet parallel, okay? —He gave her a direct look that made Y/N immediately look away, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. Jeno noticed but simply smiled calmly.

—Thank you —she murmured, her voice soft and almost shy.

Without realizing it, she remained in the same position. Then Jeno placed both hands on her shoulders, turning her toward the mirror. He positioned himself behind her, maintaining a careful distance—close enough to guide her, but not too close to create discomfort or raise suspicions among the other gym clients.

—Alright, now take the dumbbells and relax your arms before flexing them —Jeno instructed calmly, stepping away to stand beside her while explaining how to perform the exercise. With precise movements, he demonstrated the technique with his own body before moving back behind her.

Y/N nodded silently and innocently leaned down to pick up the small dumbbells, unaware that Jeno had returned to his previous position. Hir breath caught for a moment as he glanced at her figure. I'm just a man, he thought to himself. Clearing his throat to regain his composure, he forced a somewhat fake smile before speaking again.

—Good job. If you have any questions, I’ll be where I always am —he said, turning to walk away, slightly flushed. She turned around just to watch him leave, admiring the silhouette of his broad, well-defined back as he walked away.

Every time Y/n finished her routine and packed her things to head home, she noticed that Jeno was always nearby to say goodbye. At first, she thought it was part of his job and that he did it for all his clients, considering it a gym policy.

—Will you come tomorrow? —he asked, setting aside his water bottle, which was always by his side. She smiled with a hint of sadness, knowing she couldn’t attend.

—I can’t, I’m sorry —she replied, nervously adjusting her bag as she noticed that most of the clients were starting to leave. Jeno tilted his head slightly, raising an eyebrow in a curious gesture.

—Are you already bored of your trainer? —he remarked suggestively. Y/N opened her mouth to speak but only managed to stammer softly.

—N-no —she cleared her throat and, with a bit more determination, added—: It’s not that, it’s just that I have plans. —She laughed nervously, feeling somewhat embarrassed, and Jeno smiled knowingly. He sat down on one of the stools scattered around the gym.

—It’s okay, I was just joking with you. Anyway, we’ll see each other when you’re free to keep training, alright? —Jeno said as Y/N nodded with a smile. She inclined her head slightly in a gesture of farewell, and he did the same.

—Take care and have fun —he told her as she turned to walk toward the exit. Jeno stayed behind, watching her, feeling as if his eyes were magnetically drawn to her figure.

He sighed as he watched her leave, just as his coworker approached.

—If I were you, I would have done things that are beyond words —Jaemin said shamelessly, looking toward the exit before leaning on Jeno's shoulder, who let out a huff and shrugged Jaemin’s arm off.

—Don’t talk about her like that —Jeno replied, frowning as he looked at Jaemin with disapproval.

—Hey, I'm just a man; don’t blame me —Jaemin defended, raising his hands slightly as he stepped back a bit.—Still, I’m surprised —he said, looking at Jeno with confusion.

—What do you mean? —he asked, furrowing his brow.

—You haven't even invited her out, man —he paused—. How long has she been training here? A year? —Jaemin tilted his head, scrutinizing his friend.

—A year and three months —Jeno answered, to which his friend let out a laugh that echoed through almost the entire gym, not caring about the clients still there.

—Shut your stupid ass up —Jeno retorted with a locked jaw, annoyed and not expecting a response from his colleague.

—My man, you’re completely whipped—Jaemin shook his head as he walked away, leaving Jeno lost in thought.

All this time, he had been assisting her, listening to her... and desiring her. He longed to be the lucky one to do "things that go beyond words," as Jaemin put it. He knew she didn't have a partner; she made it clear by telling him everything since he was the only one she talked to between sets. Sometimes, that even managed to annoy Mark, his boss, but Jeno didn’t care at all, he was too whipped to care.

It had been a week. Seven days where Jeno had done nothing but overthink, searching for the perfect plan to ask her out without it blowing up in his face. The last thing he wanted was for her to stop talking to him or, worse, switch gyms just to avoid him.

—Bro, it’s easy. Just ask her when she’s leaving, —Jaemin said from the other end of the line.

Jeno stayed silent, jaw clenched. He was desperate—so much so that he’d called Jaemin for advice, something he’d never do under normal circumstances. But this time, he didn’t have a choice.

Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair, messing it up as some strands fell over his forehead.

—It’s not that simple, Jaemin. If you were in my shoes, you’d be just as stressed as I am,—he muttered, trying to keep it together as Jaemin burst into laughter.

—What if I ask her out for you? I don’t mind doing it.—

—Shut the hell up, Jaemin, —Jeno growled, feeling a surge of anger rise like a wave of heat. —If you even try, I swear I’ll break every fucking existing bone in your body.—

The threat came out more serious than he intended. Just imagining Jaemin flirting with her made Jeno’s blood boil—it was like defending what he wanted most, as if she were his prey.

—Whoa, chill! I was kidding,— Jaemin said with a nervous laugh, fully aware that Jeno’s temper wasn’t something to take lightly.

Jeno let out a long sigh, dropping his phone on the kitchen counter and switching it to speaker mode to free up his hands. As he rubbed the back of his neck, he paced around the room, trying to calm himself.

—You’re useless. I don’t even know why I ask you for advice,— Jeno muttered, turning to pour himself a glass of water. He stared at it for a moment before quietly admitting, —I don’t know what’s wrong with me... Every time I see her, something lights up inside me.—

—You sure it's not your dick?,— Jaemin said smugly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Jeno pressed his lips together, tempted to hang up, but Jaemin was the only “help” he had—even if it was terrible help.

—Shut the fuck up,— Jeno snapped, placing the glass next to the phone. —That’s it. I’ll ask her out tomorrow.—

Jaemin responded with celebratory noises, as if Jeno had just achieved the impossible.

—You’re welcome, by the way,— Jaemin added with a satisfied tone.

Jeno clicked his tongue, irritated.

—You didn’t help at all,— he shot back before hanging up, cutting the conversation short.

Now, only the hardest part remained: asking her.

Today was the day. Jeno woke up earlier than usual—way too early for his liking. He glanced at the clock and cursed under his breath, dragging himself to the bathroom for a shower. The cold water was the only thing that helped him clear his mind, the one time he could think without distractions.

As soon as he saw her walk through the gym doors, he felt the blood rush to his head, pooling at the tips of his ears, which were probably glowing red by now. Before he could react, Jaemin appeared behind him with a mischievous grin and pinched his right ear.

—Motherfu— Jeno muttered, delivering a quick but solid punch to Jaemin’s arm.

Jaemin yelped dramatically, clutching his bicep like he’d been gravely wounded.

The noise caught Y/n’s attention, and she glanced over at them. Her gaze landed on Jaemin, rubbing his arm theatrically, and then on Jeno, who had looked up at just the wrong moment. He froze, realizing she might have heard his friend’s exaggerated complaint.

Without missing a beat, Jeno flashed a wide smile—an expression that starkly contrasted with his earlier seriousness.

She smiled back, giving him a small wave before heading to the lockers. She set her bag down calmly, getting ready to start her workout, unfazed by the brief spectacle she’d witnessed.

Jeno kept watching her discreetly, careful not to make it obvious. For once, Jaemin didn’t tease him, still nursing his bruised pride from the earlier punch. Not that Jeno cared—his attention was entirely on Y/n, who seemed completely absorbed in her routine.

His gaze shifted between her, the gym machines, and the clock, repeating the cycle endlessly. He knew exactly when she’d finish, and he’d been anticipating this moment all week. He scolded himself internally for being so obsessed, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t help it.

He took a few measured steps toward her, pretending to adjust a nearby machine. It was a weak excuse, but at least it wouldn’t seem too obvious.

Then, he saw her pick up her water bottle. Time slowed as he fixated on the way she drank, following every movement involuntarily. It only lasted a second, but long enough for Jeno to notice a couple of droplets escape the bottle, sliding down her chin and tracing a slow path downward. He swallowed hard, mentally cursing himself for getting caught in the moment. He tore his gaze away, forcing himself to think of anything else. Just when he was about to let it go, something unexpected happened.

She spoke.

Y/n took the initiative, catching Jeno completely off guard. Until now, he had always been the one to start conversations, but today, for some reason, she made the first move.

—Hey, again,—she said with a soft smile.

Jeno tilted his head slightly to meet her gaze, given the small difference in height between them.

—I didn’t want to bother you today, so I followed yesterday’s routine,— she explained.

—Bother me? Why would you bother me?— Jeno asked, trying to sound calm, though he looked away briefly to hide his nerves.

—I saw your friend earlier. He seemed...hurt?— she replied, glancing in Jaemin’s direction. That idiot, Jeno thought with a sigh.

—Oh, him? Don’t worry—Jaemin’s always like that,— Jeno said dismissively.

She nodded without giving it much thought and headed toward her locker.

—You’re leaving already?— Jeno blurted out, immediately regretting how stupid it sounded.

—Yeah… I’m done for today,— Y/n answered with a light laugh, amused by her trainer’s awkwardness.

The gym was slowly emptying, creating the perfect opportunity. Jeno took a small step closer, grateful for the growing privacy of the moment.

—Why?— she added, placing her empty water bottle into her bag.

Here goes nothing. No risk, no reward, he told himself.

—Sorry if this is inappropriate...— He paused, gathering his courage. —But I like you, and… I was wondering if you’d like to grab a drink sometime?—

The words came out smoothly, almost as if he’d rehearsed them—which, of course, he had, a thousand times over in every corner of his house.

She stared at him in disbelief, taking a second to process what he’d just said. Jeno braced himself for rejection… but to his surprise, it didn’t come.

A shy smile appeared on her face, followed by a soft, breathy sigh.

She nodded.

In that instant, Jeno felt like he had conquered the entire world, as if he were the luckiest man alive. He stood there, stunned, until he realized her lips were moving, though he hadn’t heard her.

—Sorry, I didn’t catch that,— he admitted, embarrassed.

She looked away, blushing, aware that her charming trainer had just asked her out and was now hanging on to her every word.

—I said yes… and I’m free on Friday,— she repeated, her voice soft and velvety, sweeter than anything Jeno had ever heard.

—Great, perfect!— Jeno stammered, feeling his nerves betray him. —Uh… how about six?—

—Six works,— she confirmed, heading toward the door just as the gym emptied out.

—Wait!— Jeno called after her, making her turn back. —Can I get your number?—

—Oh, right. Sorry!— she said, pulling her phone from her gym bag. —I’m not used to being asked out,— she admitted, slightly embarrassed.

Jeno smiled, barely resisting the urge to kiss her right then and there. Who in their right mind wouldn’t ask her out? he thought, fingers trembling as he saved her number.

Of course, he’d be there at six.

Angelique's note: Helloooo! OMG, this is fire 🔥my brain was totally fried by the time I finished writing this, oof. So, this was supposed to be a one-shot, but I kinda got carried away, and now it’s a three-part mini-fic. 😅 Please don’t hate me, I swear I love y’all!

I really hope you enjoy it! As always, likes and follows mean the world. Take care of yourselves and don’t forget to drink water, okay? 💙

Taglist open!

[aithusarosekiller]

HGIHIHIII U SEEM NICE AND ALSO COOL SO HIII :D

DO U HAVE ANY JEGULILY HCS?? I SAW U LIKED THEM IN ANOTHRR POST!!

HI HI HI HI I AM LITERALLY SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO REPLY I KEPT HAVING IDEAS THEN GETTING DISTRACTED AND AAAAAAAAA I AM HERE NOW!!!

Yes I absolutely doooooo, they are my babies and I will gladly share everything I think about them don't you even worry!

ALSO before anyone wastes time whining that jily is tagged here, there are literally jily hcs in the post and I always tag correctly so if it bothers you so much, go to settings and filter out the jegulily tag and then it's gone x

OKAY

- I love the idea that Regulus used family heirlooms in order to make promise rings for both of them because his ancestors would absolutely hate it and sometimes he feels like he has to prove that part of his past wrong and keep pushing back to remind himself that who he was brainwashed to be is NOT who he is. It it actually Lily who suggests reusing heirlooms to give them a new meaning as an idea and he decides to do it and use them as a way to promise to spend his life with them. He's a romantic, what can I say! (in fact, in the longfic I'm planning, Lily having the black signet ring is a recurring feature with quite a lot of weight!) despite Regulus being the one with the promise rings, it is Lily who proposes (it is ALWAYS Lily no matter who I ship her with) and then because they're all for equality in their relationship it's James who announces the wedding and asks Lily's parents and Sirius/Narcissa for permission to marry them. I just love married jegulily idk

- Regulily watch the most disturbing shows together in the middle of the night to the point where James has to go to bed early to miss them or he can't sleep. Eventually they convince him to stay downstairs and just listen to music in his earphones while laying across their laps but he refuses to watch the screen. During the day he's the biggest, toughest guy imaginable. Nothing can phase him at all. But after midnight? ABSOLUTELY NOT. He almost turns into a completely different person. It is not helped by the folk tales Fleamont told him as a kid to mess with him, not realising just how much they would stick with him in years to come.

- James cooks dinner, Lily makes dessert, Regulus cleans. You just know Lily makes the best apple pie with the lattice top and everything 🙏 James can do pretty much anything well, and Regulus is decent at both but doesn't really enjoy it so he does all the washing up because he likes the way it gives him time to stare into the water and think

- not much to this one but I love them being T4T4T SOOOOO much! They're the transest trio ever. They just are sorry, I know because I am trans so I'm allowed to spread it around wherever I want 🤷‍♂️

- Lily gets really warm and stressed under too much physical contact. If they're all cuddled together she'll be on the outside with Reg's face in her neck and one of James' hands on her waist but most of the time she'll only pick one of them to cuddle up to so she doesn't get overwhelmed. Regulus is always in the middle, he's touch starved to the point where refusing to hug him is like kicking a puppy

- In an au where their all raise Harry together, he's the biggest mummy's boy. There is NO way Lily isn't his favourite parent. It's always 'where's mum?' 'If mummy was here-' 'I miss mummy' she pretends to feel bad for them both but secretly loves it

- James falls asleep ANYWHERE. It's not rare at all to find him curled up on the floor while sorting laundry or snoozing in the passenger seat on a short drive. He's also a very deep sleeper, so they'll just give him a little kiss on the head, take a photo for the growing collection there saving for his 50th birthday, and cover him with a blanket.

- James and Lily go to concerts together. It's one of their favourite types of date. James and Regulus go to the cinema (Lily got them into films and they have never looked back some) and Regulus and Lily adore going to the theatre. They all like going to museums together.

- for their first anniversary, Peter got them a little orange tree that everyone expected Lily to care for the most bc she'd always been really good in jerbologj so they're all surprised when it becomes Regulus' little baby with only the best fertiliser and plant food that he forces James to get whenever he passes through Diagon.

- Every morning Reg and Lily sit and do the sudoku together

- Whenever James spends time out of the country, he'll bring back something nice for each of his friends and partners (it's his love language!) he puts so much thought into into each one that sometimes he'll dedicate an entire day of the trip to finding the perfect gift for each person

[dcangel]

hi hi! i saw that u were asking for reqs and prompt 29 rlly had me thinking… imagine you’ve been there for 2 years and are the only girl, and you don’t socialize much, you do your part and keep to yourself so no one knows much abt you. but when thomas shows up, he continues to bug you with questions/bother you including why ur the only girl there. there’s a lot of tension and one night he wonders off in the woods he finds you and one thing leads to another and it happens..!

AHH okay this is sending me to hell bc my mind is going feral just thinking about it and I literally am so excited to write this one. And thank you so much for requesting one <333 (this is my first time writing smut so bear with me)

Idk how to tag these correctly bc I’ve never posted anything but if I’m wrong just correct me: p in v, slight fingering, praising, degrading, dirty talk, mentions of edging, mentions of getting caught, choking kink, slight size kink, slight/moderate pain kink, oral sex!f receiving, a few uses of y/n, nicknames, 2nd person pov. Majorly unedited and not proofread (grammarly told me there were 149 errors but it’s 2:24 in the morning so grammarly can kindly fuck off. hopefully this is bearable to read.)

8238 words (what thee actual fuck)

29– Thomas

“Don’t muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I’m fucking you.”

The last few days were… something else. Like clockwork every month, another greenie arrived, but to you that just meant another person bugging the shit out of you until they got over it. What were you supposed to tell them? That you just felt like coming up into the maze and trapping yourself here for two years just because you were bored? Every single greenie, without fail, always pestered you like a small gnat swirling around your ear each day; “why are you the only girl? Why are you here? Is it hard being the only girl?” And of course the alarmingly obviously questions that crossed every new shank’s mind, but only few braved to ask.

You mostly managed to steer clear of the lewd obscenities, letting the few friends you made take care of it for you since it got to be an irritable subject for you very quickly. But, unfortunately, there were some that wanted to ask the girl herself. Some that didn’t even know your name, yet still approached you with a supercilious guise thinking that it would somehow win you over. Each time it made you wonder what they put in these new greenies before sending them up; they just kept getting worse and worse.

Majority of the gladers knew your name, but then again how could they not? Some knew it but just decided to call you whatever you wanted; as if you being a girl made you less human and more of an object. Those were the boys that could only dream of touching a girl, never mind even being able to hookup with one.

You were surprised by the amount of people that actually treated you as equal, even though it was the bare fucking minimum. Sometimes you found it ironic how Chuck—the youngest glader here—didn’t even think twice about your humanity status when half the so-called “men” in this place treated you like scut. The boy having stated many times that “you’re a human too, just like the rest of us. We each play our part and at the end of the day; work is work. It doesn’t matter how old you are or if you’re a guy or a girl.” You think one of the reasons you were such good friends with the boy was because he could easily relate to your struggles; him being the youngest glader and always treated like a baby who couldn’t comprehend the simplest things, and you being the only girl who’s treated like shit because apparently women can’t possibly be able to do the same things as men. You were both deeply misunderstood, and that served as a foundation for one of your closest relationships.

Of course the leader, Alby, had always said the same; you were to be treated as equal. He’d even brought up the fact that it was dispiriting that the matter was even a question at all. Some days were worse than others, only granting you the energy to will yourself out of the small hut Gally and few others helped you build, at the last possible second and skipping breakfast as you trudged your way over to the gardens, taking your place by Newt. From there, maybe you’d have an occasional conversation about the dirt that constantly flung into your eyes, automatically irritating both your sight and your mood, or maybe about how brutally the blazing sun treated your reddening shoulders and face.

But on those days—the bad ones—you kept silent, doing what you were told when you were told, taking part in the roles that made the glade work. Maybe you’d join the rest of the glade for supper, sitting with the very few people you called ‘friends’ but at the end of the table, hoping to avoid conversation that inevitably reeled you in. More often than not, bad days usually warranted you to take the meal to your hut after a quick ‘thanks’ to Frypan, then making the isolated trip to the comforting confines of your own space.

You tried keeping to yourself, afraid to get too close with anyone that wasn’t Chuck or Newt, but of course your name was brought up quite often. It never made sense, though; you rarely interacted with anyone, even the people you exchanged words with on occasion, not much was known about you. You even tried to avoid being seen as often as possible in hopes that your absence would somehow make the gladers forget about your existence.

Yet every month when a new greenie was sent up, terrified and questioning their entire existence, it also started a new uproar around your name. So with Thomas, it was no different. Well, almost no different.

After he showed up, he wasn’t subtle with his intentions like most were—always asking anyone he could about anything that might make you more 3-dimensional in his eyes. So when he saw you talking to Chuck and ruffling the young boy’s hair, he used their already-forming bond to his advantage.

“Hey, Chuck, who was that?” He pretended to be oblivious as if he hadn’t been staring at you all day every day, the way your hair was always tied back in a single low braid, how the small strands that were too short slipped from the crossed-pattern and framed your face, how your sun-kissed nose scrunched whenever some minor inconvenience passed your way or the way your head tilted ever-so-slightly as a way to show your confusion.

He was well aware that this most certainly happened with every new arrival; the pestering questions, the intrusive thoughts, yet he was infatuated with wanting to know absolutely everything he could.

“Who? Her?” Chuck followed the older boy’s gaze, quickly losing interest once he saw where it led.

Thomas’s gaze, however, didn’t falter. He couldn’t decide what part of you to focus on. Maybe the way you effortlessly carried buckets and buckets of whatever the hell was needed for gardening, but it looked heavy enough to make him stare in awe. He was shameless. “Yes her. Who is she?”

“A person.” Chuck answered, being frustratingly vague.

Thomas finally pulled his brown eyes from you, landing them on the smaller boy beside him. “What’s her name?”

“Why does it matter?” The young boy was all too familiar with the questions of each newbie, most greenies coming to Chuck for the same thing each month that became almost a routine to give out as little information as possible to protect his friend.

Thomas sighed, mentally rolling his eyes. “Because I wanna’ know.” He answered bluntly.

“You wouldn’t care what that guy’s name is,” Chuck pointed to a builder named Dan. “So why do you care what her name is?”

The greenie squinted his eyes, jaw clenched in slight irritation, the veins on his neck becoming more prominent than before. “Because I just want to know?”

“Y/N, her name is Y/N. There.” Chuck’s bitter tone was definitely a eye-opener, the boy usually sweet and happy to make new friends.

“Thanks.” Thomas managed to get a small thumbs up in return as Chuck walked further away, obviously done with their conversation.

. . .

The next few days left Thomas’s curiosity at a higher peak, even worse than when he first got here—before he knew about the girl. Luckily Chuck had told you each time the greenie asked another question, and you couldn’t express how grateful you were for the young boy since he never answered them.

However, despite Chuck’s anguished attempts at telling Thomas to leave you alone, the greenie pursued his interests in getting to know you more, although it was nearly inevitable that this would happen.

On this particular day, though, he couldn’t seem to find you. Much to his dismay, you were in the Deadheads, sitting by the small brook that always seemed to flow despite the enclosed glade. It was night, the sun long gone although the heat never seemed to leave. You liked the Deadheads, specifically the brook. It was quiet, nothing but the sounds of water trickling over small rocks and folding in on itself, and maybe the occasional leaf falling to the forest floor. The peaceful sounds were a drastic difference to the clanking of shovels on rocks that seemed to peeve each gardener, or tools hammering wood that echoed across the entire open glade.

It was rare, but sometimes you’d accidentally fall asleep in the woods due to the calming nature, serving for an aching back and sore neck that shot pain thorough your whole body when you craned it the wrong way. It would’ve been one of those nights, except the sounds of leaves crunching and twigs snapping under someone’s foot brought you back from your half-asleep state. You sat up against the tree, your legs crossing as you looked around. The only people who knew you came out here were sure to be asleep by now, Chuck always falling asleep the second the second he laid down on his hammock, and Newt knowing you didn’t like to be bothered out here.

You thought back to when Ben had been stung and was chasing Thomas through the Deadheads, and you thought the same was about to happen to you. Grabbing a small stick by your side— that would probably snap if any pressure were applied— you stood up and looked around the dark forest. The plush foliage provided little to no light, which left your eyes desperately trying to adjust to the darkness as quickly as possible.

You held the stick out in front of you and slowly backed up, occasionally spinning around to check behind you, the stick swinging through the air like it was wielded by a maniac.

The lack of light confused your senses, and somehow you didn’t you didn’t hear the cracking and snapping of leave and twigs, or feet the heat behind you getting closer and closer until your back slammed into something that scared you so bad you almost yelped as you whipped around to threaten whoever it was with the flimsy stick that almost snapped when you turned. You were greeted with an unfamiliar face, one that wasn’t just another in the sixty something faces in the glade that you had yet to learn the name of. It was a new one.

“Shit— sorry.” He muttered quickly, large, outstretched hands already on your shoulders to steady you.

You back up slightly, hoping his grip would fall off, and it did. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The boy automatically took to fiddling with his fingers, a nervous habit you guessed. “I, uh… I was looking for you, actually. Chuck told me you might be out here.”

You squinted your eyes slightly, not believing him since Chuck knew better than to tell a random greenie where you’d most likely be during your free time. “Did he?”

The greenie struggled to come up with an excuse, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the ground.

“Or did you just watch me come out here earlier with the plans of following me, hoping I’d still be here after you were done with your job?” You added with a raised brow, a clear annoyed tone evident in your voice.

“Wel— No that’s not— I mean… well, you’re probably used to the newbies bothering you—”

“Damn right I am. And I don’t expect you to be any different, so unless you have anything important to say, then I’m just gonna leave.” You got straight to the point, not caring to sugarcoat or be nice to him since you’d tried that before with other greenies, and it usually didn’t turn out well. You dropped your stick and started to turn away from him when you heard his footsteps following you again, his voice following soon after.

“Well, no, but I just wanted to talk to you. I don’t know you v—”

“So let’s keep it that way, yeah?” You said, sounding as if you were talking to a child.

He clenched and unclenched his fist, a small habit of his. “Could you just stop cutting me off?”

“Why should I?” You said, brown raised in annoyance as you crossed your arms, shifting your weight onto one leg.

“Because I fucking asked? It shouldn’t be that hard to be nice to someone.”

You scoffed, his attitude impressing you since it almost matched yours perfectly. You eyed him before opening your mouth to speak. “You’re right, it shouldn’t be. So why’re you making it so difficult then?” You asked, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, your head tilted coyly.

He let out a quick sigh, jaw clenching in irritation. “Because, all I did was try and talk to you and you’re being a bitch about it.”

Your head jerked back slightly, your eyebrows automatically raised with a taunting smile of disbelief creeping up. “You just can’t help it with the foul language can you?” You said with a laugh, one that seemed to get on his nerves even more. It was almost impressive how irritable he was. “Maybe you should try talking to directly instead of bugging my friends—especially Chuck— about me. Y’know, like a conversation or something? Maybe start off with a small introduction like your name or something a little less hostile.”

“Fine, I’m—”

“I know who you are.” It wasn’t intentional but you realized that you had cut him off again. But instead of apologizing, you almost wanted to see how pissed he could get before stomping off.

He was definitely contemplating it, almost losing interest since your attitude made him want to smash his head against a rock, but his pure stubbornness was what kept him standing there. “Again with the cutting me off! Is that all you ever do? ‘S that why you don’t have any friends.”

Being the only girl in a glade full of boys made this seem like nothing compared what else you’ve heard, so his little insults and slight temper tantrum did nothing. “Well you said you wanted to talk to me, and I’m assuming you wanted to get to know me more since all you ever do is bother Chuck.” You said with a shrug. “Come on, you can do better than that, I know you can.”

Something about your tone, the way it was taunting him, teasing him in a way that he couldn’t tell if he should hate you or want to slam you against a tree and— he shook his head, seemingly getting rid of whatever was going through his mind. “Why, you want me to insult you? Treat you like a piece of shit like everyone else does?”

You didn’t respond. Rather, you just stood there, not bothering to move as he subtly took a few slow steps toward you.

“Or maybe it’s something else?” He said, head tilting in a certain way that allowed the small streaks of moonlight peering through the spaces above that weren’t covered by trees to illuminate the beginnings of smug look on his freckled face.

Of course you knew what he looked like, he was a gardener the first few days so you had the displeasure of working near him, but something about him being up close and the way the shadowy brightness of the moon cast a perfect gleam allowed you to really notice his features. You had to admit, he wasn’t a bad looking guy; short brown hair, a perfect nose that could make anyone jealous, pale skin littered with moles and freckles that didn’t seem to be on just his face, golden-brown eyes that looked darker than in the daylight, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the tree coverage or some other reason…

“I bet it’s something else, isn’t it?” His voice was what snapped you from your thoughts, your eyes focusing back in on his darkening gaze.

“Huh?” You said, your eyes practically in slits at this point. You couldn’t tell if your question was actually a question, or if it was because you’d already forgotten what he asked before.

He took a step closer, yet he wasn’t actually that close. It was simply the darkness of the Deadheads and the way your other senses tried to account for your poor vision that made it seem like he was towering over you.

Or maybe he was.

“I said, are you just always a bitch like this, or do you do it because you like the way people respond. The way they get irritated and go off on you or treat you like shit all for you to complain about it afterwards.” You almost couldn’t believe his words. But what was less believable was the feeling that resonated in the pit of your stomach. One that had you thinking things you shouldn’t be.

“What? What the hell is wrong with you?” You spat out, trying to act offended.

His smirk grew, telling you that you reacted exactly how he expected. “You didn’t answer my question.” He took another step forward.

“I don’t have to.” You stepped back.

He noticed your slight step back, he also noticed the tree behind you—he same one you’d almost fallen asleep against earlier—getting closer each time. “I think it’s only fair that you do, so, go ahead. Answer it.”

Now, there were two ways you could’ve answered this. Which one did you choose? The one you knew would get the better reaction, of course. “Make me.”

One step later, you were already back up against the tree, seemingly nowhere to go (you could easily step to the side), and Thomas right in front of you, head tilted downwards to look at you because of the height difference. “I don’t think you really want me to. You’re just saying that.”

“Oh yeah? Try me.” You whispered lazily, a small gleam in your eyes as you looked up at him.

He brown ones bored into yours, an almost-mischievous glint behind them. He leaned down, his mouth inches from your ear, his hand against the tree on the other side of your head. “Maybe I will.”

You couldn’t help the way your knees felt weak, something about his voice; the raspiness embedded in his low, deep tone. “Maybe you should.” You breathed out, watching him pull back, his eyes flicking between your eyes and somewhere else.

His other hand slid around your waist, large palm being a source of heat as if the night air wasn’t already warm enough. It was torturous, the way his lips ghosted around your skin, every area he passed felt empty after the heat of his presence left, the way you felt his breath brush her face when he laughed at his own teasing actions.

His hand slid around to your lower back, pulling it forward in an arch as your upper back stayed against the tree. Thomas looked down at you, the very tip of his nose so close to yours that the heat radiating from him felt like he was actually touching you. You bit the inside of your cheek, never good with the whole ‘patience’ thing.

Thomas, on the other hand, could’ve dragged this out all night. But when he met your gaze, the look in your eye let the thought slip from his mind. It was when you whispered some words that didn’t quite stick in his brain against his lips, that’s what got to him. He bent down and connected your lips, the kiss wasn’t a slow, savoring-every-moment type of kiss. It was a hungry, sloppy, impatient kiss that made it seem like he was devouring you.

It was needy and heated, more teeth-clashing and tongue-tangling than anything. His lips were chapped and rough, but then again so we’re yours after two years in the glade.

His lips trailed down your cheek, then your jaw, then right under your jawline, nipping at the surprisingly soft skin. His lips followed your jawline until they were right under your ear, finding a sweet spot you didn’t even know you had.

You breathed out softly, biting the inside of your cheek as your head tilted backwards, hitting the bumpy bark of the tree. To your left was his outstretched arm that he used to hold himself up against a the tree, and to your right was his head, slightly buried in the crook of your neck as he peppered the spot with little nips as kisses. He freehand—the one that was on your lower back—slipped down to the curve of your ass, squeezing all around the plump skin.

“How’s this for getting to know you?” He breathed against your skin.

You bit your lip, just a little, but enough that his scrutinizing gaze caught it. “I think you, uh, you should get to know me just a little better, y’know?” You said, a small lump in the back of your throat that wouldn’t go down.

“Hmm, think I should, huh?” He teased.

“Mhm, yeah… y-you should.” You nodded, teeth gliding over your own bottom lip as you tugged his hair gently so he’d look up at you.

The heel of Thomas’s palm dug into your ass, prompting you to jump up a little. To jump right into his arms. Your thigh hitched up on his waist, his hand gliding from your ass to under your leg, finger tips reach the the inside of your thigh. Your other foot steady on the ground— well, would’ve been steady if you hadn’t stepped on a tree stump. Your footing faltered, twisting your ankle in the process and you pulled from the recently rekindled kiss to wince.

He chuckled and lifted up your other thigh, practically holding you up until you got the hint to wrap your legs around his waist. Your back was pressed into the tree, bare shoulders are partially-bare upper back collecting scratches and green moss smudges.

Thomas didn’t waste anymore time, the fingers of his free hand already sliding down your torso and half under the waistband of your jeans. He only stopped for a brief moment, looking up at you as you nodded back—maybe a little too eagerly.

He didn’t even bother to unbutton them or unzip them for the time being, his fingers twitching with the thought of touching you in mind. While he was just as impatient as you, he still managed to find the will in him to tease you. Two of his veiny fingers swipes over your panties, starting at the beginning of your wetness and dragging them all the way up to your cloth-covered clit. You couldn’t deny nor hide it anymore, you were soaked—rather, your panties were.

“Damn, this all for me? Guess you liked the idea of me proving you wrong, huh?” He taunted.

Your eyes bore into his like you wanted to say something snarky, but you literally could not lie. He felt it. He felt what he did to you. He knew the slight power he had over you—although you were sure he didn’t quite know just how much power he possessed.

Reluctantly, you tenaciously nodded up at him, just a very slight head movement that you hoped he’d miss, but of course he didn’t. You were grateful he didn’t respond, with words anyway, but you could see see the glint in his eye that made you want to kick him, slap him, anything you could to get your point across. But he made you weak in the knees, figuratively and literally since one of his hands was under your ass holding you up, your legs raveled around his waist and connected at his lower back.

At first, when you felt his hand leave your ass, you couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed by the loss of touch, or to expect your body to hit the ground. But it didn’t. He had you pinned against the tree, your legs already locked tightly around him, your arms slung around his neck.

His, now free, hand glides around to the front of your thigh, up your stomach (it would’ve gone under your shirt if he didn’t have other plans), over your tank top-covered breasts, fingers stopping momentarily to knead the dough-y flesh, and making their final stop around your throat just below your jaw—palm pressing against your airway loosely, pointer and thumb fingers settling below your ears on either side of your head.

The fingers caressing your sopping panties also became more active; drawing slow lines up and down.

“T-Thomas,” you stuttered, not because he hand was that tight, but simply because it was tight enough to warrant a gasp present in your words. “Don’t tease me.”

You were really in no position to be the one saying commands, but it was the sheer stubborn-confidence that impressed him enough to consider the choked out words. “As you wish.” He spoke, slipping two fingers past your panties, the material bunching to the side, and right into you without any warning. Well, to be fair he did give you a warning, just no time to process before you felt his long, slender fingers gliding against your walls.

“Fuck— Thomas.” You breathed out, your tone a little whiny. You were almost embarrassed at how easily you gave in, how easily you let him get you this way.

He gave your throat one last little squeeze and dropped his hand down to one of the straps on your tank top. He was considering sliding it under your shirt, but then he’d have to go through more trouble to get it off seeing as you were leaned against a tree. So, Thomas decided to take what he knew you’d give, and he tugged at the straps.

You knew your standards were low when consent made your heart swoon, feeling the nervous hot-and-cold sweats rack your body. But being the only girl in the glade, you were glad someone other than your friends was showing you respect…ish.

After seeing your nod, he slid the strap down and you pulled your arm back and through the thing fabric piece, the same was done on the other side. Thomas’s fingers were barely moving, too slow even for his teasing pace, but his brain had a little more focus on what he was trying to do with one hand.

A few seconds later, and you were gasping at the sudden coldness you felt against your pert nipples. It was an odd sensation, the glade was always hot yet when your bare chest was exposed, the air felt cool.

The chilled breeze caused the buds to instantly harden, making something of Thomas’s harden as well. “Shit, angel, no bra?”

You hadn’t worn a bra since today was one of those days— the ones with low energy, restless sleep barely giving you enough stamina to will yourself throughout the day. “No…” you admitted, almost shamefully.

Before you could even think, lips were wrapped around the sensitive buds, a tongue flat as it pressed over the top. You let out a noise somewhere between a whimper and a small moan, finger tangling in his hair automatically.

Thomas simply couldn’t leave your other side untreated, so he rolled your other nipple between his fingers while fucking you with the other hand. Every sound you made, whether it be a sigh, a moan, a whimper, a small whine of his name, each and every one of them seemed to be egging him on more. Like small pleas and begs for more of his touch.

And whether you knew it or not, that exactly what they were; your body whining, aching for anything he’d give you, grateful for the plainest stroke of his digits in your wet cunt, or the effortless drag of his smooth tongue across your pebbled nipple.

Somewhere between small praises and straight-up degradation, you manages you end up without any clothes and Thomas’s pretty face between your legs as you stand there against the tree; teeth clenched, thighs trembling, fingers scratching at his scalp leaving a stinging sensation in their wake. It felt good— the burn of your jagged nails against his already sensitive scalp, the sun un-ironically taking part in making sure it would hurt him.

The tree bark dug into your bare back as you simultaneously pushed yourself up on your tip-toes, squirming at the sensation of his tongue on your clit becoming too much, yet tugging his face further between your wobbly thighs with the grip you had on his brown hair.

Thomas decided he liked you best when you were like this; a sweaty, moaning, whimpering, indecisive mess for him— despite only speaking his first words to you less than an hour ago.

And quite frankly, you couldn’t care less. The only thing spurring you on, giving you the shamelessness needed to give yourself up like this was the undying need to cum. He had be fucking edging you this whole damn time, yet you couldn’t complain. Not while he was pleasuring you at least. Your protests came after you didn’t—after the way he’d suck on and swirl his tongue around your swollen bud, getting you right there, only to pull away as you were about to topple over the edge.

It might not have been verbal, but maybe you’d give his hair a particularly harsh yank, or dig your nails into his raw scalp with as much strength as you could muster. Unbeknownst to you, Thomas enjoyed it. He loved the way you whined and squirmed, body begging for a release even if your mouth was too stubborn to communicate it. He loved the pain you inflicted on him, the pricking sensation hurting so bad—yet not enough—that it felt good.

“Did I get you to change your mind yet, Angel?” Thomas spoke against your cunt, lips glistening with you juices, eyes dark as he looked up at you with a captivating stare that you fell prisoner to time and time again.

You bit down on your lip brutally, the discomfort not even phasing you anymore. You were sure your lips would be bruised and possibly bloodied in the morning for more than one reason. “Thomas… please,” There it was. The first real plead that spilled from your lips. Not the desperate whines or frustrated grunts you’d given him earlier, but an actual word that put your need on full display.

And it sounded better than he could’ve ever imagined.

“What’s wrong, princess? Am I not good enough for you?” He cooed, tone mocking your desire so damn condescendingly that if it were anyone else you’d send their skull flying against the maze walls.

But you couldn’t resist, he had you under his spell, wrapped around his finger. And you knew it. You both knew it. “Fuck me, make me cum… just do something for fucks sake!” Your voice held a guise of irritation and rage, but just behind that was the exact whininess that he was looking for.

“I think I like the sound of you begging for me. It’s pretty.” He whispered, whether to himself or you, you couldn’t find it in you to give a fuck anymore.

Thomas stood up, large hands sliding up the sides of your bare body, soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips. A whimper slipped from your swollen lips, the feeling of his hands setting your body ablaze, leaving goosebumps only the chilly day’s managed to give you in their wake. You felt like you were sweating buckets, yet the warmth radiating off his wide hands (or maybe you were just small) left the rest of your figure feeling frigid.

His lips wet lips met yours, hand meeting your throat as you gasped lightly at the taste of yourself on his tongue as he poked and prodded at your own. You didn’t even have to think about how easily you let him in, you blatantly followed his command no matter what form in came in without a second thought.

Fingers feeling needy, you reached for his belt and he slotted his knee between your thighs, pinning you against the tree for the umpteenth time tonight. However, you didn’t hear a protest or receive a firm look coded with a not-so-hidden message, so you proceeded with your actions, fingers fumbling with the flimsy metal piece until you hear the telltale clanking sound of his belt slithering through the denim loops and clashing against the dirt floor.

His jeans dropped next, nothing to hold them up or keep them in their place as you unzipped them. His shirt had been discarded earlier, just before he got to his knees in front of you, so it was one less article of clothing in your way.

But that didn’t matter, the only one you care about was still on him. Dainty fingers lightly brushed over his bulge, your eyes dropping for just a second to catch a glimpse of his clothed size before you had to tilt your head back up due to the hand holding your throat. It was dark, but your eyes were well adjusted by now; well enough to see the tent his erection formed as you unintentionally teased him.

Your hands were impatient, your whole being was impatient, but you could at least do something about the need to have your hands around him. After practically grabbing his hard-on through his boxers, palming it roughly for just a second, you didn’t even wait to get your hands inside his boxers. Immediately, you tugged your hand up his length, his impressively long length. He groaned, cock already throbbing, twitching at the thought of being buried inside you.

The noise almost took you by surprise, and you were almost proud of yourself for being the cause. You brought your left knee up his thigh, situating it comfortably in the groove of his hip, and pushed down the remaining fabric. His free hand assisted you and helped slide the other end down until he kicked away the item that he’d be searching for in the darkness later.

Digits finding his hardness again as you continued to make out, your thumb carelessly swiped over his slit as you handled his tip, collecting the bead of precum that had you wetter than the brook you were settled by during previous hours. He felt the heat of your fingers disappear, only to return moments later with arousal that couldn’t’ e been just his.

You coated his shaft with your sticky mixture, eliciting a deep groan from the back of Thomas’s throat. Regardless of you having the last few touches that made gave other pleasure, he still wanted to remind you who was really in control.

His fingers tightened around the column of your throat, his body pressing you into the tree even more, hard enough for you to feel each ridge of wood jabbing into your back. You felt his knee pushing up against your cunt, your slick automatically coating his thigh as you couldn’t help but grind yourself against him. He smirked—you didn’t see—, your actions appearing needy, so much so, that they were almost pathetic.

“It’s hot as fuck knowing I made you this wet, that I got you to the point where you don’t give a fuck about how pathetic you seem, the only thought in your brain is the desire for pleasure. For me to fuck you, huh?” His words were spat with hot breath waving against your cheek, it was hard not to give in and accept his words.

“Please, Tommy… need you inside me,” until the words came out, you weren’t aware of how shameless they’d be, of how much you sounded exactly like he described. “‘nd I know you do too.” you added shortly after in an attempt to recollect some of your dignity. Didn’t work. He saw right through you.

But what did work what the whine you put on his name, the one that few called him, but only you could have him contemplating between fucking you like a normal person, or fucking you for so long and hard that neither of you could walk straight or have any cum left to give. Obviously there was only one choice in his eyes, but you couldn’t see it. You could only see blown pupils, so wide that just a sliver of brown, lust-tainted color rimmed the pitch-black darkness.

You resumed the position you were in earlier; legs squeezed tight around his waist as if your life depended on it, ankles locked in the back, heels digging into his spine a few inches above his tailbone. Your arms wrapped around the nape of his neck, while his hand was settled at the base of yours.

Striving to be a tease, Thomas watched your reactions while he rubbed his tip up and down your wetness, starting from your hole, up to the top of your clit, then back down. Something about the moves, so calculated, so precious, so damn taunting that it almost seemed like he was mocking you, it was all becoming too much. He had been edging you all night—well, enough to to feel like it was all night—that you knew he was nearing the end of his limits as well.

Impatient by nature, Thomas merely gave your throat a warning squeeze before he slipped his tip inside. He may have been ruthless with his teasing, yes, but he wasn’t heartless. He waited, kept his hips still against his own will until you nodded or squeezed his hair each time you wanted him to push in just a smidge further. He praised and affirmed you with words you didn’t even process since the only thing your mind could focus on was the contrast of pleasure with a little bit of sting. You wanted nothing more for him to be fully sheathed inside you, fucking your stupid—and so did he—, but you decided it best for you to take it slow. At first.

Once his hips were flush with yours, hard cock filling you in ways you didn’t even know existed, you adjusted your legs around his waist, shifting until the discomfort went away mostly. You didn’t even nod or give and indignation before you bucked your hips against his, causing a sigh to fall from his pink, kiss-bitten lips, while a light moan fell from yours. He took that as his sign you were ready, and he slowly pulled his hips from yours with a semi-gentle test thrust first before he saw you were okay, then he picked up his pace in a matter of seconds.

“Fuck, angel, you’re so tight.” He groaned against your neck, hot breath symbolizing a warning before his lips were all over the soft skin.

You whimpered, your hands automatically lacing in his hair and tugging at the roots, nails occasionally scratching at his scalp. You don’t know how long your hand stayed like that before realizing you needed something better to grasp, to hold on and cling to like your fate was dependent on it.

One are tucked under his, the other following suit, and soon both hands were clawing down his back, the feeling prompting Thomas to pound away harder. Teeth against your neck let you know that you’d have to wear your hair down for the next few days, and possibly skip meals at the homestead to avoid being seen as well. Even so, you didn’t care right now. You were to wrapped up in the way his fucked into you, mercilessly pounding away at you pussy, the wet squelching sounds coming from where the two of you were connected absolutely sinful.

You knew the gladers had gone to sleep however long ago, but you also knew that a few had a hard time sleeping. Thank god Chuck had knocked out before you came out here.

The threat of getting caught is what caused you to bury your face in his shoulder, head leaning against his outstretched arm that was holding the tree for support. You nips and suck at the skin of his collarbone right where it connects to his shoulder, albeit much weaker and definitely less effort put in than him, but it gives you something to do, along with practically gouging your uneven nails down his sweaty back, to keep your mind off the seething moans that threaten to rip from your throat.

After awhile of hearing you go silent and feeling the pressure of both your lips and fingers on his skin increase, Thomas grows annoyed with your lack of sound. You feel his hand leave your throat, but you don’t exactly process it, your brain overwhelmed with too many things to worry about the loss of touch, but you do feel where it ends up. Your head is abruptly yanked back, yet somehow as gently as possible although is still leaves a pained sensation. Thomas’s fingers were in between the weaves of your—now very loose and incredibly messy—braid, forcing you to look at him as he fucks you. He seemed to know exactly what you were thinking.

“Don't muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I'm fucking you.” Without a barrier to block your noises, you let out a moan at his words alone. And then everything comes crashing down. You give up on trying to quiet yourself, only having enough left in you to chase that feeling that leaves you whining incoherent words that maybe he understands, digging and clawing at any available surface you can get you dainty little fingers on (which is most likely his back or shoulder), and letting yourself go completely—letting him take care of you.

And boy does he know how to take care of you. For someone you’ve never spoken a word to until tonight, he knows how to fuck you right. He knows how to have you in his arms, body practically limp and a deadweight which only impales you more on his dick. And when he hears that you’ve given in to more than just his one request by letting your jaw fall slack, any moans or whimpers just free to waltz out, he leans in close to whisper in your ear, voice deep and slightly raspy; “Good girl.”

He feels the way your fingernails grips his shoulders harder, possibly hard enough to draw blood, and the way your already-tight walls clench around him even more. Something in his mind clicks for him that doesn’t for you, probably because your too busy with the way he fills you up so damn well his tip kisses your cervix each time you come back down on him and he fucks back up.

“You like being called a good girl, huh? You like being told how good you feel around me, being praised for doing what I say like the good girl you are?” He knows what he’s doing at this point. But that was stop you from enjoying it nonetheless.

“F—yeah, fuck, I do.” You agree with what little sanity to have left, mustering a nod that almost spends every ounce of energy.

Your eyes have him in a trance; watery, pupils blown, looking up at him with the most innocent looking eyes he could ever think of. Except he knew you weren’t innocent.

“I bet no one else fucks you like this, huh, angel? No one else gives you princess treatment because they’re too busy trying to find a way to get in your panties to even think about treating you right. But a part of you likes it, don’t you?” You merely whined, words failing you as he smirked and kept going. “You like the fact that half the guys here probably jerk off to the thought of you when they’re alone, think of you as some little slut that everyone gets a turn with in their minds. The glade’s own whore, hmm?”

“F-Fuck, Thomas,” you whimper, the feeling his words give you turning into physical pleasure, not just for yourself, but for Thomas as well when he feels your warm walls squeezing around his shaft.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it; just whoring out and fucking every guy in this place? But your so damn innocent—too damn innocent, it’s why half the guys here can’t seem to get their mind off you.” He grunts between thrusts, as if his hips slamming into yours punctuates each word. “Don’t worry, after tonight I think enough people around here will have learned who got to fuck you. I’ll treat you right, princess.”

Both hands clenched at whatever they can, and Thomas feels the crescent-shaped nail marks already imbedding themselves in his shoulder and nose of his neck.

You were getting undeniably closer, and you were afraid that he might edge you again. Hell, you were afraid that you let him have that much power over you. In spite of your efforts, your own voice adding to the ringing in your ears as you bucked your hips downwards— if even possible with the force he had you pressed against the tree with. “Don’t stop… please, please don’t stop, Tommy.” You begged, pathetically desperate for him to finally let you release.

“Only if you keep making those pretty little sounds, angel.” And you did; effortlessly obeying his commands, when in reality it was inevitable that your sounds escaped at some point. You just didn’t hold back at all. At least you didn’t talk to very many people, otherwise they would’ve been suspicious of your barely-there voice if the hadn’t already heard you screaming the night before.

His thrusts became irregular, and at first you thought he was going to tell you that you didn’t do well enough for him, seize yet another orgasm from you like he had been doing all night. What you didn’t realize was that he was slowing down to edge himself, not wanting to cum to early or before you did.

Thomas decided you wouldn’t mind a few scratches on your back, maybe a few splinters, ‘cause it sure as hell looked like you wouldn’t give a damn right now, so he took his supporting hand off the tree and encased it around your throat, admiring the way his hand seemed to swallow you whole. His free hand fled to your clit, rubbing circles against the sensitive bud as you cried out his name. It was mindless, you hadn’t even realized it. That’s what made it so fucking hot.

Time and time again, you continued to impress him with how easily you could be controlled, completely fucked out to the point you only knew his name and the word ‘please’. “Atta girl. That’s right, let everyone know who’s fucking you like this.” You whimpered his name again, the word simply rolling off your tongue without a thought. He wasn’t even sure if you said it because you followed orders so well, or if it was really the only thing you could say.

“T-Thomas, shit—fuck, I’m g—” your sentence was left unfinished since you couldn’t breathe, your lungs on fire just like the rest of your skin. It could’ve been from the way Thomas’s hand was unconsciously restricting your airway a little too much, though, once he noticed he eased up. Either way, he got your message loud and clear. And he could feel his own release brewing in the pit of his stomach.

“Please… please don’t stop this time. I-I can’t take it anymore… need to cum.” You whined between shallow breaths before he could even speak.

His pace and force picked up to almost inhuman speeds, basically fucking you into the tree behind you. “I won’t, I promise.”

As if the words didn’t register, mindless pleas were pouring from you, “I have to—’m so close, Tommy, please.”

“I know, baby, I know. Me too, alright? So your gonna be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?” It wasn’t until his thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves he was previously circling, did his words finally sink in.

Along with his gentle demand came your orgasm that you didn’t know had been so close the whole time. Your walls enveloped him so tight he was sure his dick would slip out, but it didn’t. It stayed inside your warm, velvety wetness, twitching but thrusting sloppily throughout your high as his neared.

You were seeing stars, and you were pretty sure they weren’t the ones in the night sky above you. Your nails dug so harshly into his chest and back that your fingers aches, and you could only imagine the number you’d done on him. The feeling was euphoric, sure you’d never come down from the drunken-high feeling. Your thighs shook, muscles spasming as your nerves felt like they were frying at the slight overstimulation he was giving you.

Feeling you cum around him, his cock twitched inside you, soon giving into the demands of your velvety warmth and wet squelching sounds. “Fuck, shit—such a good girl, angel… such a good fucking girl for me.” He moaned out, his voice the softest it’d been yet, but still somehow possessing the same roughness as before.

You felt a hot-warmth gush inside you, your face already buried deep in his shoulder again as you physically could not keep your head up. “Just for you.” You whimpered, enjoying the feeling of being completely filled to the brim, his hand coming off your throat to slide around the back of your neck in a somewhat-comforting hold. The feeling of being taken care of.

[97keanu]

Premise: Part two of Vanquish: A Keanuverse Story. Reader chooses to be the slayer she was always meant to be. Helen has laid dormant in your soul for most of your life, awakening in the past few nights after coming in contact with her true love, John Wick again. Reader decides she must find out what it truly means to just be herself. With the help of some friends, any monster is possible to slay.

Tags: major character death(s). Vampire!John Wick, Slayer!Constantine, Witch!Neo, ???!Ted, supernatural AU, Slayer!Reader, soul connection, reincarnation, blood/violence.

A/N: In this choice, reader finds what she was looking for.

Go back.

"I am a Slayer, after all..." You say to Neo, and you feel the something that stirs with in you settle in such a way that you wonder if this is what she's always wanted.

"Are you sure? Once I begin the ritual, I can't undo it." You nod, and Neo sighs, grabbing the spare cigarette behind his ear and lighting it.

The end burns red and he breathes a long pull out.

"Alright, let's begin." He opens his spell book and starts.

You lay in the center of the summoning circle Neo has drawn in white chalk on his concrete floor. It's cold, dirt and grit touch you wherever your skin makes contact with the floor. Your head sits uncomfortably on the hardness of it, and you wish Neo would hurry up.

He's currently annoiting sigils he's drawn, then coming to you and sprinkling herbs and oils around you. You look up at him with wonder and urgency.

"How long is this going to take, Neo?" You whisper, already an hour into this mess and impatient.

"I'm seperating your soul connection to Helen, it's not a simple spell." He says with an eye roll.

You sigh and try to get comfortable, then Neo advises you to stop moving because you're rubbing around the chalk. You just hope this fixes things.

"Alright, were ready to begin." Neo says after another half hour, lighting the last candle that surrounds you.

"What do I need to do?" You ask, unsure of how much work you'll be doing.

"I need you to focus on staying yourself. Which parts of you are truly you, and which parts of Helen you're seperating from." Neo speaks as he looks over a small tome, from which he grabbed the spell from.

"Okay, but how do I know that?" You aren't trying to make this harder, but you also have lived your life as you are for so long. You have no idea how much of you is Helen manifested and how much is truly you.

"You'll have to look inward for that, I'm sorry I don't know an exact answer." He says, and you believe he is truly sorry you're in such a situation. He leans down and takes your hand tenderly.

"You're going to make it through this, one way or another." You nod at his words and you don't know why, but your eyes prickle, tears threatening to fall.

You can't imagine how it will feel to loose such a big part of yourself, it scares you to think who you might be after.

You nod once more, to let Neo know it's time to start, and he gives your hand one final squeeze. You really wish Constantine were here, but you know he wouldn't want you to do something so dangerous. Neo already told you the things that could go wrong if the spell isn't done correctly, and you know if Constantine knew you were planning on doing something that could make you a shell of yourself, he wouldn't allow it.

No, you have to do this alone. You're glad Neo is there to guide you as much as he can, and you suddenly realize how good it is to have such a friend.

He begins to speak, his words in a foreign tongue, and your eyes close. You can feel the energy begin to pulse, and any inklings of doubt you had about Neo being able to perform such a spell vanish. You know, this is it.

Neo takes a lock of your hair he cut earlier, and burns it, dropping it in a bowl filled with other herbs. It burns and the room begins to stink, but you can feel the power growing. You feel a weigh in your chest, and it builds, as if trying to escape your ribcage. You grit your teeth, and try to stay focused on becoming just yourself again. You still have no idea who that is, but you start to think of Constantine once more and the entity inside you pulls again.

You think about all the times you've tried to make something happen between you too, but no matter what something was stopping you. And you realize that Helen never stopped loving John, there was no way you were ever going to love someone else when she was inside you. You think of all the ways Constantine makes you feel, and you realize that those feelings of love for him, are your true feelings, the kind only you can make.

You think of when you two first met, and how nervous you were around him, but still giggling like a school girl despite yourself. You think of all the times you've leaned into him, and how the something that stops you was never happy about it. Constantine and you have always been an almost, a could be, a wish that hadn't come true yet.

You focus on that feeling of love you have for that grumpy asshole, and Neo's voice rises. He burns the photograph of Helen and you feel the power in your chest reel, lurching and trying to be set free. This is what she wants too.

You feel yourself spiralling downward, away from it, the connection between you and Helen growing thinner and thinner as you think more about the life you've lived, and all the friends you've made along the way. There's no way that any of that wasn't your true self. That nights spent with Ted on the couch, laughing until the sun comes up, was always you. That the teasing between you and Neo, so easy and light, was always you. That want between you and Constantine. Even now, it's you who desperately wants him here, holding your hand through this. It's what YOU truly want. No one else. Just you.

And as you dig deeper into that, you feel the pain of losing a part of your soul. You try not to cry out, but the muffled yell escapes your trembling lips. You feel as if a part of your heart is dying, getting ripped out and taken from you. But you know, deep down, Helen wouldn't want you to be with John anyways. He's lost his love, kindness, tenderness from being bitter over her death for all these years.

No, you must separate, you must set Helen's soul free.

"End the cycle..." you hear it. Her voice whispering in your head.

And your jaw sets, teeth biting into teeth, and you take the pain, your screams gutteral and whining, body beginning to writhe as Neo continues the spell, knowing he cannot stop in the middle of it.

You feel your soul being torn apart and all you can think about are the people you love, the people you stay on this earth for, and somehow, you make it through.

Sweat clings to your face and body, and as you open your eyes you see yourself, transparent and floating above you. But you know it's not really you. You watch and Helen seems more peaceful than ever, her soul fading into the abyss. The magic dwindles down and finally after Neo says the final closing words to the ritual, and it's over.

You lay there, exhausted, and Neo comes to your side, and you barely hear what he's saying to you. You feel more hollow, less full and terrified. You have a numbness in your chest, but you also feel as if you can finally breathe after not being able to on your own for so long.

"You did great, I didn't know what would happen, but you made it!" Neo speaks kind words to you, slowly helping you sit up and rubbing your back as you do.

Your stomach clenches as you finally sit. The world seems so different now that you're looking through your fresh pair of eyes, and you stay there, still as Neo dabs your sweaty face kindly with a cloth.

"This should be enough to get him to stop hunting you, now that he can't find Helen's soul within you..." You nod as Neo talks and finally stand up after a while.

Neo takes you out of the summoning circle, letting you lean into him when you need. You sit on the edge of his bed and he leaves for a moment, returning with a small glass of water.

"Here," he says, and you don't realize how dry your mouth is until you take your first sip, happy to be in Neo's care.

"What if he keeps coming..." You whisper out finally.

"Then we kill him." Neo looks at you, and you can see in his eyes that it's true, he really does believe you can defeat this one way or another.

The someone knocks on the door to Neo's apartment, bangs really, and Neo leaves your side to open it.

It's Constantine, he's sweaty and looks worried. He rushes to your side, taking your hand and holding it in his.

"I felt," he speaks, his mouth open to search for the right thing to say. "I knew something was wrong..."

His Slayer abilities are more honed than yours but you wonder if the connection between you two goes deeper than that.

"How...?" You say, but Constantine puts his forehead to yours, and you close your eyes, feeling something between you two.

It feels as if the block between you and him has faded into nothing but scarred tissue. The connection is starting to truly flow for the first time, and it buzzes through your body.

"It's like..." Constantine whispers out. "A sudden weight was lifted, and I could finally feel you..."

You wonder if Helen's soul had been blocking this connection between you two, but you don't know if you'll ever know. All you do know is that he's here for you, and that's what you've always wanted.

Constantine moves and wraps his arms around you tightly, his hug warm and deep.

"Don't you dare scare me like that again." He whispers into your neck, and you nod, tears welling up.

"It's over now, I think..." You whisper back, and Constantine holds you as if he is afraid of letting you go.

"I'll make sure it is..." Constantine mumbles, the anger in his voice clear. For a second you're not sure if you heard him right or not.

You don't want Constantine hunting the vampire down if John is truly no longer interested in you. You don't feel like arguing now though, you're way too tired for all of that. Instead, you let Constantine and Neo take you home, both helping to carry you back.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It's been a few days, but Constantine hasn't left your side. He doesn't say much, as usual, but with the newfound connection between you two, he doesn't need to.

You begin to feel a bit better, the time after the soul seperation made you so weak. It was truly as if you recovering from some illness or injury. You suppose you were though, having soul surgery was no little task, as Neo later said.

Neo as well was there to support you, not always, but he often went out and got the things you and Constantine needed. He would stop and assess how you were doing as well, looking over your aura and making sure you were healing properly.

Ted has been out the whole time, and as the days go on you wonder where he's at. It wasn't uncommon for him to spend a few days a month just at Bill's place, but usually you would have seen him by now...

Tonight, you and Constantine sit on the couch, enjoying one of your favorite movies while he reminds you to drink more water every 15 minutes. You humor him, and let Nurse Constantine prescribe anything he deems necessary. Through your connection, you can feel how worried he is, so you don't want to add to it at all.

You haven't had any nightmares since the soul severance as well. In fact, you've had no dreams at all, and that's just fine with you. You wouldn't care if you ever dreamed again if it meant all that was over.

You gaze out the window by your couch, the full moon casting her loving gaze on the city. You feel the wind stir outside and you wonder what's next for you. You consider how much more slaying you really want to do, but you also know the need is in your blood. It's what you're made for, trained for. You aren't sure if you could ever give it up, but you also love how domestic and calm things have been the past few days. You glance to Constantine and see him for once, almost relaxed next to you, his arm gently and warmly around your shoulder.

Neo knocks at the door, and you can tell because Constantine has been training you to recognize energies better. You get ready to lift yourself from the couch to get the door, but Constantine is already getting it, not wanting you to lift a finger until you're better.

"I'm fine! Really!" You call out to him, and he shakes his head.

"Neo said it takes at least a week until you're fully better, it's only been three days." He grumbles back to you and opens the door.

What neither of you sensed or expected was what was behind that door.

Neo was there, yes, but behind him, claws dug into Neo's throat, was the vampire. Constantine immediately growls and wants to charge him, but it's clear that John will rip out Neo's throat if he does.

"Drop him!" Constantine barks, and you feel as if this is a dream.

"No, you're not supposed to..." You whisper out, slowly rising from the couch, still in some pain.

"Did you really think I wouldn't come back for a taste of that sweet blood of yours?" The vampire hisses at you, ignoring Constantine completely.

"You really shouldn't have done that, my sweet." John cackles. "Now that you've severed yourself from my past love, there's nothing stopping me from draining you dry."

Your body chills at his words, but you have to do something or else he may just kill the people closest to you. You step forward once more and you watch as John holds out his free hand to you, beckoning you to come to him.

"No! I'm not letting you go with him!" Constantine growls out and holds up a protective arm in front of you, trying to stop you from going.

"I'm not going to let him hurt my friends." You say this and know how true this statement is in your soul. You would rather sacrifice yourself than allow Neo or Constantine die trying to save you.

"That's right, my pretty little slayer...I will let your friends go in exchange for you." The vampire confirms with a sickening grin, fangs showing.

As you get closer, the vampire slowly lessens his grip on Neo. John gets more distracted by you coming near, obviously hungry and anger clouding his mind. You can feel Constantine planning something, and you want to call out to him to stop, but before you can, he has rushed the vampire just as you come to meet John's hand.

John's claw grazes Neo's throat, blood slipping from the shallow wound, but he also looses his grip on him. Neo scrambles away, into the apartment, and Constantine rolls on the ground with the vampire in the hallway. You immediately search for anything to help, and spot Constantine's slayer gear near the door.

You grab two stakes and run into the hallway, watching as the vampire begins to over power Constantine. You're screaming and you don't even know for what, but you run, stakes in hand, ready to kill. Just as you're about the strike, John turns, seeing you and using his arm to throw you back, against the wall. You hit it, your head bouncing off with a thud, and your visual blackens.

You see the fuzzy images of the vampire on top of Constantine, his claw coming down in a long gash against his chest. Neo is in the doorway, holding his neck and fumbling with something to try to help, but he was never made to be killing creatures like this. You see the fear in your friends eye, and hear the screams of your love as the vampire descends into the killing blow.

You struggle to attempt to get up, your head pounding, body still weak and recovering, when you hear it. A pounding down the hall. The sound of some great beasts coming your direction. You stare up in shock and awe as two furry creatures jump over you, straight for the vampire. You watch as what looks like giant wolves grip the vampire's arms in their teeth, dragging him off of Constantine. They snarl and growl, and you find yourself on your feet again, gripping the stake you could hold onto and walking towards the vampire.

All that rage, all that fury, it builds inside of you. You feel it moving off you in hot waves, especially as you see Constantine, halfway torn, and you don't know when you start screaming, but you do.

You move faster, the pain moved aside for anger and adrenaline. You watch as the wolves are practically playing tug of war with the vampire, but you know even ripped to shreds that's not how you kill him. The wolves seem to sense your plan and hold the writhing, spitting creature as you do what you should have done that first night.

You watch as the vampire looks you dead in your eyes, that redness showing only evil and hatred, and you raise the stake.

"I'm not letting you get another chance to kill my friends." You say plainly, and the vampire laughs, which only pisses you off more.

You don't wait for him to say some stupid line, his mouth opening to attempt something along those lines. No, you've heard enough.

You drive the stake down, through his heart, and he screams out, shaking and sputtering. The wolves drop his arms from their mouths and the vampire bursts into flames, thrashing until he's burned out into a pile of ash.

You stand there, the carnage before you, the mess of your apartment hall, and you feel your knees weaken. You know you're not done yet, you turn to Constantine, and see Neo is already at his side, dripping some sort of liquid from a vial into his wounds, and speaking a spell.

You rush to his side, falling next to him and holding his hand.

"I'm so sorry..." Is all you can say, tears streaming down your face.

You watch as Constantine tries to keep breathing, in and out, the pain obviously immense. His wounds begin to glow as Neo continues and you lean forward, kissing Constantine's forehead and murmuring words of encouragement to get through this. You can sense how much it helps, and you continue.

"I'm not going to let you die on me now, not after everything." You say to him, your hand gripping his, your tears falling on his face where yours is so close.

"You wish, Princess." He finally sputters out, and with that signature sarcasm of his, you know he'll be alright.

The spell finishes, and Constantine's wounds are closed, blood and rips in his shirt still evident.

"He'll live, but it looks like both of you will need to take it easy for a while." Neo says, and you see he's also healed his own neck where he was knicked.

You reach over Constantine's body and pull Neo into a deep hug.

"Where would we be with out you..." You give him a long squeeze and he laughs.

"Dead. Probably." He says with a wheeze from how hard you've hugged him. You let him go, and smile, happy that you have the type of support you do here.

Just as you're starting to help Constantine sit up, carefully, you see two people walking up to your little scene.

"That was like, so totally awesome, dude!" You hear that familiar voice and look up in surprise.

It's Ted! And he's stark naked next to an equally as naked Bill, neither really finding it important to cover up.

"What! You didn't tell me..." You start, confusion and awe sweeping away your words.

"That we were like, kinda cool and rad werewolves?" Bill answers with a chuckle and Ted high fives him.

"Yeah, we didn't think you needed more supe's in your roster, babe!" Ted replies with his signature goofy grin.

They both lean down and help you and Neo carefully move Constantine inside, setting him carefully on the couch. You all manage, despite a few groans and coughs from Constantine along the way.

You stay by his side while Bill and Ted leave to get dressed, and Neo says he's running to the bathroom to clean the blood from his neck. You look down at Constantine who looks up at you through tired eyes.

"Guess it's you who needed the saving this time," you say, teasing him just a little despite the small tears that still fall gently down your cheeks.

"Guess I did..." He says and his arm reaches up, softly cradling the back of your head and pulling you in.

Your breath is stolen as he kisses you for the first time, tasting of blood and sweat. You don't even care, you kiss him back, hard. You've been waiting for this for so long now, and you're not going to let it go. You move your lips against his with so much want, and he returns the feeling fully, the connection between you two pulsing with love. You know now that you two can make it through anything, and you have never felt more capable, in love, or safe by those around you.

You know that despite everything, you truly are a slayer, and with those you love by your side, you need not worry about the future.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Taglist: @emacarrigton @sunnythebunny7 @worldsgreatestsinner @discoscoob @nwheregirl @slutforsoldierboy @sughcashsaiki @sebastianstanisahotmf @iovesia @brooxie3 @generalkenobee

Be added to future updates here!

Ask to be taken off at anytime via message!

[trashland-llamas]

Howdy

synopsis; 3 separate meet-cutes involving fem! reader + soap, ghost, & gaz

they/them pronouns used for reader; fem reader

f/a/d-favorite alcoholic drink; can switch it out for soda or water if you don't drink

Before He Cheats - Soap

Catches y/n in the act of slashing their ex's tires after finding out their partner was cheating on them with one of the other regulars

'You do realize insurance will most likely cover that if you slash all of 'em right?' Unable to hide his amusement at the 'deer-in-the-headlight' stare they gave him. 'Stop while I'm ahead, got it.'

'Not that it's any of my business but what's the story behind all this?' This being the smashed headlight, and carved leather seats. Smart enough not to sign their work. A discarded Louisville slugger.

'My boyfriend always told me he was watching the game with his buddies, turns out he's been seeing someone on the side.' Noting the shock in their voice, surprised at their ex's audacity. Accent more prominent.

'He's one stupid man, losing someone like you. Name's Soap, in case we meet again.' He didn't know when his next deployment would be, but he hoped the fates would make them cross paths again before then.

'Y/n, if I don't end up in prison first.' Not caring enough at the moment to ask what kind of name is Soap. Especially when the person looked so ruggedly handsome. Y/n started picking up all their stuff, finding a phone number scrawled on the bat.

'Call me when you get a chance jailbird.'

Die A Happy Man - Ghost

Price had tried setting Ghost up on a blind date, being a regular at y/n's shop, he had overheard them moping about how single they were. With their permission, he gave Ghost their number. 'Simon, you deserve love as much as the rest of us. Plus if it weren't for Gaz and Soap, you'd be a literal caveman. Think about it, okay?'

Ghost randomly texts them one night when he gets back from a mission, just wanting someone to talk to. 'Price gave me this number.' is his blunt opening line. 'And who am I speaking to?' Glad he had type it in correctly. 'Simon.'

It's only until a week later of semi-consistent back and forth messages that Simon asks them out. 'I'll pick you up at 7pm, wear something nice.' Breathing out a laugh at their response. 'At least send me a photo so I know who to look for.'

'Charming.' He sent a masked selfie, holding up his driver's license.

Ghost forgets out to breath when y/n's walking out the door to meet him, a red dress hugging all their curves. 'You're gonna catch flies, Simon.' Hearing how his name rolls off y/n's tongue doesn't help.

'You don't look too bad yourself.' y/n compliments Ghost as they buckle up. A navy blue button up with some black jeans. A chain holding dog tags showing from the few buttons left undone at the top.

Simon ends up having a panic attack on their second date when y/n shows up in a little black dress. It turns into a funny story as y/n was scared shitless, not knowing what to do.

Party in the USA - Gaz

'Oh my god, I'm so sorry!' Gaz had barely budged from the force. He appreciated the apology despite how little he cared for the shirt. Opening his shirt to reveal a v-neck shirt underneath. 'No fuss. Can I buy you a replacement drink?'

Nodding, they told him that is was a f/a/d. Buying a shot for himself, he looked y/n up and down. 'I'm guessing you didn't get the memo?' His tone lighthearted, a teasing quality to it. Gaz was referring to how out of place they looked, no name brands in sight. It was rather refreshing if he was honest. 'What gave it away?' 

'Oh, I don't know, maybe the boots. Or the country bumpkin vibes plus the attractive accent.' His response making y/n wonder if it was the liquid courage or if he was always this lofty. 'You think my accent's hot?' Hook, line, and sinker. 'Oh, I think it's divine. Name's Kyle.' Y/n being the forward one now, invited Gaz to the dance floor.

Laughing when Britney Spear's 'If U Seek Amy' played over the speakers, them poorly singing along. Off in their own world that Gaz was the only one privy to see. Unsure if he could call their movements dancing. Not that he was any better as he was glad to have a partner.

Scoring some point in the gentleman category, Gaz offered to drive y/n home, when they were hit with butterflies in their stomach. Grabbing his phone, Gaz watched as they type in their phone number. 'So you can text me that you got home okay.' Unable to deny how his heart softened. 'Awfully kind of you, but I will.' Trying his best to reassure them, not wanting to instill any worry.

'Home safe and in one piece.' Finally seeing their name, whispers to himself, 'y/n, a pretty name for a pretty gal.'

Refuses to call them anything other than 'country bumpkin,' to the point even his colleagues know them as that. 

[daddyy333]

Hickeys | Eddie Munson x y/n

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

word count: 0.8k

warnings: I guess technically implies sex, hickeys, ?

“Shit! Shitshitshit- babe I’m gonna be late! We didn’t set the alarms!” You said and jumped out of bed, nearly falling flat on your face whilst you tried to put your work uniform on. Your boss was pretty strict about the uniform and being on time and all those things and you had yet to fuck up in the year or so you’d been working there but you would forever be scared as long as you worked there.

“Baby, baby relax. It’ll be alright, just try to be a little more calm and put your pants on correctly” he said, grabbing your shorts and hold them correctly. You rolled your eyes and snatched them from him, finally hoisting them over your hips and running to the bathroom, eyes widening at what you saw.

You groaned and said “god damn it you asshole!” You had 2 hickeys on your neck and one on your collarbone and then 3 on your boobs. Eddie came in and smiled, admiring his work. “I mean, you’re just so beautiful I-”

You threw a roll of toilet paper at him and he yelped slightly, running just in time so he didn’t get hit. You shook your head and worked fast to cover them up, not even bothering to eat breakfast and bringing your hair stuff in the car to do at work.

You got to work at 7:26. You’re supposed to clock in at 7:30. Usually you’re here at least 15 minutes before your shift and you take a little nap in the car but you’d rather be way too early than late. You did your hair as fast you ever will, just brushing it back into a low ponytail and then spraying some hairspray and calling it good.

You rushed to the door at 7:33 and unlocked it, quickly running to the back to wipe everything down and sweep the floors and start making things. “Hey, assholes!” You said to Robin and Steve who walked in half an hour late.

They gave you awkward smiles and you threw aprons at them. They worked at the diner with you as well, so you would always punch them in even when they were late. “I hate you guys! God, what would you even do without me?” You said and they both ran over and hugged you.

“Best coworker everrrr!” Robin said and groaned, shrugging them off. You sighed and said “go wash the dishes. And you, brew some coffee and start on some pies” “no problemo” Steve said and you rolled your eyes.

You shook your head and said “can you guys please come on time tomorrow?” “Okay fine” Steve said and you sighed. You bent over to grab some menus and other things to set up a little and Robin gasped.

Your shorts had ridden up a little, revealing a dark ass hickey on your lower ass cheek. “What? Shit, am I on my period?” You asked and Robin chuckled. Steve looked over and his eyes widened. “Holy shit,”

“Hey! Stop looking at her ass!” Robin said and you gasped. You stood up fast and said “what’s wrong with my ass?” “Dude, you have a huge and dark ass hickey on your ass” Robin said and you groaned.

“Cause my stupid ass boyfriend doesn’t listen!” You said, rushing to the bathroom. You barely had time to cover it before a customer walked in and you were terrified there were more you hadn’t found yet.

Eddie always came on his lunch break since he now owned his mechanic shop and so generously gives himself hour long lunch breaks. Of course, he knows it’s unfair to only give employees 30 minute lunch breaks so he doesn’t really mind when they’re late, only when they’re over 45 minutes late does he get upset.

“Hey, cutie. How long you been working here, I don’t think I’ve seen you before” he said, he always flirted like you haven’t been together for years. You sighed and said “I have hickeys in places that I need to not have hickeys in, Eddie. I told you nothing permanent or harsh, and now I have at least 7 hickeys that I know of”

“Hey, you did your fair share of work too, princess,” he said, pulling his collar down to reveal a few hickeys, but at least his were small and light and would probably be gone in a day or two. Yours would surely last a week, probably longer.

You sighed and said “can we please agree no more hickeys unless they’re in easily hideable places” “fine. Just stop being so sexy though” he said and you chuckled. You finally walked over and kissed him, setting down the burger, fries and milkshake you already had made for him.

“You’re so lucky I love you” you said and he smiled. He blushed a little and said “yea, I know. It’s what keeps me going everyday, baby” You blushed as well and kissed his head, leaving to seat the customers that just walked in.

He smiled, watching you and admiring you. He noticed one peaking through your shirt on the back of your neck and winced. He sighed and whispered “that makes 8” and chuckled to himself. Boy, you were gonna kill him.

Taglist: @readsalot73

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Joseph Quinn

Jamie Bower

Steve Harrington

Robin Buckley

Eddissy

Maya Hawke

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Lo’ak

Neteyam

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

[causenessus]

HI HI HI HI NESS IM BACKKFJFKSMSOS so first of all tumblr hates me why is that the FOURTH ask of mine u answered that i wasnt notified of should i just die

anyways im eating lunch rn

healthy girl era did not work out i took a 6 hour (?) nap yesterday so!!

trying again today

N E WAYS

today the teacher told us her old students were too non che lent (nonchalant!!) so they failed the exam (wat.)

and my friend wanted to laugh about it w me but i wasnt looking so she yeeted my OTHER friends eraser at me

but it

it hit (near?) the teacher..

she was sooo mad omfg

giggling i hate her

like basically i answer all her questions out of spite now like YEAH BRO I KNOW THIS ALR😕😕

Also i swear i dif this math problem right but the teacher said it was wrong (wat.) and my friend did it too and we got the same answer (wat.)

i wrote fanfiction at school ☝️😎 it has already been digitalised but like i DID write it

and tjen my friend read an original short story (? 1.2k words) i wrote which was basically me projecting and she almost cried so like Uh

slay???

dude i love talking so much u have no idea actually

ALSO THE THING ABOUT THE ENRGY LIKe I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY OMG SO I GET EXCITED YK

n e ways..

i was watching american psycho last night but i got distracted..😭 ALSO IM SO EXCITED ABT ONICS LIKE EUSHEPSHAPSJXOSKAJDKAAKKDKD

>tries 2 normal

>fails

OK SO!! HRU AND WHATS GOING ON IN UR LIFE AND IF U EVER NEED TO HIRE A HITMAN IM HERE FOR U ❤️‍🩹 as the hitman btw ❤️‍🩹

U SHOULD NOT DIE!!! TUMBLR SHOULD DIE HOW DARE THEY!!! i am so confused at like what is happening at tumblr hq 😭😭 like there are problems that need to be solved!!!! and i feel like they should be pretty simple to fix!!! but instead they're like "NO LET'S MAKE TAGGING USERS GO BLUE AND COMMENTS UGLY"

but anyway!! i hope your lunch was good!! AND A SIX HOUR NAP SOUNDS AMAZING AND JUST AS PRODUCTIVE AS WORKING OUT!! it's hard to balance everything so definitely don't stress too much about it!! you have your whole life ahead of you to like do something like working out so not doing it one day is totally okay!! (yk?? i hope that made sense and i'm sorry i hope it's okay to say that 😭)

??? nonchalant -> failing exam???? i do not see the correlation??? 😭 YOUR TEACHER IS VV SPECIAL!! IS THIS THE ONE THAT TEACHES ENGLISH BUT ISN'T....ACTUALLY....THAT GREAT....AT ENGLISH??? 😭 OR MAYBE IT'S UR MATH TEACHER BC U ALSO SAID SOMETHING ABOUT THAT BUT THE ERASER ALMOST HITTING YOUR TEACHER IS CRAZY I WOULD'VE DIED ON THE SPOT 😭😭

also math teachers love to like??? tell u ur wrong and then not explain how to correctly do something??? so i think u should just blame them for everything!! that sounds fair <3

I'VE ALSO WRITTEN FANFICTION AT SCHOOL LMAOOO i remember being on my computer during french class and my guy was just so boring i pulled out the doc and started writing but LUCKILY it was like an oc fic so it wasn't as scary to write as a x reader UNLIKE WHEN I WAS MAKING TONIC PFPS AND MY DOCUMENT WAS LITERALLY CALLED LIKE yn & atsumu and for some reason all of my friends wanted to COME UP FROM BEHIND ME AND HUG ME!! OR LOOK AT MY SCREEN!! and i was just 😃😃😃 but i have no shame so oh well

THE ORIGINAL SHORT STORY SOUNDS GOOD!! ESP IF IT ALMOST MADE YOUR FRIEND CRY?? 😭 I HOPE YOU'RE DOING ALRIGHT THOUGH <3 AND I LOVE HEARING YOU TALK!! PLEASE TALK AS MUCH AS YOU WANT I WILL READ EVERYTHING YOU TELL ME <33

I'M SO SO GLAD YOU'RE EXCITED FOR TONICS!! I AM TOO <333 I'M SLOWLY PLANNING IT OUT LIKE ONE CHAPTER AT A TIME AND I'M LITERALLY SHAKING WITH EXCITEMENT OMG OMG OMG <33

THANK U LINA!!! I WOULD LOVE FOR U TO BE MY HITMAN <33 I MAY NEED ONE JUST TO GET THRU SCHOOL BC MY HALLS FR ARE SCARY SOMETIMES YK?? like too many scary girls who look me up and down in their little crop tops and shorts and nike air forces and are like "why are u wearing pants in the summer" BC I CAN?? AND I DON'T LIKE SHOWING THAT MUCH SKIN THANK U?? (sorry this probably makes no sense i think my brain has short circuited today </33) BUT I'M DOING ALR!!! i'm stressed about my theatre duties starting up very very soon 😭😭 but i'll let u know how that goes once they start!!! I HOPE YOU'RE DOING WELL TODAY!!! AND EAT SOMETHING GOOD <33

[hellaciousfaith]

Role Play Rules || Mobile

The Basics

No godmodding. This means you’re not allowed to dictate how my characters react/respond to anything, your characters cannot know everything/all the secrets about my characters without a good reason (such as being told this information by my characters, another character who knows, getting my permission in OOC chat), assume a major development between my characters and yours, or have your character successfully nail every attack they make against mine and-or dodging/blocking every attack my characters make against yours.

Any starter memes found under the “prompts” tag are always open for acceptance, no matter how old they may be. If it’s been more than 24 hours since their initial posting though please send them with a reminder about what meme they’re attached to so I can refresh myself on the context of the meme and its potential settings.

Communicate with me if there are any issues or confusions about something. I am sincerely open to talking things out, despite how socially withdrawn I am.

Muses =/= Mun; The character thoughts/opinions are not the writer’s thoughts/opinions.

Be patient for replies. This is not a primary muse for me, I run a couple of other RP blogs, work a full time job, and have other hobbies as well as responsibilities to attend to. Some replies may be thrown into the queue system to grant myself time and space to do those other things. If you are curious about the status of a reply you are welcome to ask about it after 48 hours since the last posting.

Shiro and the mun are above the age of consent. Mun details can be found in the pending Munday tag (this blog isn't old enough for that yet).

The Finer Points

Fights, Darker Themes, and Plotting

If we haven’t plotted for our muses to engage in combat or any sort of abusive scenario then please ask if it’s alright to shift gears towards that kind of scene first. I am open to writing any kind of violent scene but generally terrible at writing action, and very picky about what abusive themes I’ll engage with, so please don’t surprise me with either of the two.

Potentially violent scenarios don’t have to be a fully detailed disclosure either. It could be as simple as, “X wants to punch Y” and if I’m okay with it I’ll say “Palpatine voice: Dew it.” Then, we can begin discussing/plotting how the fight will go.

Truthfully speaking as well, I have very little combat writing experience so please have patience with my reply timing and be aware that I’ll most likely ask a lot of questions to make sure I’m understanding things correctly. I’m pretty much a newbie when it comes to this theme and I have trouble picturing written action, which makes it difficult for me to understand what’s going on.

If you do not have the patience for this though that’s okay too. We can handwave the scene to an agreed ending and move on our with our lives, no problem.

Certain forms of abuse and toxic personality traits are a major turn off for my muse, due to personal reasons that can be loosely boiled down to PTSD. So if I say no to something - whether it’s a plot or an entire muse - please respect that boundary. I will not write themes with:

Domestic abuse

Parental abuse

Emotional abuse

If you have any questions about what is or isn’t okay with me, feel free to ask! I take no offense to/I am okay with being asked for details because there is no harm in discussing limits. This is just a general guideline to help you understand what I’m not okay with

Don’t spring plots on me without discussing them beforehand. I’m not against plots happening, I just don’t like being surprised.

There will be elements of slap stick humor on this blog because Shiro can be rough in how he handles his friends and family. Arguably, it's less handling and more manhandling. This may come off harshly if it's taken literal and at face value. It is not meant to be. So, please don't.

Text Patterns

“This is speech - AKA the things said aloud and audible to others in hearing range. Things said over/through a communication device will be written like this too.”

This is flavor text to go around the speech.

Full sentences in italics are typically going to be thoughts. Words that are italicized in the middle of an unformatted sentence are for emphasis, like bolding.

[::This is a text message, typically used in any device-to-device conversations.]

((This is out-of-character text on a post, in a reply, or in tags. That isn’t to say tags not written like this should be considered IC, but they are most definitely OOC when written like this))

Selective; Mutuals Only

I’m going to be selective about who I follow for dash organization and cleanliness, as well as muse focus. It’s nothing personal against anyone or any blogging behaviors, I’m just very worn out from my job, want to be able to keep up with my partners’ activities, want to be able to focus on my muse with ease, and overall enjoy what I’m doing.

Anyone is welcome to send asks, send in memes, or makes comments if they feel inclined to do so. Starters and drabble prompts will only be accepted by mutuals. Threads will only be written with mutuals.

Duplicate & Multiverse Friendly

I’ll play with any character - canon or OC - and I’m not exclusive with anyone either, so I’m more than happy to play with multiple versions of the same character.

I’ll play with any character regardless of where their base continuity is or if they’re something completely original. Shiro is fixed in a Blue Exorcist type world, but time fuckery can allow him to interact with other worlds/settings.

Shiro comes from an AU timeline of my own making, and is thus exclusive to his own self. Meaning anybody he encounters is a different version of the individual he knows personally, and visa versa. Alternate individuals may be recognizable and follow similar dynamics, but no one is the individual he knows personally without some prior OOC discussions.

The Basics

No godmodding. This means you’re not allowed to dictate how my characters react/respond to anything, your characters cannot know everything/all the secrets about my characters without a good reason (such as being told this information by my characters, another character who knows, getting my permission in OOC chat), assume a major development between my characters and yours, or have your character successfully nail every attack they make against mine and-or dodging/blocking every attack my characters make against yours.

Any memes found under the “prompts” tag are always open for acceptance, no matter how old they are. If it’s been more than 24 hours since their initial posting though please send them with a reminder about what meme they’re attached to so I can refresh myself on the context/potential settings.

You are more than welcome to specify for a canon timeline with prompts too. Anything sent in without a requested setting will default to the main/current timeline.

Communicate with me if there are any issues or confusions about something. I am sincerely open to talking things out, despite how socially withdrawn I am.

Muses =/= Mun; The character thoughts/opinions are not the writer’s thoughts/opinions.

Be patient for replies. This is not a primary muse for me, I run a couple of other RP blogs, work a full time job, and have other hobbies as well as responsibilities to attend to. Some replies may be thrown into the queue system to grant myself time and space to do those other things. If you are curious about the status of a reply you are welcome to ask about it after 48 hours since the last posting.

Shiro and the mun are above the age of consent. Mun details can be found here.

The Finer Points

Fights, Darker Themes, and Plotting

If we haven’t plotted for our muses to engage in combat or any sort of abusive scenario then please ask if it’s alright to shift gears towards that kind of scene first. I am open to writing any kind of violent scene but generally terrible at writing action, and very picky about what abusive themes I’ll engage with, so please don’t surprise me with either of the two.

Potentially violent scenarios don’t have to be a fully detailed disclosure either. It could be as simple as, “X wants to punch Y” and if I’m okay with it I’ll say “Palpatine voice: Dew it.” Then, we can begin discussing/plotting how the fight will go.

Truthfully speaking as well, I have very little combat writing experience so please have patience with my reply timing and be aware that I’ll most likely ask a lot of questions to make sure I’m understanding things correctly. I’m pretty much a newbie when it comes to this theme and I have trouble picturing written action, which makes it difficult for me to understand what’s going on.

If you do not have the patience for this though that’s okay too. We can handwave the scene to an agreed ending and move on our with our lives, no problem.

Certain forms of abuse and toxic personality traits are a major turn off for my muse, due to personal reasons that can be loosely boiled down to PTSD. So if I say no to something - whether it’s a plot or an entire muse - please respect that boundary. I will not write themes with:

Domestic abuse

Parental abuse

Emotional abuse

If you have any questions about what is or isn’t okay with me, feel free to ask! I take no offense to/I am okay with being asked for details because there is no harm in discussing limits. This is just a general guideline to help you understand what I’m not okay with

Don’t spring plots on me without discussing them beforehand. I’m not against plots happening, I just don’t like being surprised.

There will be elements of slap stick humor on this blog because Shiro can be rough in how he handles his friends and family. Arguably, it’s less handling and more manhandling. This may come off harshly if it’s taken literal and at face value. It is not meant to be. So, please don’t.

Text Patterns

“This is speech - AKA the things said aloud and audible to others in hearing range. Things said over/through a communication device will be written like this too.”

This is flavor text to go around the speech.

Full sentences in italics are typically going to be thoughts. Words that are italicized in the middle of an unformatted sentence are for emphasis, like bolding.

[::This is a text message, typically used in any device-to-device conversations.]

((This is out-of-character text on a post, in a reply, or in tags. That isn’t to say tags not written like this should be considered IC, but they are most definitely OOC when written like this))

Selective; Mutuals Only

I’m going to be selective about who I follow for dash organization and cleanliness, as well as muse focus. It’s nothing personal against anyone or any blogging behaviors, I’m just very worn out from my job, want to be able to keep up with my partners’ activities, want to be able to focus on my muse with ease, and overall enjoy what I’m doing.

Anyone is welcome to send asks, send in memes, or makes comments if they feel inclined to do so. Starters and drabble prompts will only be accepted by mutuals. Threads will only be written with mutuals.

Duplicate & Multiverse Friendly, Multiship

I’ll play with any character - canon or OC - and I’m not exclusive with anyone either, so I’m more than happy to play with multiple versions of the same character.

I’ll play with any character regardless of where their base continuity is or if they’re something completely original. Shiro is fixed in a Blue Exorcist type world, but time fuckery can allow him to interact with other worlds/settings.

Shiro comes from an AU timeline of my own making, and is thus exclusive to his own self. Meaning anybody he encounters is a different version of the individual he knows personally, and visa versa. Alternate individuals may be recognizable and follow similar dynamics, but no one is the individual he knows personally without some prior OOC discussions.

I am a multishipper - meaning I can, may, and will write my character in multiple romantic relationships with the understanding that none of them are crossing over with each other. So, there is no cheating going on and no jealousy occurring unless otherwise stated by me. I will not participate in these kinds of plots without some kind of prior discussion with all the involved parties. Please refrain from trying to start trouble - ICly or OOCly - about these things unless I or my muse have stated something beforehand.

M!A Spells & Anonymous Interaction

I will accept all magic anons (M!As) but I retain the right to turn down/delete ones that do not strike my interest or make me feel uncomfortable. If the latter happens, I will do my best to elaborate on what exactly made me uncomfortable so it can be avoided in the future.

General messages will be answered normally and treated like messages on the datanet. Anonymous messages that suggest, imply, or depict physical interaction with a muse will be treated like an NPC.

M!A Spells & Anonymous Interaction

I will accept all magic anons (M!As) but I retain the right to turn down/delete ones that do not strike my interest or make me feel uncomfortable. If the latter happens, I will do my best to elaborate on what exactly made me uncomfortable so it can be avoided in the future.

General messages will be answered normally and treated like messages on the datanet. Anonymous messages that suggest, imply, or depict physical interaction with a muse will be treated like an NPC.

[archivalofsins]

I'm rarely in the tag- So, Star or others basically tell me how it's going in there and like-

All of ya'll sound like you're struggling. What Star told me sounds so stupid. Like this is the weirdest back and forth about nothing I've ever heard. It's impressive how committed everyone seems to be to making the same mistakes. It'd be really nice if more understood Amane's trial happens so late in the game that there's literally no way to change the outcome that's been locked in. Something even made fun of in her voice drama. So, voting based on how one wishes the story will go isn't going to change how it's going.

This is Milgram, after all.

Beyond that, just because someone gives another person their input doesn't mean that person has to take it as we've seen several ways before this with numerous other prisoners. It's ultimately sad because this behavior only sends one message that the abuse and neglect of children is excusable, but how the victims react to that isn't. I don't go into the tag because I've personally seen people literally devolve into doing abuser apologia (going maybe her mom was having a hard time too because of religion and the father being away have you thought of that) and I'm not putting myself through that.

I don't know if people think it's comedic or more humane to make light of the suffering someone was put through by pondering the emotional state of their victimizer or the troubles they could have been going through. But- like I'm too old and too used to hearing this shit to care about this talking point. This may come off as me being stubborn to some, and I can see how others would conclude that. However, sadly, my experiences have taught me that regardless of how bad things get attacking others weaker than you to let out ones frustration is not okay. Just because the person who shot someone is crying doesn't negate the fact they shot someone.

At the same time, it's my personal opinion that if someone does some shit they should be prepared to have that happen to them. One-sidedly hurting others with no consequence to oneself is not okay and never justified in my opinion regardless of if the person doing it is someone's parent/guardian. I don't know; that may be a pretty simple way of thinking, but I feel it's better than going, "Oh, did you ever think her mom was having a hard time, too?"

Because yes, I've thought that of course I've thought that. I grew up in an abusive household, and that is the first thing abusive moms say when they are abusing their children. So, I am incredibly aware of how this fucking works and the statements I've seen on this particularly issue can be retraumatizing to people whom have had these lived experiences.

At times, the things I have been unlucky enough to see and the way they've been discussed have been that to me. So, i can only imagine how people who are younger than me who have gone through these sorts of things or are still going through them feel. This is why even if the discussion around this does not change, it is important to tag this stuff correctly from the start and especially when asked to.

People shouldn't have to reveal personal details about themselves, for this topic to be discussed in a safe and respectful manner. People shouldn't have to be reminded that childhood abuse victims aren't this mythical storytelling device to actually talk about these things with some level of consideration. It's not what people enjoy hearing but individuals who have had the fortune of having parents/guardians or people throughout their lives that don't behave in this manner don't really have the right to tell people who have how they should feel about abuse/abusers.

Simply because it is such a difficult thing for people who have not had it happen to them to wrap their head around. So, they do end up trying to find common ground or an emotional reason that the abuser would act that way towards the person who was abused. However, I can promise anyone reading this that any excuse one can think of has already been used by an abuser and said to the person abused. So, saying stuff like this can easily reinforce that the abuse was justified and the victim deserved it even if that is not the intent of looking into it from that point of view.

This is why most media that discuss abuse try their very best to illustrate how senseless and wrong it is. Something Milgram does. Amane's mom does all this because Amane helped a cat; that's it. Discussing the environmental factors that lead to her mother doing this is giving more benefit of the doubt to her than is being applied to the actual person we're meant to be judging, which is wild. It's difficult for me not to take it as anything other than abuser apologia because no one had to take it there. Literally no one and it shows a flawed understanding of abuse and how it occurs on a societal level.

I am begging read a book, look up information on this topic, and tag posts involving discussing this trial properly. That's all.

[bonesandthebees]

Okay I’m starting at the catacombs because I love that Wilbur willingly walked in there to find Phil while knowing what was on the other side. What I love even more is that Phil can pick up on someone else being there so fast (I wonder if Kristin told him he had company). And the cherry on top is the fact that Phil gets taken out by it being Wilbur rather than one of the Deathlings. Maybe he’s surprised because he didn’t expect Wilbur to come talk to him. Or maybe it’s the fact that Wilbur walked into the catacombs by himself.

Also, there’s the thing with him feeling Kristin presence again. Like he always feels it in the temple, especially when in sight of a statue, but the catacombs really are Kristin’s domain, even more so than the rest of the temple. And it’s interesting that he also feels Clara’s presence now, because he didn’t at the start or he thought he didn’t. And then that changed when he started getting visions, but it makes me wonder how much of it is really there presence and him much of it is just Wilbur’s imagination/state of mind.

Also, I’ve said it before, but Wilbur so would have an non-believer like Quackity is he hadn’t been yoinked to be the Pythia. [He didn’t want Her watching him. He was here for Phil. Not another goddess.] my man is so done with the whole religion thing. I hope going back to the palace doesn’t fuck him up too much.

(Side note: [Despite the serene look on his face, the Pythia could still see the worry brewing behind his eyes. Whatever Kristin told him might’ve reassured him for the time being, but it wasn’t enough to abate Phil’s concerns entirely.] This might be about the whole coup in general, but I am very worried about Tommy, though there’s no major character death warning, and if I remember correctly you always put those there beforehand (though that might have been a different author.)

(1/?)

-🌲

okay now time for the more recent asks lol

like I said in the older ask of yours I answered, kristin didn't have to tell phil wilbur was in there. wilbur was just really fucking noisy opening that door like he wasn't subtle at all

he was definitely surprised that wilbur walked into the catacombs on his own though. that was something he wasn't expecting.

I won't confirm or deny anything you speculated about kristin vs clara's presence, but I will say a LOT of it is dependent on wilbur's state of mind and his own feelings. like, this story is told entirely in his head. whenever he feels something, it's through his subjective point of view. if you're ever wondering how much of it is influenced by his own head, it's always going to be more than you think.

don't worry I will tag my fics properly if the need arises. though on rare occasions instead of MCD I might tag a fic with creator chose not to use archive warnings instead, if I felt that it was necessary not to spoil things. (that's not to say any fic I write with creator chose not to use archive warnings is going to have MCD in it, just that if MCD does happen and you think I didn't tag for it, look to see if I tagged it creator chose not to use archive warnings bc I almost certainly did)

either way though, rest easy bc glass doesn't have MCD or creator chose not to use archive warnings tagged lol

[rangergurlgleek1211]

One Line Any Fic

Tagged by the lovely @ravens-words.

Rules: pick any 10 of your fics, scroll somewhere to the mid point, pick a line, and share it! then tag 10 people.

A bad Day To Break Down (Tarlos)

As soon as Nancy hangs up, Carlos is dialing TK’s number, cursing in Spanish as TK’s voicemail kicks in. Trying two more times and still getting TK’s voicemail, Carlos quickly gets dressed, grabs his keys, and even takes his gun from the safe in their bedroom.

A Shock To The System (Tarlos)

“No, Mijo, this isn’t your fault. Please don’t be so hard on yourself,” Andrea soothed him, her motherly voice surrounding him like one of those warm embraces his mother used to give when he felt like everything was collapsing around him. That tone had always meant family, home, and safety to him, and TK had been sure he had lost it with his mother’s death. Until this moment. “He’s strong, my Carlitos. He would never leave this world knowing you were right here waiting for him. He has to be fine,” Andrea continued, her words sounding so sure, giving him the strength he needed. “Pray with me, Mijo.”

I Could Really Use A Hug (Tarlos)

TK doesn’t know how much time has passed when he notices his dad and Tommy come into the bunk room, hesitantly standing at the door but not approaching. They're having a quiet conversation he can’t hear. His dad eventually begins to start toward him but Tommy’s hand on his shoulder stops him as she nods to the left, looking at something or someone outside the room.

That first night TK,That night i told myself seeing you at the bar. "I'm going to Marry him." (Tarlos)

“Yeah babe, that night while I was leaning against the bar, I noticed you smiling and laughing with your new crew. I was in awe. I never thought I would find someone in Austin. I was at a loss for words until I walked up to you when your friends went dancing. I knew then I just had to ask you to at least dance with me........"

Actually TK He is My Ex-Boyfriend (Tarlos)

“Oh just spit it out!!, it can’t be that bad, He mess up your organised desk, or has done something to disrupt you being a control freak ” TK replied sarcastically, laughing as he finished.

Why Can't things ever be simple? (Tarlos)

“My team has, I’m so happy I found you and your both okay. Or just about. What happened here, mate.” Tk asks as he crouched down in front of the injured boy.

“ We ran into a coyote, we tried to run but max fell. I think he broke his leg.” Chris explained.

We're a family, we will always have each others backs! (Tarlos+Firefam)

“How the heck did I miss that memo Strand” Captain Jacobs booms from behind them.

Everyone jumped at his sudden appearance.

“ That explains everything much clearer now, especially since you struggle to do your job correctly,” Samuels exclaims.

Am I Not Good Enough? (Tarlos/2x06 Coda)

“Hey” Carlos tips Tk’s chin up to look at him “If it’s got you this upset, it’s not stupid”

Pulling away from Carlos, Tk looks back down and spills everything that has been on his mind all day. What his father said, what happened at the minefield and how he found the bottle of wine in the bottom cupboard while making dinner.

Why Does It Always Happen To TK? (Tarlos)

Not hearing Matt Talking to him, Tk interrupts “Sorry Matt, but I really need to get back to my table my boyfriends waiting for me”. Looking a little shocked at matts closeness Tk took a step back. Realising the predicament he’s now in, Tk tried to look for any kind of escape. Watching everyone around them having a good time, TK realised he needed to sort this out by himself, so TK moved around Matt to walk away from him.

A Blast From The Past (Tarlos)

Tk’s vision slowly started to come back into focus and the words around him became clearer. Tk felt tired. It had been years since he had a panic attack that bad. New York, Tk’s mind registered. Remembering it slightly and realisation dawned on him as he slowly looked around at the crowd who had gathered, looking for the cause of his panic attack.

Well that was more than a sentence. But i couldn't just choose one line from each paragraph lol. hope you enjoyed these snippets and want to read more.

Tagging : @sapphire11,@chaotictarlos, @detective-giggles, @noxsoulmate, @tarlos-spain. @beautifulhigh.