#so it's often a struggle to avoid jumping the gun from point to point

[lynn-tged-posting]

Hi, can I ask something about tged? Like in the manhwa there's an implication that Suho was sick(?) .... How sick is he though? Did the novel give more explanation? Was there a big difference between manhwa Kim Suho and the novel Kim Suho? I haven't read the novel yet but I don't mind any spoiler. I'm just, thinking of him and you're the first one that came to mind to ask:D thank you!

HIII i haven't quite finished the novel yet so i'm not sure how it's explained in the novel, but i can explain my understanding of the manhwa's side of things! i'm sure the manhwa reflects some of the novel at least in this regard, so hopefully this is a satisfactory answer for you :3

the implication that suho was "sick" - from what i understand based on the official and some fan translations - isn't referring to a bacterial/viral sickness, but rather it's implied that it was a mental illness/disorder. in episode 154 of the manhwa, suho explains directly (for the first time at that) that he had a constant/chronic anxiety and fear of the world around him, and it followed him wherever he went. it was alleviated with support from his parents, but when his parents also fell, his own mental disorder worsened (likely to a similar point as he is shown in the present episode: panic-attack-like symptoms such as issues with breathing, pain in the heart, trembling etc.). he never names what exactly it was he had (i.e. whether it's general anxiety disorder, social anxiety, a phobia of some kind, or a panic disorder), but either way it's made pretty clear that it's something that affects him emotionally/psychologically (to the point that there's physical symptoms).

he also mentions to alicia that he's done research on "diseases of the mind" etc. when alicia asks about how lloyd came to know how to fight back against the dark magic. this came before the seoul arc, so it's pretty well done foreshadowing that suho either a) had someone in his life who struggled with mental illness or b) struggled with it himself, seeing as he is familiar with it - and now we know it's both :').

whether or not it's mentioned in the novel isn't something i know personally, but regardless of whether it's a big talking point in the novel i think it's pretty important to suho's character! suho's struggles with mental illness likely affected how he saw himself, especially considering his dependency on his parents (and the subsequent loss of his parents as well). repaying your parents by taking care of them in turn once you're old enough is a pretty significant part of asian familial culture; not only did suho not have that chance, but he also had a much higher dependence on his parents to navigate the world compared to that of a neurotypical / non-anxious person. can you imagine the guilt that could come from that? especially once suho realizes other people are wondering "how could they leave their child alone?", when he definitively knows that they were supportive, caring, loving people... the one thing he could do is protect their name, by working to prove that they raised him right, because otherwise, he'd continue being a "burden", a dependent (not saying he IS a burden, just that he likely thought of himself that way). i think this is a big root of suho's constant "living for others" behavior, and it certainly rears its head when it comes to those closest to him like arcos, marbella, julian, and javier. like hell, in ep 160, when arcos asks suho to let them help, suho responds by saying "so long as you are healthy, that's all the help i need". a second chance to support/protect the people who care most about him,,,

anyway, case in point is that suho's struggles with anxiety and mental health make him such a strong character, as even through it all he is tenacious, hardworking, and so full of love! i love him a lot,,, he deserves the whole world

i think that's all, i hope this helps ur understanding of suho! i'm sorry i haven't read the novel yet to do a full comparison between manhwa suho's and novel suho's struggles, but hopefully this gave you some clarity :3 once i do read the novel maybe i'll do a deeper dive post about the two of them and whether they presented similarly hehe~ thank you for asking!!!

[wizard-on-whales]

A Fine Night For Debauchery (Arthur Morgan x Reader)

NSFW - Minors do NOT interact

Warnings: near drowning, Arthur is a cheeky bastard (Who also gets a raging boner when he sees boobies), lots of teasing...I mean LOTS, filthy shameless smut, fingering, P in V, unprotected sex, pet names

Word Count - 3k

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Trelawny. Goddamn Josiah Trelawny. You blamed him for the impure thoughts that were keeping you up. Not that they were about the man himself but that dress he made you wear. You and Arthur were the main distraction for the Riverboat mission you had been sent on. The two of you were playing a newlywed couple there to win a little extra money for the success of your marriage. And to rub your “riches” in since Arthur had recently hit a score in the oil business. None of that was true, of course. And it wasn't the first time you and Arthur had been paired together for a mission where you had to pretend to be a couple, but tonight seemed more intimate.

You sat on his lap, one arm wrapped around his shoulder while he played the poker game. You could feel Arthur shifting under you now and then, his eyes subtly glancing down at your chest that was practically shoved in his face. The dress that Trelawny had picked out for you was extremely tight and revealing. Your corset pushed your breasts up to the point they were practically spilling out of the top. And although you usually wore low-cut dresses, you never wore corsets. You found them to be too claustrophobic, so you avoided them. You felt uncomfortable in the thing; it was digging into your sides and seemed to be a size too small. The feeling of it cutting into you caused you to squirm often, and every time you moved, Arthur flinched a little, sucking in a breath. At first, you thought he was shifting from your weight; maybe he was just trying to get more comfortable under you and the unnecessarily heavy dress you wore. But once you realized why he was actually shifting, you felt hot. If the makeup you wore wasn't as heavy as the dress, everyone would have been able to see how red your cheeks were burning. 

Once he had won the game and got up to collect his reward, tension seemed to be released from his shoulders. You assumed he was uncomfortable, not wanting to be seen as just another one of those men. He wasn't, you knew that. Things like that weren't controllable, so you washed it off as just the compromised position you had been sitting in for so long. 

All of those thoughts were quickly thrown out of your brain when shots were fired. You ducked behind the bar and pulled your skirt up, pulling your gun out where it had been nestled on your thigh the whole night. Once the coast was clear, everyone made a run for it. You, Arthur, Javier, Trelawny, and Strauss jumped off the side of the boat and started swimming for shore. The only problem was your dress made it impossible to swim. As soon as you hit the water, it quickly weighed you down, getting heavier the more water it absorbed. 

“God damn this dress!” Your arms flailed as you panicked, hardly being able to keep your head above the water. Arthur noticed your distress and swam towards you, helping to keep you up,” Get this thing off of me!”

Arthur tugged at everything he could, trying to untie the corset and undo buttons, but they weren't coming undone quickly enough.  

“How the hell am I supposed to do that!” He started to panic as you continued to struggle in his arms. He was able to unhook the front of your corset, pushing it off before seeing the maze of strings that held your dress up.

“I don't know, figure it out!” Arthur hesitated for a moment before grabbing the seams sitting against your breasts and ripping the fabric. One hard jerk was all it took for the dress to come off. He pulled you flush against him with one arm and pushed the rest of the dress down your legs. 

“That works,” you felt your cheeks flush red. You still had your undergarments on, and despite wearing them around camp often at night, you had never felt more exposed in front of the man. Although you could swim on your own now, Arthur still kept his arm firm around your waist as the two of you swam to shore together. 

Now here you were, lying on your bedroll, staring at the rotting ceiling above you. Your hair was still damp from the water, and although you had changed out of your wet bloomers into a nightgown, your skin was still cold to the bone. Your mind was flooded with impure thoughts you were trying desperately to get rid of. With Dutch being your brother, you had known Arthur the whole time he had been in the gang. He was 14 when Dutch and Hosea found him, and you were 12. Although you had always found him attractive, you would have never admitted to having a crush on him.

The two of you were close, supposed to be like family, but as you continued to lay there, you questioned if your relationship had ever been like that. The constant subtle touches, the occasional flirty banter, the few times the two of you had slept in each other's arms looking for warmth or comfort. Nothing inappropriate had happened those nights you slept next to each other, but now you couldn't help but wish something had... 

The thought of Arthur ripping your dress off so easily made your cheeks burn again. You let out a heavy sigh before getting up from your bed roll and making your way up the creaky, old stairs of Shady Bell. Your heart pounded with each step you took. You stopped in front of Arthur's door, hesitating for a moment before opening it. Arthur was sitting up on his bed, journal in his hand. He looked up before quickly closing it and clearing his throat a little. You noticed his cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. 

“You alright?” He asked, standing up and putting the journal on his map table. You still stood in the doorway, your hand sitting on the knob. 

“I uh…,” You looked away from him and out the broken window, trying to form a thought. He stepped closer, which clouded your brain even more,” Never mind.” 

Just as you went to step away, Arthur grabbed you. His hands placed firmly on both of your arms as he kicked the door shut. Your heart rate picked up as you looked up at him. Arthur was looked down at you in a way he had never done before. Like a predator stalking its prey. Your brain finally formed a sentence as you stared at the burning desire behind his eyes. 

“I need you, Arthur,” the words came out quiet.

“Im a bad man, darlin’,” His voice was just as low. You moved your arms slightly, and he immediately let you go. You wrapped them around his shoulders, pulling him down slightly. 

“You know Im worse,” Your eyes were fixed on his lips as yours hovered above them. Arthur dropped his head, his lips hungrily devouring yours. He stepped back, dragging you with him, his lips still on yours. He pulled you with him until the back of his legs hit his bed. He pulled away from you, a strand of saliva following as he did. 

“You sure you wanna do this, girl?” His words seemed genuine as he stared at your eyes and lips. 

“I've never been more sure,” You pushed his shoulders down, making him sit on the edge of his bed. Stepping back a few feet, you grabbed the bottom of your nightgown and pulled it over your head, throwing it onto the floor next to your feet. Arthur's eyes gazed over every inch of your body, drinking in your features like you were a smooth glass of whiskey.

“Come here,” you stepped closer, your legs against his. His rough hands immediately went to the back of your legs; one stayed put with a heavy grip. The other drug up your leg to your stomach until it was grazing dangerously close to your breast, “ Sit.” 

You obeyed. You were a rough woman yourself... hell, probably more ruthless than Arthur. You almost never took orders from anyone, not even your own brother. Anyone who told you what to do would get a gun in their face, and it often ended with their brains on a wall. But here you were doing exactly what Arthur was telling you to. Like a dog eager for a treat. You sat on his lap, straddling him. Arthur smirked, his thumb swiping over your nipple. You wrapped her arms around his shoulders and leaned down, kissing him feverishly. Your hands grabbed his suspenders and pushed them off of his shoulders. You leaned back and started to unbutton his shirt. While you did, Arthur's eyes never left your face, his hands slightly roamed your body, feeling every curve he could. Once the final button was undone, Arthur took the shirt off and threw it to the side. Your hands immediately went to his chest, feeling him up and down. 

He knew you watched him whenever he would do chores around camp. The way his muscles flexed through his shirt when he carried the hay bales or threw bags over his shoulders. And your eyes would never once leave him if he was chopping wood. His shirt off, suspenders hanging from his hips, just like they were now. His back and arms flexing with every swing. He wouldn't look at you while you stared, but he could feel your eyes burning a hole in him. And oftentimes it would end in Miss Grimshaw yelling at you to get back to work. You were staring at him the same way now, the same hungry look in your eyes burning a hole through him. 

Arthur couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed and shy about it, his cheeks flushing slightly, but you didn't care. You leaned back down to kiss him again, hands still roaming his chest and memorizing every defined muscle on his arms. His own hands still wandered your body as he moved one from her breast and her heat. One finger dragged slowly up her cunt causing you to let out a quiet whine. 

“God,” He groaned into your mouth, “Yer’ soaked, and I've hardly even touched ya. Whatchu’ been thinkin’ about, girl.” He removed his mouth from yours, his finger still barely touching your heat.

“You,” You breathed quietly, “The way you-” he pushed a finger inside of you, cutting off your words as you moaned. 

“What about me,” He smirked, his mouth hovered right above yours, his breath hot against your lips.

“The way you ripped my dress off…so,” he pulled his finger out and pushed two in this time, “God- so easily.” 

“I've been thinkin' bout’ that all night too, darlin’. Can't sleep because of me? Can't sleep because you've been thinkin' about fuckin’ me? Hmm?” He picked up his pace, his two fingers moving quickly, his thumb barely grazing your clit. You dropped your head to his shoulder, mouth open, but nothing came out. You knew you had to be quiet, or someone would hear. There may have been walls, but they were thin and rotting, and the broken window didn't help, “Is that it, Darlin? Gotta answer me, or I'll stop.” 

“God, yes. Please, Arthur,” You let out another quiet moan, biting his shoulder slightly to muffle it. He groaned as you bit down, his hips moving slightly to ease his own throbbing heat.

“Please, what?” His teasing frustrated you, but your brain was too clouded to tell him off. 

“Fuck me, Arthur, please.” That was all it took. He pulled his fingers out and flipped you onto the bed so that he was on top. Your hands quickly went to his pants, unbuttoning them and pushing them down his hips slightly. Your finger traced his hip bones and V-line. He sat back up and pulled them off the rest of the way. 

“So eager…all for me,” He leaned down, whispering in your ear before planting a wet kiss on your collarbone. He placed a heavy hand on the base of his cock, pumping it a few times and letting out a groan before lining it up with your entrance. 

He pushed into you slowly, both of you letting out a sigh. Arthur dropped his head to your chest, kissing one of your breasts as he bottomed you out. The man was large on every term, towered over most men in height, could easily toss anyone over his shoulder, so it was no surprise he was blessed below the belt too. 

“You alright?” He looked you in the eyes, letting you adjust to his size before continuing. You nodded your head and bit your lip slightly, “That ain't gonna work, darlin'. Use your words.” 

“Yes,” He connected his lips to yours once again and slowly moved his hips. You moaned into his mouth as he moved quicker, “Please, Arthur. Faster.” You threw your head back against the hard mattress. 

“You like it rough, don't ya,” Arthur groaned as his hips continued to hit yours, picking up his pace. You couldn't speak, only nod your head and let out another strangled moan, “ I should've known, you dirty girl.” The noises coming from between your legs were filthy, getting messier as Arthur's strokes became more desperate. 

“God, Arthur,” You moaned his name, your hands pulling at his hair. He clamped a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. 

“Yeah, that feel good?” He asks, his tone mocking her slightly, “Gotta be quiet unless you want the whole camp knowin’ how much of a whore you are.” He grunted, pulling one of your legs up further and kissing your neck. He bit down on the soft skin on your collarbone, trying to mask his own noises. The coil in your stomach tightened, your legs wrapping tighter against him. Arthur could tell you were close, so he steadied his pace, wanting you to finish before him. He lifted his head from your shoulder and watched your face as you got closer. You bit your lip to keep yourself quiet, pulling yourself closer to Arthur as your back arched. Your breathing got heavier as you let out a breathless moan, your nails digging into Arthur's scalp. You let go, feeling everything in your body tighten before immediately relaxing. Arthur pulled out, his hand desperately finishing what had been started, wishing his hand was your warm walls. You watched as he finished, groaning to himself as his filth leaking out onto your stomach. 

“Jesus,” He let out quietly, leaning forward to kiss you. You wiped the loose strands of hair that stuck to his forehead out of his face. He pulled back, looking at you. This time instead of being full of lust, he looked at you with the sweetest eyes, a slight smile on his face. The two of you stayed like that for a few seconds, drunk on each other. He sat up slightly, grabbed his shirt off of the floor, and cleaned you up, “Shit, yer shakin’, darlin’.” 

“I'll be okay,” You planted a small kiss on his forehead and wrapped your arms around his shoulders again, pulling him closer as he finished cleaning you up. He layed down next to you, wrapping his heavy arm around your middle. Your back was against his chest, his face buried in your hair. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now,” Arthur said quietly, placing a small kiss on the back of your head. You smiled slightly to yourself, resting your hand on his arm. 

“You been havin’ dirty thoughts bout me for a while, Cowboy?” You teased him slightly, his arm wrapping tighter around you. 

“The filthiest,” You could hear the smile in his voice as he kissed your neck. 

“Well, I guess you'll just have to tell me all about them, so I make sure they come true.” You turned in his arms so that you were facing him.

“I won't say no to that,” Arthur leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on your lips, “But for now, I just wanna hold you and get some sleep.” He gave you a soft smile, and you agreed with him. Both of you closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth of each other's arms once again, only this time, the night hadn't been innocent.

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[stargazedwinchester]

Comfort | Cas

Summary: You've been suffering from nightmares recently, and call upon a certain angel for comfort.

Sorry it's a little short compared to what I've written before! Hope it's still okay! Based on this request here, thank you!

Word count: 722

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

You thought that nightmares were a thing of your past, or even what your day-to-day life is now.

Obviously, you wouldn't be living a somewhat normal life without them, of course, but it doesn't mean they absolutely frighten you half to death. You awaken, your heart feels like it is about to pound right through your chest. The dream itself felt so real, your eyes dart around to ensure that you're completely safe. You sigh in relief, forcing your eyes shut, and your hands covering them. "Please, God, just one night of sleep. That's all I ask." You moan, rubbing your eyes and then your face. "I beg. Just one night." You try to make yourself comfy again when there's a very quick whooshing sound coming from the front of your bedroom door. "Hi."

You jump, rapidly pulling your gun from under your pillow, and pointing it toward a man in a trenchcoat. "Jesus, Cas," You startle, lowering your gun. "You terrified me." You say, sitting up in bed. "Sorry, Y/N. I heard your prayer. You're struggling to sleep?" He says, cocking his head to the side. His eyes wide and full of sparkle. The feeling of comfort has suddenly taken over you once Cas' presence had been known. He's always managed to make you feel safe and protected, even when he's not around. You have always had a deeper connection to Cas compared to the Winchesters, but that didn't mean you loved them any less. It's just that your feelings towards Castiel are different... and they didn't need to know that.

Cas takes his coat off and hangs it on your door handle. His shoes as well. He pads over to the edge of your bed and faces you. "Yeah, the past few weeks have been difficult and I don't know why. I genuinely don't remember the last time I had a good night's sleep," You say, and his eyes lower to the sheets, then to you. "I want to try something." He says, looking up at you. His gorgeous blue eyes complimenting his features in the dim light of your bedroom makes your heart flutter. "Y-yeah, of course, what is it?" You ask, keeping your voice lowered. If either of the brothers heard that you've got Cas in your bedroom right now, neither of you would be able to live it down.

"I um," He starts hesitantly. "Is it okay with you?"

"Yeah, it is." You say, unsure of what his next moves are. He gently gets onto the other side of your bed, he leans back, one leg over the other. He places his arm under you, and gently moves you to lay with him. Your brain has all sorts of thoughts and questions right now, but it's best to leave it. "Do you... like this?" He asks, sounding unsure within himself. You grin. "Yeah. It's comforting."

"I've watched enough movies to know that this is what people in relationships do." He says, you look up at him and his eyes are shut. He looks content, and then he opens his eyes and moves his gaze onto you. Feeling nervous, you cuddle yourself closer to him, avoiding eye contact. Something like this happening definitely didn't cross your mind for what his plan was.

Your whole body relaxes at his touch. He slowly, but gently, moves his hand down to stroke your back. He keeps his gaze on you, a simper that never seems to fade. His tender demeanour puts your mind at ease as you place a hand on his chest. "You're so warm," You mumble, inching closer. "That's a good thing, right?" He says, and you nod "Mhm."

You calmly place your hand against his cheek, stroking his face. This time you make eye contact with him, and all he can do is stare at you lovingly. He's clearly enjoying this time spent with you, as it's not very often (if at all) that this happens. You reach up to him and give him a peck on the cheek, moving your hand back down to his chest. He turns over to face you, pulling you in so your head is underneath his chin, breathing in his faint smell of cologne. He cautiously rubs the bottom of your back as you both drift off into a deep sleep together.

[marshmallowprotection]

what do u mean by Danger Ray ?

Okay, so I coined the phrase "Danger Ray" a few years ago so it's likely been lost in translation by now. People started to use it often across the fandom. If you're wondering where that came from, that was me. But, when I say it, I'm speaking to the reality that is a fact a lot of people ignore. There is this tendency for people to think Ray is helpless and gentle when that isn't the case. Listen, he's definitely an insecure person who struggles to feel strong, that's one aspect of his character, but the Flanderization of Ray only being soft makes it hard to read and interact with content for him.

When I say "danger", I am affirming to you that he IS DANGEROUS. I point to the fact that he is a DANGER. He and Unknown are the ones with the Assistant Routes. Suit Saeran doesn't make you his assistant to work with. No, it's only Ray and Unknown. Ray doesn't take no for an answer. You have to call the cops on him and damn him to death if you want to avoid him; Because the prologue has 3 paths.

Willingly go to Mint Eye, deny him, and let him take you to Mint Eye, or call the cops. That's it. Moving aside from that, Ray holds the same gun that Suit Saeran does. He never uses it, but he has it. Just keep it in mind since that one isn't talked about. He is the one who tortures V in the basement during V Route and it's vicious. Ray is just as much of a threat as Suit Saeran can be to you or Unknown.

I say "Danger Ray" to instill the fact in your mind that he isn't always safe.

But, that's one of the aspects I love about him. He's got many layers that jump all over the place. I love seeing him written out to be what he really is, and that means he's a boy who yearns to be a prince for you and a man who won't let go of your hand if someone tries to so much as take your time, much less take you away.

So, for my birthday on Tuesday, I've got a delightful surprise coming with Ray in mind!

[cynettic]

Hey so I just read the Laser Tag AU and maaaan, now I really want to play Splatoon smh aksksjjdjs

Anywayyy my point is: may I request more hcs but with the other boyos (Childe, Albedo, Bennett, Razor, Chongyun, Xingqiu and maybe Aether if you do him too xD)

Laser Tag ( genshin x reader )

Summary - Genshin characters playing laser tag with you their s/o.

Pairings - Reader x Childe/Bennett/Razor/Chongyun/Albedo/Scaramouche

Warnings - Mention of guns and shooting.

A/N - Added in Scaramouche- But I couldn’t think of anything for Xingqiu. I can surprisingly see the majority of the Genshin boys being good at wielding guns, even though they’d probably suck lol

Laser Tag

Childe

Childe is a beast.

Whether it’s in the terrain of his battlefield, or the streets of Liyue playing laser tag, Childe plays to win. He’s always been the competitive type, enjoying the thrill of battle, or in this case, laser tag.

He loves the game.

And of course, you just have to end up on the opposite team as him.

This game is the perfect setup for an enemies to lovers kind of vibe btw. With him shooting at your comrades and eliminating them from left to right, and you doing the same for his team. Very few people stand against him in this game, and his accuracy and sense of battle.

The two of you will spend the entirety of the game playing cat and mouse. Childe chasing after you while you simply escape his sights every time, taking down his teammates while you’re at it.

Childe isn’t as interested in winning, and once you prove to be worthy of a decent laser tag battle, he tries his best to force you to confront him.

Of course you on the other hand take his reckless behaviour to your advantage to turn the game in your favour and strike down his team. You know it’ll piss him off later when you win.

However, it Childe does manage to catch you…

The two of you will fight, that much is obvious. Dodging and attacking him, he will get very into it. Maybe a little too much, but you don’t give in, not until the very end.

Not until he’s on top of you, the two of you toppled over a bunch of hay that cushions your fall when he crashes into you. Not until he’s holding the plastic revolver against your temple, staring straight into your eyes with his signature smirk.

He might sneak a little kiss in there just to throw you off.

But in the end he will make sure he wins, or rather, he eliminates you. He doesn’t care if he doesn’t win the entirety of the game, taking you down was satisfactory enough, and he feels well accomplished and content after.

Would definitely rub it in your face.

If you brush it off as something you didn’t really try in, be prepared to be pinned against the wall and kissed until you admit that you were in fact, doing your best. And yes, he won fair and square.

Bennett

Omg this precious boy-

Bennett will try his hardest, stick by your side and shoot at any approaching target. Considering that the two of you are on the same team, he will promise to protect you.

With one problem.

No matter how well he aims, whether it is going to hit his target or not, the lazer disagrees. Rather, his terrible luck absolutely ruins it and somehow his lazer point ends up somewhere completely else.

“It changed its direction completely!”

Well… you never know, maybe it’s the gun that sends the lazers ray so far off, but considering it’s Bennett, you know it’s no coincidence.

So you end up protecting him.

Dragging him from place to place and shooting down your opponents, the two of you spend your time tripping over random large ass rocks ( with only Bennett’s terrible luck to blame ) and attacking opponents.

You make sure that Bennett is not shot, no matter what. And you give everyone else a terrible glare that basically screams that if they shoot him, they’ll face your wrath.

Nobody shoots Bennett.

By the end of the game, he’ll be grinning ear to ear. And even if he didn’t manage to eliminate anyone, he’ll boast about how his amazing dodging skills pulled him through the game. You’ll agree, lacing an arm around his shoulders and pulling him to the good Hunter to get a good meal.

Just to buy one though, the poor boy can’t cook for his life.

Razor

“Razor… very confused.”

The wolf boy has difficulty with the rules of the game, but the concept of pointing the gun at an opponent and shooting them with a lazer isn’t too hard to grasp.

You find out very quickly that Razor is actually pretty good with aim.

His hands don’t shake for one, and he is so adept to his surroundings that people struggle finding the source of their depleting health. Despite being overall confused at how to play, Razor easily becomes one of the main players taking opponents down.

As someone on his team, he makes sure to keep you by his side the entire time. He understands the elimination part, and he doesn’t want his lupical to get taken out, even if it’s a game.

He can be oddly affectionate at certain times, pushing your face against his chest as he takes out the remaining players in the field you both are in. He will carry you, and take no hesitation when pulling you out of the way, even if it’s a little too rough.

When the game ends, it might take a while to explain to the poor boy that your team won. And that it was a good thing.

Razor will begin to smile when he notices how content you are with it.

Chongyun

This man has the audacity to wield a gun while licking his ‘popsicle.’

Like goddamnit Chongyun, being good at shooting is already a flex, you don’t have to nibble at your popsicle while you’re at it.

You can’t really blame him though, it’s hot outside, and with the sun beaming down on the poor boy's head you know he can’t stand it. Especially with all the adrenaline and yells from opposing teams.

As someone on the same team as him, you take on the job of Chongyun’s personal popsicle restocker, and shooting anyone down once he gets tired. As good as the boy is at shooting, he sucks at keeping himself unknown to the other players.

So you take on the job to make sure they don’t shoot him down.

The two of you are a good team, and if it gets too hot, Chongyun might even let you have one of his popsicles. Of course you don’t have his talent of being able to shoot while having a popsicle in your mouth-

Your team will end up losing though, and even though Chongyun isn’t bothered, he will be slightly worried if you care. The two of you were obviously trying your best, and as long as you both had fun that’s all that matters to him.

But if it really bothers you that much…

He knows you feel comforted by physical contact, so he’ll hold your hand and offer a comforting smile. Tell you that you played well, and that he had fun.

That cheers you up right away.

Kiss him on the cheek please, even though he will flinch at the contact, his cheeks are flushed red and he won’t admit it. But he likes it.

Albedo

Why is it so easy to picture Albedo as a hot sexy stoic mafioso wielding a gun?

Anyways, Albedo is terribly good at wielding a gun. So good at that he only holds the plastic revolver with one hand, never missing a shot as he walks down the streets of Monstadt.

He knows the area well, so good luck trying to sneak up on him. The way his eyes so carelessly sweep the buildings, it hardly looks like he’s trying. Eliminating players with his lasers as he mindlessly strides past the fountain.

Of course, you’re against him.

Albedo isn’t really motivated to play, he’d rather be in his lab experimenting or recording down his discoveries. But he was dragged into this mess, he might as well play his part and support his team.

Albedo won’t hesitate to shoot at you and take you down.

As much as you may be important to you, he plays this game fair and square. He will take you down, or rather, he will try, because you get creative :)

He knows Monstadt well, but he can’t possibly keep his eye on all angles around him. So you’ll aim for his blind spots, throw yourself at him and tackle him to the ground. Simply eliminating him isnt satisfying enough, you need more.

So you turn this into a little game to fluster him.

Tackle him and pin him down, watch him scramble for the gun and then give him a peck on the lips. Watch as his grip loosens, and one of his hands instinctively come to nestle against your hair to pull you closer, and then you pull away.

Watching his idle confusement turn into a light blush on his cheeks is just too good, and how he grows even redder when you start laughing is even better.

Of course his team wins, not that he cares.

The minute the game ends he’s back in his office, conducting experiments. You can go interrupt him though, sneak into his office and press a kiss against his neck. He doesn’t often react or do much to it, but after your linger kiss at the game, he will pull you close and sit you on his lap. Have a proper make out session after you left him hanging with that peck earlier ;)

Scaramouche

This little man is ‘terrifying’.

It’s scary enough that whether you’re against him or on the same team as him, you keep your distance.

“Are you avoiding me Y/n?”

You play on the same team, and even if he’s your boyfriend, you know better than to stay too close when it comes to battle. He shows his cruelty, and you really weren’t looking forward to be put in the middle of that.

‘Unfortunately you didn’t have a choice-‘

Scaramouche will literally drag you, a hand looped around your waist to tug you to his side and take you along with him as he takes down opponents after opponents. He doesn’t ask for your praise, but you still give him it knowing he appreciates it. Mentally.

When he’s tired or bored, he will lean his head on your shoulder, wait there for a bit before jumping back up and shooting a random straggler on the sides. Heavens knows how the boy knows he was there, it’s like he has some sixth sense.

We don’t even want to get into his accuracy and precision, Scaramouche is born a mafioso.

At the end when your team wins, no surprise, give him a hug. Tell him he did well and even if he tries to push away, hold him tight. Even though he could easily pull your arms away if he wanted to, he’ll just pretend to give a little struggle and then give in to your warmth.

[raggaraddy]

I'd Die Fighting

Request from @dramaclub-thin: Mafia BTS where the reader is shot for/because of them.

A/N: Thank you for your request! I really like the concept, and kind of got carried away with the stories and now they're too long. So I'll release them as individuals as I finish them. I hope you like them! ^-^

If anyone else wants to request you can here.

Mafia Bangtan Other parts:

Namjoon

Yoongi

Taehyung

Jungkook

Summary: Pinned down by the cops, you know you're the only one who can stop Jimin from getting himself killed.

Trigger Warnings: Police shooting, gun usage, blood, violence, death, ambiguous ending.

Jimin

Mafia! Jimin

You were in the middle of a scheduled pick up, collecting the gang's share of the profits for the month. There had already been 3 today and all had gone as routine as the times before. You're in a residential building site, parked in one of the driveways, and on a Sunday too, so it's nice and quiet and empty. There was no reason to think that this stop would be any different than the last.

That was until the lights and sounds of police sirens filled the street.

You could only watch on in dread as 4 cop cars sped into the driveway trapping you and the two men into a box. With a 10-foot foundation wall behind you and building walls on either side, you were now realizing that this location wasn't so much secure, as it was an obvious dead end.

Looking back in the side-view mirror, you can see Jimin with the dealer. The guy panics instantly, pulling out his gun without a chance to even aim it before he is blown away. There are dozens of deafening shots all at once and the guy, no older than you, drops down dead.

Barely able to contain your terror, you are not able to do anything but to watch helplessly as Jimin dives behind the rear of the car to avoid the stray bullets.

Slowly, the officers start down the concrete path, closing in tighter, all of them with their guns drawn, all of them looking alarmed and ready to fire. With this many cops, you know neither of you stands a chance. There is no escape here, not without a miracle. But you know Jimin. You know he isn't going to just give in. He's said it before, he's said it often. He might die, but he'll die fighting before he dies in a cage.

The officer coming closest to the car bangs on the hood to draw your attention making you jump. "Stay in the car," He mouths the words.

You can't abide. If you don't do something Jimin is going to get himself killed. He may be willing to die, but you're not willing to lose him. You shake your head hard, swinging the car door open, stepping out tensely with your hands upright. Your arms and legs are shaking with pure adrenaline, relying on nothing but a prayer that they don't shoot you right now.

"Get back in the car." "Stay in the car." "Miss, get back in the car." A sea of loud, demanding voices shout at you all at once. While your survival instinct is telling you to obey the angry people with guns, you ignore them all. Your instinct-your love for Jimin is greater than your fear.

Walking paced steps backwards, you're watchfully eyeing them. They're still pressing forwards, but they have slowed substantially. Half of the group aiming more aggressively, and the other half pointing their guns at you more hesitantly. Calls of stay in the car turn into orders to get on the ground. But you can't, you won't.

Coming in line with the back of the car, Jimin is knelt behind it his gun in hand. "Y/n! What the fuck are doing?!" he snaps, eyes full of worry.

He may bluster to everyone else, but you know the full expression. In private he'd whisper the ending to you and only you. 'I'd die fighting before I ever die in a cage. And I'll spend my life locked up before I ever see you hurt.'

"Get back in the car!" He growls.

"No," you whisper.

"Get back in the car!"

"No."

"Oh for fucks sake, will you just listen to me for once!" He growls, running his hand back through his hair, about to lose any composer he has remaining.

"No!" You shout, your eyes darting from the cops to Jimin and back.

He roars, grabbing your shirt, yanking you down the ground beside him. The commands of the police heighten and start coming more frequently as they steadily begin to entrap the two of you again.

"I'm gonna beat the hell outta you after this." He shouts, reaching over the top of the car to fire a slew of shots, not aiming to hit anyone but just trying to keep the cops away.

"Fine. Do it. But just let there be an after." You plead, eyes filling with tears. "Put the gun down. Please!"

"What?! No!"

"Come out with your hands up or we open fire." A far off voice, coming through a speaker, gives a sickening order.

Jimin's harsh defiant look turns to one of pure fright and frenzy. He knows if they're shooting at him, they're shooting at you.

His hand scrunches in the scruff of your shirt, dragging you flat to the ground further out of harms-way, using the same momentum to launch himself into the open, weapon ready. He gets only 2 shot off before they retaliate with more than half a dozen. Not all connect, one catching his leg, another his shoulder. The hits double him over, making him drop the gun.

It all happens before you are able to even turn back over. The sight of him struck has you screaming, acting rashly and impulsively. You wail his name clambering to your feet, wrapping your arms around his neck. Lifting him upright, you're covering him with your body as much as you possibly can. You don't pause think what might happen right now if the officers began to fire again. You only know you need to save him from them. Save him from himself. Pushing him with your chest, you force him back more and more until his body hits the foundation wall. You turn yourself around towards the encroaching men and women, shoving your weight roughly against him. To shield him, and trying your best to keep him pinned to the bricks so he is unable to act suddenly or foolishly.

Thankfully the cops still seem hesitant to shoot at you. Although you don't trust it for it to last much longer.

Your stomach drops, feeling a warm wetness dripping over the exposed skin on your upper back. Jimin's shoulder is bleeding heavily down you.

This is so fucking bad.

"Stop, please stop, Baby!" You whisper to Jimin, nearly unable to form the words due to the shake in your voice. It's just the two of you opposing 7 armed police officer. You know he hates the thought of defeat, he may even hate you for this, but neither of you has any way of winning this standoff.

His forehead presses to the back of your head, his hot breath fanning down your neck. In the smallest motions, you feel him nod against you.

Raising them in surrender, his arms come out from behind you. There's a sharp pain in your side with a sudden booming sound. It knocks your breath away. You whine, your hand squeezing tighter against his legs, into the fabric of his jeans.

"Y/n?" Jimin knows what's happening before you do.

One of the officers mistook Jimins actions as hostile and got twitchy with his gun.

You gasp slumping back into him, your legs weakening. He catches you, lowering with you as you fall to the floor. "Baby!"

Jimin looks up to the cop who fired. He's memorizing every detail of their face. Already having resigned to hunt them down and make them suffer.

Finally able to inhale, you cry out a low scream, pain spreading from your stomach up. "Jimin," you cry clawing his arm, fingers wrapped in his sleeve.

The swarm of police starts to move more frantically. A knee flies at Jimin sending him into the wall, separating him from you. Without him, you fall flat into the dirt. To your right one of the men is forcing Jimin to the ground with a knee trying to flatten him. But he isn't giving in, fighting and struggling against the weight, desperately trying to get back to you.

Even as there are three of them versus only Jimin, he is still putting up enough resistance that they are unable to fully hold him.

"Y/n!" He yells, as one of his arms is pinned behind his back, driving him heavily into the dirt. "Get the fuck off!" he snarls.

Your throat feels full. You're starting to choke, spluttering blood out and down your cheeks. Your hands clutching your stomach are wet and slippery from blood. The heavy amounts of it pouring from you making you weaker with each passing second.

"Alright!" There's a heavy thump as Jimin stops resisting and is plunged aggressively into the floor. "Just help her! Help her!" With all of the pain and fear you're feeling, it's the pure panic in Jimin's voice that finally brings you to tears.

Rolling your head towards him, his chin is dug into the concrete floor, his skin and clothes red with blood, his face pale and flush, his eyes red and teary with emotion. With him no longer fighting they are able to cuff his hands. They haul him to his feet, carrying his weight. He yells in pain, his cries turning into pleas for you, calling again and again for someone, anyone to help you.

One of the officers comes to your side pressing firmly on your wound making you shriek, spitting out even more blood. They speak into their walkie-talkie describing your state and injuries calling for an ambulance. Explaining that a male will be coming to the hospital by a police cruiser.

In front of you, the others are dragging a limping Jimin away. Being pulled from you he begins his fight again, battling to not leave you. But he's too injured and restricted to combat them much more. Only able to call out to you over and over.

Even as the car doors close on him, you can still hear him shouting your name. Even as you lose consciousness you can still hear the echo of his voice.

[goldenroutledge]

shielding the other one with their body with any of the obx boys

kooklandia

pairing: pope heyward x reader

word count: 0.9k

warning(s): mentions of fire ?? topper slander at the end lol

a/n: decided to do it with pope! hope you like it :)

pope heyward masterlist

© goldenroutledge || do not plagiarize, repost, or translate my work in any way

The OBX annual summer movie night. And in the middle of Kooklandia at that, as Pope would describe it. With Kiara’s invitation, you, Pope and JJ all trudged to the large sheet-like screen and set up your folding chairs a fair distance away.

“Damnit.” You groaned, swatting at a mosquito on your neck. “Remind me why we agreed to come to this?”

“It happens once a year, guys. I’ve been to every single one since I could crawl.” Kiara reminded you all.

“My couch was pretty comfy, to be honest.” JJ sighed, leaning back in his chair and opening his can of Pepsi.

“Annually is too often. I hate coming to these things, Kie.” You disclosed. The curly haired girl debated with you, telling you it wasn’t that bad and how maybe one day you’ll take your kids to things like these. Until the two of you focused your attention on a nervous Pope and a rigid JJ, muttering back and forth to each other.

“So, you brought the peacemaker, right?” JJ held up the bag, silently confirming Pope’s suspicions.

“Please tell me you did not bring a gun here! JJ, there are kids, what are you thinking?” Kiara reprimanded.

“What’s going on?” You interrogated.

“Don’t worry about it. Safety precautions.” JJ answered for the two of them. Both you and Kie shook your heads in disapproval, turning towards the movie that was now starting.

About halfway through, you shifted uncomfortably in your seat in an attempt to stretch your muscles. Looking to your right, Pope and JJ were getting out of their chairs themselves, bending down to avoid blocking the view for others. “Where are y’all going?” You asked, eyes moving between the both of them for an answer.

“We gotta wring it out.” JJ shrugged simply.

“Are you gonna hold it for each other?” You shot back sarcastically.

“We’ll be right back.” Pope assured you.

Several minutes passed by, and the two boys still had yet to return. You nudged Kie with your elbow. “Do you think they’re okay?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t be surprised if they just left, you know?”

“But JJ’s bag is still here.” You pointed out, gesturing to the grass beside you.

“Don’t worry.” She whispered. “I’m sure they’re fine.”

You pondered her words for a moment. Gut feelings didn’t come to you often, so when they did, it was smart to listen to them. “Screw this.” You muttered to yourself, taking JJ’s bag and heading for the trail they took. Kiara reluctantly followed, the both of you turning the corner to find the boy you were looking for. Or both of them, but your concern lied with Pope as you watched him get beaten by Topper.

Without a second thought, you bolted, jumping on Topper’s back and beginning your assault on the kook. Kiara ran to JJ’s aid, attempting to distract Kelce and Rafe too.

“Topper, stop it! Let him go!” You all but screamed. His equilibrium shifted enough to stumble away, sending you flying off of his back and onto the ground. Pain shot up your tailbone and spread through the rest of your body momentarily, eyes scattering to find Pope.

“Y/n!” He shouted, Topper resuming his fight. The fabric of JJ’s bag brushed your leg. You didn’t know what made you start rummaging through it, only to find his gun, a few miscellaneous items, and his lighter. Your friends were all struggling with the kooks, narrowing your options.

Opening the cap, you sparked the flame and held it to the curtain displaying the old film, standing up and backing away to avoid the quickly spreading fire. Rafe was the first to notice, letting go of his grip on JJ as he rallied up his boys. “Guys, fire.”

From his words, Topper and Kelce retreated from either Pope or JJ as well. JJ coughed repeatedly, Pope gasping as they both tried to catch their breath. “Pope.” You breathed out as he wrapped his arms around you protectively, shielding you and guiding you away from the scene. “Are you okay?”

“I will be. Are you?” You nodded, peering over your shoulder to keep an eye on the hot flames. “You’re an idiot. You know that’s arson, right?”

“And? I saved your ass. Topper almost killed you.” You argued, both of you limping your way towards his truck.

“You could get into serious trouble for that, Y/n. Think before you set something on fire next time.” He opened the passenger door to his truck, helping you in before making his way to the driver’s side.

“Nobody even saw me.” You played it off, more so reassuring yourself. “At least I don’t think so.”

“Except Rafe, Topper and Kelce. We’re still on Figure 8. They could take you to the cops.”

You scoffed. “I thought you’d be a little more grateful that you’re still breathing.”

“Trust me.” Pope started, turning the key in the ignition. “I am. But you could’ve gotten hurt, Y/n.”

“Ok. Maybe I should’ve thought about it a little more.” You admitted. “But I didn’t have time. You could be unconscious right now if I had waited a few seconds too long.”

“I get it. Can you just promise me you won’t set anything else on fire? Like ever again?”

“I suppose I can.” You compromised, interlocking your pinky with his free one. “Maybe let’s not come back to Figure 8 for a while so I don’t have to. I might set Topper on fire for what he did to you.”

Pope chuckled at your last comment, though it wasn’t very funny because you weren’t entirely kidding. “Remind me to hide all of my lighters and matches from you, Y/n.”

You smirked, your fingers still loosely intertwined with his. He wasn’t gonna get you that easily. “That’s okay. I can just grab some sticks from the forest instead.”

a/n: halfway through this i debated changing it to a jj blurb and combining it with another request but i was like nahh. im too lazy to change it + i don’t get pope requests often so pope girls this one’s for you!

taglist: @ilovejjmaybank @missevi @nxsmss @cameronsrafe @msgorillagripcoochie @bibliophilewednesday @tovvaa @freddymaybank @annab-nana @babeyglo @sunsetholland @moniamaybank @outerbankspreferences @laneybobeczko-g @jjpouggues @j-j-may-bank @adorestarkey @maddyclines

pope taglist: @dmonchld

[otterbagel]

The Reunion (Part 2) Simon x Reader

Reader makes a rash decision, one that has long lasting consequences.

(Notes: Link to part 1! Hope you enjoy the rest of the story. :) )

The air in the building was tense as you stood in the elevator, watching the numbers slowly rise.

   The police had mostly left by now, all that remained were a few cleanup crews who were, for the most part, still here just to avoid going to their next assignment. Not that you blamed them; this had been quite a scary day.

   Since you weren't in charge of anything big, you hadn't even known anything was going on until the broadcast had nearly finished. You had been… what had you been doing? Vetting some stories you had found to be a bit too mundane for publication. Even though the strange interference had originated from a few floors above you, it took a panicked employee yelling at the TV for you to notice.

   There wasn't much anyone could do; police and security had already been notified. Just watching the skinless android on screen was the most productive thing your team could possibly do.

   And watch they did. A few were visibly jittery, talking about barricading the doors just in case they decided to come down here— although the thought of an android group demanding an entertainment piece be written about their exploits almost got a chuckle out of you— others were more frustrated and annoyed. Older employees trying to figure out how the topmost office was sieged so quietly, annoyed that they might have to stay late, even discussions about who sent the androids.

   Through it all you had remained calm, trying to lead the group as best you could through the confusion.

   The elevator dinged.

   But despite how you tried to compose yourself, you couldn't help but feel a sense of fear… and a deep longing.

    You stepped out, the hallway devoid of any life. The usual guards up here had been knocked out and were probably taking a very long vacation.

   At the very end of the hallway, right before the broadcasting room, stood a couple of human guards; you doubted they would risk using any androids up here for the foreseeable future.

   With the hallway as empty as it was, the guards immediately took notice of you.

   "Hey, what's your business up here?" One asked in a gruff voice.

   You held up your keycard, a passive way of showing your status. "I wanted to get a better look at the room," you pulled out your cellphone, gently shaking it in the air in an attention attracting manner. "Wanted to get some photos too— we don't have any good ones to use for our article on it."

   He appeared to ponder it for a moment before stepping aside, his partner following suit. He gave a nod.

   With a quick stride you entered the room.

   It appeared to have been deep cleaned, no trace of what had occurred. Some furniture had been moved aside, likely for cleaning. 

   Angling some of the less disturbed areas into the view of your phone's camera, you snapped a few quick pictures through the thickness of your throat.

   It felt eerie to be standing here.

   That android had been standing in nearly this exact location just hours ago, demanding rights and freedoms… that sort of talk would have him destroyed.

   And yet… you completely agreed with him.

   Your hands tensed on your phone as you looked to the floor.

   Why couldn't this have happened two years earlier?

   Why couldn't it have happened before that day?

   

   ...It didn't matter. He was far away, and safe from this sort of persecution. Maybe in Canada where no android laws existed… or maybe he was still in the States, just in a rural place and pretending to be human. 

   At least, that's what you told yourself to help you sleep at night.

   You shook the thought away. There was no use thinking about him now. 

   Bringing yourself back to reality, you took a cursory glance around the room. You didn't get to come up here very often, maybe once or twice in the year you had been writing for them.

   With the TV screen off, it was oddly empty looking in here.

   There seemed to be a couple of points of interest: a darkened break room and a stairway to the roof.

   Wasn't the roof where the deviants jumped?

   That would be an interesting photo. You doubted there were many before the incident.

   You climbed the dark stairs, taking in a deep, cold breath before you opened the outside door. 

   Chills ran down your hand and up your arm before you even had the door fully open.

   You let the door shut behind you, as you crossed your arms to ward off the cold. Being this high up made the wind much rougher than you were used to.

   The edge of the building was daunting. You hesitated to even approach it, lest a stray gust of wind send you sailing over. Without those parachutes, the intruders would've never made it back down in one piece.

   The wind was a bit much. You took a few quick pictures before stepping closer to some of the walls. At least it would give some sort of protection.

   There was a loud clanging noise nearby that made your phone fall out of your hands.

   After you got over your moment of frozen alarment, you kneeled down to scoop up your phone, eyes wide and looking for the source.

   Had that been the wind? Wouldn't you have heard it earlier if it was something that continuous and natural?

   You crept around the large, metal ducts. Had to be from one of those.

   There was an entrance to one of the metal compartments. That seemed to be the only place left for anyone to hide.

   A worried thought crossed your mind: had someone been stuck up here during the panic?

   Heading towards the door at a more brave pace, you stood a foot near the entrance with your hand reached for the handle. You paused, your more cautious nature pulling your hand away ever so slightly.

   "H-hello?" You questioned quietly towards the door.

   Silence.

   You exhaled a tense breath, your hand making its way to the metallic door.

   You knocked against it.

   A loud fumbling noise from inside and the clicking of a gun sent you stumbling backwards and into a panic. This had to be a deviant, somehow left behind in the chaos.

   "You don't wanna shoot me," your voice was higher pitched than usual as you fought against the wind and deep seated terror for breath. "The shots will be really loud. People will hear."

   

   "Just," the android's voice was hard to make out, the echo in the compartment distorting his words. "Just go away. Leave me alone. I just want to be left alone."

   After an extra second to make out what he said, you rose to a crawl and sat beside the door. "Why are you still up here?" You questioned. He didn't seem hostile.

   He was quiet for a while. "I was injured," he explained. "I couldn't make the jump. I wanted to see if I could get back down tonight."

   You nodded to yourself in understanding. "So… you're a part of that group of deviants? Are there a lot of them?"

   Things went uncomfortably quiet until he spoke up again. "...why would you like to know?"

   You licked your lips, struggling to verbalize the thoughts you had had bouncing around in your head for two years. "I… was friends with an android," you began wistfully and with a small chuckle. "I was wondering if he was okay, that's all."

   The android went quiet again, the sound of what seemed to be him shuffling around inside to get more comfortable filling the silence. 

   "I… well I find it hard to believe," he remarked softly. "A lot of humans are very cruel… few seem to care about what happens to us."

   He was right. It seemed that nobody cared about androids or bonded with them the way you had Simon. You couldn't understand the cruelty they could have towards androids if they did.

   You placed a hand to your chest. "I know that humans are normally cruel," you began. "B-but I honestly cared about him so much. I would've given anything for us to be together. I swear it."

   You stared at the ground while the android thought to himself.

   "I was lucky," the deviant began. "The human I knew was very kind. I had been discarded over and over… and reset every time. I wasn't as useful as other androids."

   You let your head rest against the metal as you listened. 

   "Then… they bought me. I knew I had been reset a lot… and expected they would do it too after they got bored of me…" his voice trailed until it was interrupted by a halfhearted laugh. "But they didn't. They treated me like a person. They… respected me. I felt like I might have had a future with them. A future where I wasn't just an object or a maid, but someone who brought meaning into the world."

   You let his story hang in the air while you thought of your own tale. You could only hope you had made Simon feel the same way.

   "When I… bought him," you felt gross saying it. "I didn't know much about androids. But after spending time with him, I knew he was so much more than what everyone tried to tell me. Just how… how beautiful of a person he was. He had to be more than that. I was excited to see him when I got home, to tell him about my day and to hear about his. He meant everything to me."

   The android's tone was calm. "It sounds like you loved him."

   You smiled to yourself, rubbing your hands together to warm them. "I still do," you responded, before the torrent of regrets washed over you like an unforgiving wave.

   It had been such a dumb mistake. But even the simplest slip-ups can destroy lives.

   You collapsed into sorrowful laughter, covering your face with a tense hand as you tried to hold back your overflowing emotions. "It was so stupid!" You exclaimed, lost in your own thoughts. "I… he needed repairs— his previous people were horrible… if I ever…"

   You shook away the thought to get back on track.

   "He… he needed skin repairs, so I thought it would be okay to go to a Cyberlife repair shop. But I didn't even think about whether they would check who his real 'owners' were," you spat. "When they found out how we had met, they were going to take him away. He had no choice but to run away. We were out of options."

   The android was quiet, but you were too emotional to pay much attention.

   "It was just one mistake! If I had just gone anywhere else… we could still be together." Your sorrow was brief before passion returned to your heart, directing your attention back to the metal door that was separating you and the android. "You have more androids with you, right? You don't have to tell me anything else, I just want to know if he's okay. His name is Simon. Have you met him? Please, tell me you have!"

   Loud, metallic fumbling came from the other side of the door before it flung open. You scuttled backwards in alarm.

   The blonde android nearly collapsed out of the doorway, his arm sliding off the door and onto the ground as held himself up to get a better look at you.

   It was him.

   He appeared troubled, but was fighting off a smile. "How… what are you doing here?" He whispered.

   "S… Si…" you stuttered, unable to get out his name in case it separated you two again.

   You snatched him up into your arms, enveloping him in a tight hug. He fumbled to return the gesture, letting his head rest on one of your shoulders.

   "I… I can't believe it," you sobbed. "It's you! You're here! You're actually h-here!"

   His hands gripped your clothing as if he was worried you would slip away. "But how are you here?" he asked, his voice shaking.

   "I work here now," you choked out through a laugh. "What are the odds?"

   "I can't believe this!" Simon fell into a bout of laughter himself. "I get to see you again!"

   You knew that whatever lied ahead for the androids and humanity, nothing would separate you two again.

[pinkja]

Jealousy (Ellie Williams x Female Reader)

Request:

jealous ellie imagine? 😳

—

Ellie was mad at you. She was so mad at you right now she couldn’t even think straight. She couldn’t think about about your how your (e/c) eyes shined and closed as your perfect mouth parted open to let out a laugh like a melody. She couldn’t think about how you wore Ellie’s sweater so cutely because it was a bit oversized on you. She especially couldn’t think about how she wanted to run her hands through your hair and pull you close and kiss–

NO! Ellie was mad at you. Ellie was very mad at you because you and your cuteness in its entirety were talking to some…some dude that Ellie knew in her heart wasn’t good enough to talk to you. Well…Ellie didn’t know what the requirements were to be good enough to talk to you, nor did she know the guy enough to actually tell if he met the requirements, but still.

Ellie wanted to go over there and grab you, but she didn’t want to make a scene at this pseudo party that Dina had dragged you both to. But she swore if she squeezed this empty cup any harder she would’ve broken it.

She eyed the guy again, her eyebrows furrowing. He was tall, but too skinny for someone who lived in the apocalypse. He looked like a bad shot, and he looked like a damn know-it-all, and he bit his lip too often for Ellie’s comfort.

Of course, Ellie’s opinions were filtered through the green glasses of jealously. Wait, no, Ellie wasn’t jealous. She was just being…protective. Yeah, that’s it. That guy could be a creep or something. He could be a douche who compares woman to…dogs or some other insulting animal.

“Ellie, I don’t think that man’s gonna turn to dust just because you’re staring at him like that.” Dina said into her ear. Ellie jumped, holding the cup to her chest as she turned to Dina.

“I wasn’t staring.” Ellie mumbled, shooting another quick glance at you two. “I don’t trust him…” She said after a few beats.

“So you were staring?” Dina was smug, raising her eyebrows with a smile.

“Just…just look at him, Dina! What is so important that he has to have his hand on her shoulder? It’s bullshit.” Ellie crossed her arms and started tapping her foot.

“Is someone jealous?” Dina cocked her head to the side. She did that a lot when she knew she was right.

“I’m not jealous! I’m just…I should be the one making her laugh like that…” Ellie mumbled the last part under her breath.

“You are! That’s so cute!” Dina jumped. “But let me just take that cup really quickly.” Dina took the cup from Ellie’s grip. “(Y/n) will be fine, Ellie. Come on, let’s get you drunk.” Dina led Ellie away, stopping her from looking at the pair.

Dina filled Ellie’s cup almost to the brim and made her drink it all. Ellie turned her head around to look back at two, eyes narrowing once again. Was he brushing hair out of your face? That was her job! You looked at the inside of your cup and avoided eye contact, giving him a half smile.

Aha! So the dude was a creep! He was a creepy creep and now Ellie could go over there and–

“Elliiie!” Dina dragged out her name and took Ellie’s cup away from her. “Everytime you look at them you’re gonna drink another cup.” She filled it to the brim again.

“I’ll die of alcohol poisoning.” Ellie deadpanned, not even denying looking at the two anymore,

“Then don’t look, hmm.” Dina handed the cup back to Ellie and they both drank again. Ellie had to force herself not to look again. These cups were pretty big and Ellie didn’t want to be blackout drunk any time soon.

Later, after several looks at you, and several drinks later, you were still talking to the dude. Of course he wasn’t the only one you had talked to at the party, but he was the only one who Ellie felt was being way too friendly. Although at this point in her life Ellie was pretty drunk so she wasn’t making the best judgements in her life.

“Dinaaaaa…” Ellie slurred, leaning on the girl’s shoulder. Dina turned to her, an eyebrow raised at the sudden contact. “I’m so…mad right now!”

“Let me guess, (y/n)’s still talking to the man who you described as ‘a terrible awful human being who probably doesn’t know the difference between a rifle and a pistol’?” There was amusement in her voice as she repeated Ellie’s words back to her.

“No!…Yes! But also,” Ellie patted her pockets, “I can’t find my keys…” Dina rolled her eyes and sighed, placing her cup down on the table next to her.

“Ok, time to go home, Ellie.” She grabbed Ellie’s hand and started dragging her towards you. “But my keys, Dina…” Ellie whined. “(Y/n)’s gonna take you home now.” Ellie started dragging her feet in protest.

As they approached you, they could pick up on some of your conversation.

“Oh, I go on patrol again in a couple of days!” You had said, placing your cup on the table next to you.

“Well, maybe I can see you again before then?” There he goes biting his goddamn lip again. And he was putting his hand on your shoulder, again. That’s two times in one night!

Ellie wanted to shoot him.

“Ok, you’re clearly about to go on a muderous rampage.” Dina quipped and stopped walking. If Ellie got any closer she would strangle the poor dude. “(Y/n)!” You stopped talking and turned towards Dina with a smile on your face.

“Hi, Dina! Hi, Ellie!” You excused yourself from your previous conversation and walked over to them.

“(Y/n), can you do me a favor and take Ellie home? She lost her keys.” Ellie pouted like a child when Dina told you of her drunken irresponsibility.

“Sure!” You grabbed Ellie away from Dina and walked out of the party with her leaning on your shoulder.

Dina smiled at you two, placing her hand in her pocket to feel around for a pair of keys. Ellie’s keys. “I should probably return these…Nah I’ll give them to Joel.” She turned and went to go talk to Jesse.

Once you and Ellie had made it back to your house, you unlocked the door and listen to Ellie mumble under her breath. You guided her to your room and laid her on your bed. Ellie flopped down with a groan.

“You!” She suddenly said, pointing an accusing finger at you. “I’m so mad at you right now!” She hiccuped after speaking.

With a tilt of your head you asked, “Why are you mad at me, Ellie?” You started to take her shoes off.

“Why do you have to be so damn…so damn c-cute! It’s not fair!” You took off her jacket, struggling a bit because Ellie swung her arms in her drunken ranting.

“Well I can’t exactly help that, Ellie.” You spoke calmly. Inside you were giddy at her compliment, although she was drunk at the moment.

“And then you-you and your cuteness…why did you have to talk to that creep? He looks like a terrible shot!”

“I was just being polite, Ellie. And also, you can’t keep judging people because you think they’re not good with guns.”

“I can and I will! I’m so much better at shooting than him! I swear I can shoot him under the table!” Ellie rolled over to her side. “He doesn’t deserve you…”

You giggled, causing Ellie’s face to turn red. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”

“I’m not jealous!” Ellie protested, puffing her cheeks out.

You moved to place her shoes by the door.

“Ok, Ms. Williams, who does deserve me then?” You walked back over to the bed and brushed some hair out of her face. Ellie pulled you down to the bed.

Ellie let out a huff and buried her face into your neck. You were going to tease her, but then she wrapped her arms around you and trapped you with her leg. She was clearly avoiding the question.

“Ok, you must be really drunk because you’re actually cuddling me.” She huffed again and made you wrap your arms around her. “Ok, I’ll accept it. This is a rare opportunity after all.” You laughed as Ellie mumbled into your shoulder.

Ellie breathed in your scent and closed her eyes. She would have such a hangover in the morning.

“Hey, Ellie?” You spoke. Ellie hummed, already sleepy. “Love you…” You could practically feel Ellie’s face burn into your neck. “My jealous baby.” You couldn’t help but tease her one last time. You ran your fingers through her hair and hummed a tune before she fell asleep in your arms.

[bonniebird]

8

Tommy x Reader

Living with Mr Shelby

Living with Mr Shelby Masterlist

Birmingham was quite this morning, to quiet I thought to myself as I quickened my pace so I could open the bookies on time. Jumping down the steps two at a time. John's kids were sick so Esme had to take the day off and after much persuading Tommy had let me take her place. He was on edge ever since his Blinders in London had informed Danny that Kimber was on his way to Birmingham.

Danny and Rosie had moved to a large country house halfway between London and Birmingham where Rosie and Danny ran a sort of open house for the Peaky Blinders. If you had a message it was sent to Danny or the Shelby's themselves several Blinders had stopped by after the races and Rosie soon saw a change for the better in Danny, pleasing Tommy to no end.

"You're late." Arthur muttered without looking up as I used the side door to enter the bookies so I wouldn't have to deal with the swarm of people outside.

"I know sorry... what are you doing?" I asked once I walked into the room and saw John loading up several guns, Arthur was stitching a new razor blade into Finn's hat and I could see the brand new blade in Arthur's hat already placed carefully on his head.

"We got trouble comin, Kimber ain't alone." He said in a gruff voice I glanced up at the stairs that led to a long corridor with two doors at the end one led to Arthur's office the other to John's house there was a similar one on the opposite side that I had just come from leading to Tommy's office or to the balcony that led to our house. Esme was leaning on the banister watching the Shelby's carefully and looked exhausted.

"Are there enough free men to keep the bookies open?" I asked knowing that Esme, Polly, Ada and myself would never be able to deal with the huge amount of regulars we normally got let alone the hundreds of people who turned up to place bets before the big race this weekend.

"Finn and the younger Blinders are gonna help, think we got two men that are gonna stay at the bookies to help ones a Lee he should be here soon... you gonna check on Tommy?" He added the last part with a curious tone. I had discovered that the Garrison was holding a bet on whether I would be swept up by Tommy or we'd fall out and I'd vanish like another girl, I hadn't found out who this other girl was but I was determined to find out. The betting was made worse by the hundred pound bet from Tommy for us getting together something he liked to use to wind me up.

"No he's in an awful mood I'd rather avoid him." I muttered making John and Finn cheer, they had bet that I would vanish and would often try to cause arguments just to get their money but Tommy had wised up rather quickly and would joke around with them.

"Well I'd go up in a second Poll and Tommy are talking it'll save him explaining everythin' twice." Esme offered, I nodded bitterly and dumped my jumper on one of the tables that was usually weighed down with coins and ascended the stairs I had just climbed down.

Poll and Tommy both turned quickly as if readying themselves for a fight but instantly relaxed a little when they saw it was me. Tommy finished explaining what to do in emergencies once he was done Poll left leaving me and Tommy alone. The room was filled with an awkward silence which was broken when Tommy started tipping bullets out onto his desk and finally decided to talk to me.

"You're still ignoring me? You know the bet at the Garrison's just a joke." Tommy muttered as he glanced at me, I shrugged and sat in the big chair behind his desk making him raise an eyebrow and began looking over his hat making sure the razor blades were stitched in properly. I sighed at Tommy's shoddy handy work as one slipped out onto the desk with a gentle clatter.

"Why's he coming?" I asked Tommy as I opened the top draw of his desk and fished out the strong string he used to keep his razors in place and began stitching them back into his hat.

"He's annoyed with us." Tommy's voice was gentle but there was a forced tone that told me I wasn't allowed to press the situation any more than I had. Once I was done I handed Tommy his cap and he inspected it closely, nodded and slid it carefully onto his head.

There was an awkwardness between us after that, if we had been closer I would have kissed him on the cheek and wished him luck, if we were on worse terms I would have shaken his hand but we were how we were, Something that seemed to puzzle Tommy and I over the short time I had known him, Poll's voice drifted up the stairs calling for Tommy who didn't seem ready to move.

"You'll be fine Tommy." I whispered, putting a hand on his arm. In one movement Tommy placed his hands on my hips, kissed me gently on the forehead and strode out of the room so quickly the only way I knew it had really happened was the tingling sensation on my forehead.

                                         **************************

"Girls. Last takings! We need to get to the boys, the fight didn't go too well." I looked up and saw the tall man that was engaged to Ada, I think his name was Freddie but I couldn't quite remember, so I nodded without addressing him and he quickly hurried to the back to tell Poll.

"Last takings." I yelled and soon heard Ada and Esme's voices echoing my own, most bookies didn't do a last takings they just stayed open till the queue had died down but this was something Tommy and Poll had put in place the staff knew that if the phrase last takings was shouted they had ten minutes to finish up and get to the Garrison for further orders from the Peaky Blinders unless they were told otherwise. I glanced to my left where Finn was struggling to write down the names of customers, my queue had died down so I told him to leave with Poll who was hurriedly shutting the doors stopping any new customers from coming in.

Once the bookies had emptied Poll told Esme to go home where John was being checked over after being hit rather hard in the face. Poll comforted Esme by telling her that Freddie said it was probably just a broken nose. Ada was sent with Freddie and Finn to check up on Arthur and some of the other Blinders, the men who were with us for the day were sent to check on everyone that was involved and to give them money towards medicine and doctors bills.

"We're going up to see Tommy." Was all Poll said once the doors were locked I nodded and followed the older woman up the stairs and handed her the key to the side door. Tommy was sat on the sofa with no shirt on nursing, a nasty looking cut across his ribs; Poll winced as she tried to look at the cut making Tommy hiss under his breath.

"Well your swearing like a trooper so it aint that fuckin bad." Poll muttered she glanced up at me and motioned for me to come over and started ordering me to get bowls and water. She told Tommy she'd be back with painkillers once she'd checked on the rest of her nephews and left me to clean up the wound and stitch Tommy up. I was sure I looked more nervous at the thought of poking Tommy with a needle than Tommy did.

He chuckled as I gently dabbed around the wound on his chest trying not to get to close to him and pulled me so I was stood between his legs, he lent to the side so I could reach the wound sucking air between his teeth as I pushed a little too hard just below the wound.

"I don't think I can do that." I said pointing and the needle and thread that Poll had left out for me. I looked at Tommy and found it difficult not to stare at the large wound that was most likely left from a bullet. Before I could stop myself I was tracing the star like scar making Tommy hum and drop his head back onto the back of the seat. Heavy footsteps made me jerk my hand away from him and Arthur stomped into the room fresh cuts that had clearly been cleaned covered his face and soon I was pushed aside so he and Poll who hurried into the room with some nasty smelling home remedy could stitch up Tommy's wound properly.

[crispy-chan]

carriwitchet ch.5

pairing | han jisung x reader, 3racha x reader genre/warnings | fluff, angst, high school au, slow burn, friends to lovers, love square word count | 3k  a/n | sorry for the long wait. I really have to be in the right headspace for thsi series but i'll try my best to update it more often from now on. also - this chapter is a lil bit sadder than usual. enjoy <3

my masterlist

CHAPTER 5

“Hello there N/n,” Changbin beamed as he ran towards you. (I trolled you all kekeke)

“Oh hi Bin,” you waved at him, as he tackled you into a bear hug. This wasn't unusual in your relationship, the both of you being quite affectionate people. However, the hug was getting a little too long, even for a person like you.

“Ugh, let go. I can’t breathe,” you groaned, patting his back.

After he finally let go of you, you got to have a proper look at him. He definitely dressed up for the occasion. He sported a crisp white button-down (that outlined his toned biceps) tucked into black ripped jeans and topped off the look with his signature high-end cap. Overall, he looked pretty damn handsome. Suddenly, you felt a bit underdressed in your cardigan.

Changbin turned around to find you staring. “Whatcha looking at?” he smirked cheekily.

You immediately blushed and swatted him away, turning around to pretend you were looking at the movie options. It was a stupid move since you guys have already agreed on the movie, but Changbin was thoughtful enough not to call you out on your bullshit.  

He must have sensed your discomfort though, because he leaned in and whispered in your ear, “you look really pretty today.”

You felt shivers run down your spine as he said that and felt a soft blush stain your cheeks. You pushed that thought out of your mind, focusing on securing a spot in the line so you could purchase your tickets.

Changbin looked amused at your antics but gracefully decided to drop it. Both of you approached the counter and asked for the tickets. You agreed on two back-row middle seats but argued for a while on who should pay.

“Stop being ridiculous Y/n, I'm taking you to the movies for your birthday so you're not gonna pay.”

“Oh come on, I can just pay for my own ticket,” you tried to protest but Changbin was already swiping his card on the terminal. 

“No. I'm paying and that's final.”

You wanted to further object but decided to drop it at the unamused expression of the part-timer behind the counter. You didn't want to be kicked out after all and the annoyed whispers of the people behind you led you to simply drop it.

You reached the minibar and started to roam over the menu. 

“Do you want to buy popcorn?” Changbin inquired, smiling at your apparent excitement.

“Of course. What's going to the movies without having popcorn?” you laughed as you stuck your hand in your pocket, struggling to pull out your wallet.

Changbin frowned at that, not liking that you wouldn't just let him pay so he put his hand over yours, halting your movements.

“Come on,” he whined, “just let me pay, ok? I invited you as a birthday present so the least I can do is actually pay for it.”

You groaned at that but finally agreed, albeit begrudgingly. Whiny Changbin was actually pretty cute. 

Wait for what?

“Fine but I'm paying next time, ok?”

Changbin just shot you a wink and a sing-songy “maybe,” as he went up to the counter and ordered one extra-large popcorn and two medium sodas.

He pulled out his wallet and took out his credit card before swiping it over the terminal. Damn, why did guys always look ten times more attractive when paying by card? That must have been surely the mystery of the century. After grabbing the order, he pulled you in the direction of where your movie was being played.

“So, are you scared?” he teased.

“Oh shut up Bin! I'm sure it can't be that bad, right?”

“Well good thing you've got me to protect you,” he chortled.

“In your dreams.”

“Which seats do we have again?” you asked while climbing up the stairs.

“Twenty-seven and eight,” he read from the tickets.

You finally got to your seats, placing the popcorn on the floor for a moment before shuffling around to sit properly, lifting the popcorn from the floor, and placing the sodas in the cup holders on the armrests.

“Don't forget to turn off your phone,” you reminded Changbin while pulling out your own to not disturb anyone.

“Your right, thanks.”

The lights in the room slowly dimmed as all the ads started to run. After about ten minutes, you were feeling a little tired as you absentmindedly leaned your head on Changbin's shoulder. The boy was startled at first but cracked a smile at your zoned-out expression. When the movie started, he gave you a light nudge to get you to focus on the screen.

You whipped your head up in surprise, your cheeks heating up at you slip up as you quickly sat back, eyes directly on the movie. Changbin internally chuckled at your flustered state, redirecting his gaze at the screen too. 

The movie was actually quite interesting, save for the occasional jumpscares that scared the shorts out of you. During one of the scenes, you could tell that the main character was walking straight into a trap and you really didn't want to witness it.

“Oh god, why is he going there?” you whined, “isn't it obvious that she's there and that she'll kill him.”

You couldn't stand it anymore, almost launching yourself onto Changbin's lap (while doing some gymnastics to get around the armrest in between you) as you pressed your head into his chest to drown out the movie completely.

“Why did I even agree to this in the first place?” you moaned, “I should have said no.”

Changbin had a hard time suppressing his chuckles at your adorableness. He'd never tell you this but he was actually glad whenever you snuggled up to him. At this rate, he was afraid though that the movie might be too much for you so he slightly nudged your shoulder.

“What?” you whispered, looking up at him with those big eyes. “Just that, you know - if it's too much, we can leave and go get ice cream or something,” he muttered, his palm going to brush some stray locks of your hair behind your ear.

You felt your heart skip a few beats at the gesture, choosing to snuggle back into his arm to avoid his intense gaze.

“I'm fine Bin, sorry for… sorry for acting like this. I should be fine now,” you smiled, moving away from him and sitting back in your seat. Embarrassment started to creep on you with how you just behaved. You hoped that Changbin didn't think you were too weird after this.

The rest of the movie went rather smoothly, none of the jump scares being nearly as frightening as the previous one. Changbin still did reach out to hold your hand whenever he sensed something even mildly alarming.

When the final credits rolled, the both of you started to pick up your stuff, heading out of the dim room while chatting about the movie.

“Look, I'm sorry for all that,” you started nervously, “but please don't tell anyone. I'd never live it down if they catch wind of it.”

He smirked at the display of you begging him like that but after seeing how worried you were, he decided to drop it.

“Don't worry N/n, I won't tell anybody. Besides, why would I share something as cute with the rest? This is now a thing between you and me only,” he smirked.

“Okok, that's enough,” you said firmly, not wanting to talk about it anymore, “let's go get something to eat.”

------

You entered the cozy cafe and took a seat near the window in a quiet corner. You scanned the menu, getting a little too immersed in choosing what you want as you completely zoned out when the waiter came to take your order.

“N/n,” Changbin flicked your forehead lightly to bring you back to earth. “What do you want to order?” he asked, pointing to the waiting part-timer who was slowly losing his patience.

“Oh. sorry, I'll have the latte and a matcha pudding, please,” you murmured, hoping the boy heard you. Luckily, he did as he scribbled down your order and briskly walked away.

You sighed, hating yourself for spacing out like that and making a fool of yourself. You were zoning out all day and you didn't know why. Maybe it was because of the movie - you were quite scared after all, no point denying that but you had this underlining feeling.

After finishing your drinks, Changbin walked you to the bus stop (insisting it was late already, and you shouldn't walk alone) and thanked you for coming with him.

“Seriously. Bin, stop,” you chuckled, “why are you thanking me? I should be thanking you. It was lovely, I didn't realize I needed this but I actually really did. I had lots of fun, and I hope you too.”

“Of course I had fun N/n. As long as I'm with you, I’ll always have fun,” he patted your head with a wink, shooting you the finger guns as he walked away.

You were still laughing about it as you got on the bus, his corniness proving to be really funny as always. You realized you actually missed some of his stupid jokes, the momentary separation between you two suddenly seeming way pettier.

You softly hummed the melody of For You. Again. But you just couldn't help it, the song had such a calming effect on you. It was your go-to song when you were stressed, anxious, or overwhelmed with school. And hey, who knows? Maybe there really are blessings waiting for you.

Getting off the bus, you walked the short walk home and rummaged for your keys. After stepping in, you made your way to the bathroom. You jumped in the shower, feeling ready to wash off all the sweat and lather yourself in that coconut body lotion.

------

On Monday morning, you walked into the school building, exhausted from just going up the few steps. You didn't get much sleep last night, opting for preparing for that chemistry exam even though it was on Thursday.

You see, chemistry was never exactly your forte. That's why you had mad respect for everybody that understood it, which was unironically about half of your friend group. Felix and Jisung were absolute chem and bio whizzes, making you wonder if they ate workbooks for breakfast. On top of that, Iris was also quite good which left only you, Mei, and sometimes Changbin to stick together

It was quite painful watching everyone understand the lecture and later not study at all, only for them to get a better grade than you, who had studied for three hours every day a week before the exam. You learned to suppress those feelings, not wanting to come off as rude, it wasn't their fault after all that you just couldn't beat those damn formulas into your head.

Chemistry today was especially hard, the teacher dividing you into pairs and handing you worksheets to complete with your partner. 

You were paired up with Changbin, who usually fared better than you but today, he was none the wiser.

“God damn, I have no clue how to do this,” he cursed under his breath, scanning the handout with visible distaste.

You laughed at his antics, going through your backpack to find your notebook. “Neither do I but I think we should manage with the help of my notes.”

“Yeah, your notes are a literal lifesaver, thanks.”

You plopped the notebook on the desk, opening it and turning the pages to find the needed material. 

With the help of your trusty notes, the two of you managed to complete the paper, even finishing before the bell rung and giving you some time to chat.

You left the classroom with a smile, feeling like you probably won't fail the next exam.

If you just put enough time into preparation, you could maybe even scrape an A. Today was Monday - that meant that you still had three days left to prepare. You studied for three hours yesterday, familiarizing yourself with the theoretical part of the topic. Now all that was left was to not forget it and go through the formulas to make sure you could build the proper equations.

Let's say you could cram in about two and a half hours of studying every day until Thursday. With that much dedication, you could likely do pretty well. While you were counting in your head and mentally planning out study sessions, Jisung ran up to you from behind and scared the shorts out of you.

“Wassup, N/n. Wanna hang out?” he put his arm around your shoulder and playfully nudged your side.

“No Jisung,” you threw his arm off, speeding in the direction of your locker, “sorry but not this week.”

When you saw his pouty face, you patted his hair and added, “the chemistry exam. I need to study as much as I can.”

“How come you didn't ask for help? I can tutor you if you want, I know how you despise chemistry.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I'll have to decline, Sung. I want to manage on my own.”

“I see,” he murmured, “that sounds a lot like you, actually,” he crinkled his nose and laughed. “See you tomorrow then.”

“Bye,” you waved at his retreating figure. Maybe you should have taken up on his offer. He was really good at chemistry, after all. You blinked, thinking about what would happen if you agreed, wouldn't do you any good. Plus, Jisung was a busy guy, he had a lot of things on his mind and you didn't want to bother him so it was better you declined.

You trudged your way home, entering your room and slamming the door shut. It was going to be a long day. Opening your notebook with a sigh, you started to go over the stuff for the n-th time. Oh, how you wished you were good at science. The stuff just didn't come easily to you and you had no idea why. You tried everything! All the methods there were but you could just never figure it out until you studied for hours. Maybe that's what you needed to do?  Just suck it up and study some more.

You were about to just do that but the sudden clang made you put down your notes for a second. And then you heard it. The beginnings of a loud argument that brewed between your parents almost every day. They always fought over the pettiest things like who put the dishes in the wrong place in the dishwasher? Who left their cup on the table? Where was the remote?

Whenever you heard someone raise their voice, you could feel your thoughts spiral down the deep end. It was like this trigger that sent your thoughts to this dark place. Blocking out the noise, you picked up your notebook and tried to concentrate on studying as to distract yourself. That's something you really needed at the moment.

At ten pm, you decided you had enough. Standing up to stretch your sore limbs, you threw on a pair of leggings and a t-shirt, not even bothering to brush your teeth as you made a dive for your bed.

It was a dreamless night.

------

The next morning, you practically moved on autopilot. Pulling on your clothes and shoving breakfast down your throat, you left the house without even bidding your parents goodbye. You ran to the bus stop and pulled out your headphones to listen to some music.

“Yeah I know, we know If it's you, you can do it, ayy Don't give up, oh no You persevered up until now What's the worry? Believe in yourself”

That helped a lot. It calmed your racing heart and gave you hope. You struggled with some pretty harsh thoughts and just bottled it up because you didn't feel like you had anyone to talk to. Listening to their songs provided at least a little comfort and let you somehow channel this stuff out of your system.

------

The day at school was pretty uneventful, you were only assigned an English essay and a few math equations. Nothing you couldn't handle.

It must have shown that you didn't sleep too well, many of your friends asking if you were okay at the sight of the black circles under your eyes. You bit back a sob and tried to patiently assure them with a fake smile that everything was indeed okay. That you just binged a Netflix show till four am and were tired.

They all bought it.

Except for Jisung. 

He watched you like a hawk for the entire day, being extra kind and doing little things for you here and there to better your mood. You appreciated his efforts, you really did but no amount of candies and encouraging little notes would make you forget the upcoming exam as well as the stress piling up on your shoulders.

After class, you skipped lunch and went straight to your locker so you could leave as soon as possible without anyone noticing you.

“Oh hey, Y/n. Wanna grab lunch together?” Changbin smiled at you before bending down to tie his shoelaces.

Shoot. You completely forgot that Changbin didn't have lunch in the canteen on Tuesdays. You racked your brain for possible excuses, before eventually settling on the lamest one. 

“Sorry, I have to study for chem. I'll probably just get something to go near my place.”

With an apologetic expression, you backed out of the hall, and almost ran to the exit with a quiet “bye” thrown in the confused boy's direction.

You ran down the cobblestone path, ignoring the grumbling of your stomach. When you told Changbin you'd get something near your place, you were lying. You figured there wasn't time to spare and you planned to invest every second possible into preparing for the exam. You knew it was wrong, to skip meals and lock yourself in your room for hours but you didn't know any better. Every time, you told yourself it was the last time you'd pull a stunt like that but as they say...old habits die hard.

[dreamylyfe-x]

Reactions: 11x06: Do Not Go Gently... (etc)

You know, I was going to do one of these for 11x05 and then I got so mad about the “Pollack” thing that I just couldn’t. 

Shameless is such a challenging show in so many ways... because there is a lot of cringe a lot of the time and I am a delicate flower about those things. But... I do love it and so much of its strengths at this point are the performers and just the length of time we have been with these characters. And sometimes you really see that, and sometimes you frustratingly don’t, but this episode was much more the former than the latter. 

I’m going talk about Carl right off the jump when I thought I was going to avoid talking about it at all because... not a topic I enjoy. If you don’t enjoy, I will keep it all in this bullet so it’s really skipable. I will see where I eventually land on it, because I am wary -- lots of bad consent on this show over the year and very little longterm exploration and all. But. I have seen a lot of sexual assault storylines over the years. I can’t readily remember if I’ve ever seen someone on a TV show have that moment where they feels weird, tell someone why, and get someone emphatically tell them that they’re right to feel weird, because they’ve been violated. That is something that is so common in life. I have unfortunately had more than one conversation with someone that took exactly that trajectory. There is so often this period of shock and uncertainty and people will then use that against people to demonstrate how they couldn’t POSSIBLY have been hurt. If they were going to tell a story about a sexual assault, I’m glad they did this -- something that they set up like “this is grey!” and then have Debbie say “It’s not grey. It’s a crime.” Weird to them basically SMASHCUT to a totally new topic but I will swing back around to that. 

I like Debbie best with Sandy so this was a rough one for me with her. 

Frank: WTF, why do I care about Frank’s story? They’ve set this up all season so it’s not a surprise, but... I dunno. Frank is awful. But he’s also an addict. And the thing I will always have empathy for on the topic of addiction is the way it can steal your life. What’s happening to Frank is scary and a direct result of an addiction which we have pretty much never seen him try to get out from under in any meaningful way. He has lost his life to it -- his potential, his relationships, his children -- and now he’s losing his mind. Just. Fuck. 

Speaking of: Lip. WTF are you doing? I feel like, by the end of the episode, they’d made it clear that Lip is acting out. That he’s angry and frustrated and it’s making him do stupid and destructive things that aren’t actually going to add up to ANYTHING good for him. Which... Kinda classic of Lip. But those moments where Mickey is looking at him and is the voice of reason ... I mean, I love that. But Lip. That’s not a great look for you. 

Once again, V’s story just sorta weird? Like active shooter drills being a replacement for gym class... Um.  Wait. What is this story about, exactly? Gun violence or school funding? Or both? What are we doing? 

Liam: Stop going to Carl with your problems. Christian: I love what you’re doing. Because boy do I feel Liam’s terror. And I’ll come back to that, too. 

Gallavich! It was a Gallavich story where the focus was on MICKEY. Just... Wow. I literally didn’t think that was going to be a thing this year. We love to see it. 

Mickey helping Lip rob Born Free... There are a lot of blanks in all of that, but he seemed quite integral to the operation, Ian clearly knew it was going down and Mickey seems to have primarily seen it as a way to do a thing for family. I love the Lip and Mickey relationship -- I love the history of it. I love that they’ve known each other since grade school and are completely different kinds of alphas. Lip has always had being the smartest in his back pocket, but Mickey often leaves him speechless by just being the most fearless. I love how there’s always been a bit of begrudging respect (and on Lip’s side, maybe a bit of sympathy) there and I love that the show let us have a moment where Mickey is going out to help Lip do crime and then coming back to the house with donuts for everybody. Just. Beyond my wildest dreams for season 11. 

Speaking of “beyond my wildest dreams” -- that there would be some decent level of complexity with Mickey and Terry. I think a lot of that complexity was left up to Noel to convey -- but that’s a choice they’re making and I think it’s the right one. I loved Ian observing that this was the most Mickey ever talked about Terry, because that seems true. It’s a little nod, too, to when Ian desperately WANTED Mickey to talk about Terry and the fact that Ian has, for years, accepted that Mickey won’t. It’s in character for Mickey not to want to SAY a lot about his dad, and it’s also just a true fact that the writers can give Noel a non-verbal moment (or five) and get us as the audience what we need to understand about where Mickey is at. And that’s history, too. Because we have watched Noel let the audience see Mickey’s heart through nothing but his facial expression for 10 of 11 seasons. 

One of those Milkoviches looks a lot like Jody, so that was weird. 

So one of my less popular Shameless opinions is that it makes sense that Mickey is involved with Terry in season 10. For many reasons I won’t get into here, but one of them is just that... people who have been abused by their parents do tend to have some kind of relationship with those parents. Most of that is just the fact that Terry -- while being absolutely horrific -- is still Mickey’s father. And Mickey clearly struggles to completely shrug that off. He struggles with it in seasons 3 and 4, and he struggles with it now. He understands that he has every right. But. Mickey isn’t Terry. And that’s going to make it harder for Mickey to completely shut that door. Since Mickey actually DOES have empathy. 

Ok -- everyone has and will say what I’m about to say, which is just: The scene on the couch was amazing. Being take care of is such a loaded issue for Ian. It was loaded enough that it broke them up in season 10. Ian might talk about being paralyzed, but he’s saying that knowing that he will have to rely on Mickey to take care of him sometimes. He knows Mickey knows that and he knows Mickey signed up for it. But it’s hard for him. I think Ian knows the answer to the question -- has to -- but he asks it to ground Mickey in the idea that they both have each other. Mickey isn’t going to end up like Terry. He isn’t going to be alone in his chair with every single member of his family satisfied to leave him on the curb in a hospital gown. 

To take a step back, this is also why I love the prior scene on the sidewalk, because that is a lot of how Ian takes care of Mickey. I reblogged Gallavictorious’s post yesterday that talked about an accusation that the fandom promotes the idea Mickey is supposed to solve Ian’s problems. This is the show helping her rebuttal, because my gut response to that idea was “where is Mickey now if Ian hadn’t shown up and loved him the way he did?” -- and that moment on the sidewalk is an example of how that still impacts Mickey. That’s what Mickey sticks around for. To have someone standing right in front of him when he wants to do something that will blow his life up just saying “Don’t.” Like how powerful is it for Mickey to have someone care like that? Mickey doesn’t want to talk. That’s not how he wants to receive love from Ian. But I think it’s incredibly valuable and important that Mickey has someone telling him he doesn’t need to give up his life to punish his father. That Terry isn’t worth it and that Mickey’s life IS. 

Back on the couch scene tip: How exhausted must Mickey BE at this point? He’s up all night helping Lip, then he’s driving with Ian all day. Just what a long 24 hours for this guy. 

I love that Ian doesn’t chase Mickey when he gets up. That he follows, but he doesn’t seem alarmed. He seems to understand they are past the gun-to-the-forehead part of this experience. 

I also love that Ian helps him. I’ve seen several people note that this is Ian observing Mickey’s boundaries and it is. But it’s also Ian pointing out that Mickey isn’t in this alone. 

It WAS big of Mickey, Ian. I fully agree. Far beyond the call. 

I think Ian’s been wanting to tell Mickey he’s better than that all day. But this was the moment where Mickey was most going to be able to hear it. 💕

Selling the house: Well, we are really getting to the “last season of Shameless” stuff. I get where Lip is coming from, when he looks at his options. I get Debbie’s reaction. I also understand, given Ian’s day, while he is IMMEDIATELY all in. I only have one question: WHAT ABOUT LIAM???? I’m already mad at all of you for not giving that kid a hug. 

But. I mean, overall? Literally wanted to see that much Terry/Mickey stuff for years. I never thought it would get here, so I’m happy. 

But oh my God. We’re halfway done. 😳

[ahopelessromantic]

Making Moves ➳ S. Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word count: 2,5k

Warnings: none, Spencer likes being called doctor but what else is new

Spencer and you have been floating around in your own bubble for a while now. Maybe it’s time to let other people in on it as well.

After a long day of lectures and studying, your shower’s steady stream of warm water felt heavenly. With a happy sigh you leaned further into the stream, when suddenly a pair of arms snuck around your naked waist. You jumped up in shock for a second, and only then remembered that you had given your boyfriend the spare key to your apartment. “Hi.” You giggled breathlessly, enjoying the feeling of his warm skin of yours. Instead of returning your greeting, Spencer just buried his head in the crook of your neck. “Long day?” While waiting for him to answer you reached back to play with his curls. “Hhm.” He groaned. “The worst.” It was only then that you decided to turn around, cupping his face in your hands to take a proper look at him. The shadows underneath his eyes looked darker and his cheekbones stood out even more than usual. You placed an innocent kiss on his lips. “Take as long as you need, I’ll go ahead and make us dinner, okay?”His eyes softened, and for a moment the tiredness in his face was gone. Spencer nodded and made room for you to leave the shower, but only after pressing a kiss to your hand.

“So, what you’re saying is that theoretically, a TARDIS is possible?” Spencer threw his head back in a laugh. “That’s not what I said!” You faked a pout, poking at his ribs. “Well, explain it to me then wonder boy!” The two of you were cuddled up on your tiny couch, a soft blanket thrown over you and a doctor who marathon playing on the tv. The only way you could both fit on the sofa was when you were basically laying on top of each other, but you couldn’t really find it in you to complain about that. Your boyfriend didn’t seem to mind, either. He slightly sat up and lifted your chin with his fingers, capturing your lips in a kiss that made your insides melt. “You still didn’t explain!” You mumbled into the kiss, coaxing another smile from his lips. In your living room’s dim lightning his eyes looked like honey and there was a warmth to them you didn’t get to witness every day. “Can you… shut up and let me kiss you?” He almost shyly asked, trapped between two of his favourite things in the world: geeking out without being judged for it and making out with his girlfriend. Today, he seemed to be in the mood for the latter.You hummed, leaning into him. “I can do that, I guess.”

Unfortunately, evenings like these weren’t the standard for the two of you. Spencer worked an incredibly demanding job, and even though your university didn’t send you to crime scenes with a gun strapped to your hip it still wasn’t exactly easy, either. You were a law student, in the middle of specialising on criminal law to hopefully one day go into law enforcement. It was only ironic that your own boyfriend had turned out to be an FBI-Agent a few dates in. But then again, you were a firm believer that everything happened for a reason. You had walked into that bar during orientation week last year for a reason, and the first thing your eyes had fallen upon had been Spencer for a reason.

“I bet I can destroy you in that game.” You had boldly told the handsome stranger while sitting down across from him. He had looked at you in confusion for a moment, his mouth slightly open, but then seemed to catch himself. “That is highly unlikely.” He had stated, is if it were a fact. You had looked him directly in the eyes, encouraged by the gin tonic coursing through your veins. “Let’s find out, shall we?” Somehow, one round of rummy had turned into four, and somehow, you had actually managed to win two times, one of which with a glorious full house. At some point the conversation between you two had began to flow freely, and you could still remember feeling so incredibly fascinated over everything this man had said. Something about his way of speaking, the way he chose his words, the intelligence in his eyes, had pulled you in to a point of no return. You had kissed him on the cheek that very night, not knowing how else to thank him for walking you home. He had even insisted on it, not expecting the short walk to your apartment off campus to turn into a full-blown mini hike. Afterwards the two of you had stood in front of your door, his cheeks red and his hands inexplicably trembling. Spencer had later told you that he had never felt the way he had felt around you before, and that in that moment his biggest fear had been to never see you again. But even though you had exchanged numbers before saying goodbye you had run into each other again much, much earlier than expected. The very next morning, to be precise. When you had innocently walked into your forensic linguistics elective class and met eyes with one certain Doctor Spencer Reid, the day’s guest lecturer.

“Maybe if you didn’t drink so much coffee and ate more breakfast you wouldn’t basically pass out whenever I take you running with me.” You playfully scolded your boyfriend the next morning, shoving a croissant in his direction. He barely even looked up from his notes, blindly reaching for the piece of pastry. After breakfast you watched him getting ready for work. Spencer long had his own drawer of clothes in your apartment, his own ties and jackets hanging in your closet. The transition from barely sleeping at each other’s places to basically living with each other had happened so slowly and naturally that one day you had just woken up in his arms and decided that neither of you wanted it any other way anymore. You were probably once and for all going to officially move in with each other soon as well, but before you did that you still needed to sort out some things in your relationship. “Let me help you, Doctor Reid.” You smiled seductively after seeing him struggle with the knot of his tie. He chuckled nervously, a slight blush blooming over his cheeks. “Honey, you know I’m trying to get going to work, not get going in another way.” Smiling, you pressed a kiss to his nose. “Whatever, Doctor Reid.” Behind closed doors you loved teasing him, riling him up just to see him get all smiley and flustered. You had been in love before, but in comparison to the way you felt about Spencer all the ones that had been there before him faded into a dull grey. A part of you was convinced that you had been in love with someone before but had never really loved them. In a way, you liked to think of Spencer as your first and hopefully last love. Trying to seize every moment you had with him you even accompanied him to your door, childishly trying to keep him from leaving by placing kisses all over his face. “Baby, I have to go.” Your rational side knew he was right, but it was very hard to let that side come to light when your emotional side was looking at Spencer with an empty head and heart eyes. “I love you.” He murmured and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. You beamed at him. “I love you more. I’ll see you later in your lecture?” He nodded, and with one last kiss he was out the door.

Technically, you had long collected all the credits you could in forensic linguistics. But that didn’t stop you from still visiting your boyfriend whenever he guest lectured for a friend, silently giving him the support he was always so grateful for. Knowing you were there in the audience always gave him an insane boost in confidence, up to a point where now a whole group of girls in the class swooned over him on the regular. You loved telling him about them and loved even more how shy he got over it, forever trying to help him feel surer of himself and his skills.

“JJ, you got something to do right now?” Morgan asked with a grin, leaning over her desk. “Loads. Why?” She asked with a suspicious tone to her voice. “We want to go visit pretty boy at his lecture, see how he does as a professor. Even Hotch is coming.” With a heavy sigh, JJ closed the file she had been looking into. Goddamnit, if she wasn’t interested in seeing Reid in action. “Let’s go.” She just said, getting up to join the rest of the team in the bullpen. They all carpooled to the lecture hall, surprised over how many people and especially girls were there in the audience to watch Reid. “Looks like Reid’s got some fans.” Hotch murmured, the tiniest of smiles playing around his lips.

At the end of the lecture you packed your things and walked up to Spencer, politely waiting for the people in front of you to finish asking their questions. You noticed the way your boyfriend’s glance kept on distractedly landing on you only to refocus on his students again and couldn’t help the smile on your face. What were you supposed to do? You loved him, after all. “Doctor Reid.” You finally greeted him once he was done answering questions. He visibly straightened up upon hearing his title, giving you a contained smile. Even though you weren’t technically his student the two of you still preferred to not openly flaunt your relationship on campus, just to avoid getting into any form of trouble. “Did you like today’s lecture, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” He asked while shoving his things into the old leather satchel he always carried with him. You grinned. “I loved it. But it was terribly difficult to concentrate today.” Spencer just nodded in mocked thoughtfulness. “And why is that?”

Looking at the two of you from afar must have just looked like an overly nice student asking her professor some questions, but something about the way Reid smiled at this girl set something off in Morgan. The usually so awkward genius seemed oddly comfortable around the pretty girl standing in front of him, something that didn’t really happen often. Never, actually, now that he thought of it. “Guys, do you think that’s his girlfriend?” He hushed. The rest of his team whipped their heads around to look at him. “His what?!” Emily asked. “Come on, think about it. We’ve all noticed that he’s been feeling himself more than usual lately. He even comes into work looking well rested sometimes, when has that ever happened before?” Garcia’s chin dropped in realisation. “I saw him drive the opposite way of his apartment after work sometimes. I just thought he’s taking a detour or something…” Before any of them could continue to speculate about Spencer Reid’s private life, Morgan had already made his way down the stairs to the lecturer’s podium.

“Hi, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Derek Morgan.” A handsome tall man suddenly interrupted yours and Spencer’s banter. You took his hand in confusion, looking over to your boyfriend for an answer to this situation. He just stood there frozen in place, eyes wandering between you and the stranger. So, he did know the man? “I’m (Y/N).” You hesitantly introduced yourself. That seemed to shake Spencer out of his stupor.“(Y/N), this is Morgan, part of the team at the BAU. Morgan, this is (Y/N), my uh…” He took a deep breath. “My girlfriend.” A wide grin spread across his colleague’s face, and a bright blush across yours. “I knew it!” He chuckled, clapping a hand against Spencer’s shoulder. “It is so nice to meet you.”

After that the rest of his team suddenly joined the three of you at the bottom of the stairs, attacking you with questions about their ‘pretty boy’. You set yourself a mental reminder to tease him about that later. “I hope you know that it’s our obligation to take the two of you to lunch now.” The extravagantly dressed woman that had introduced herself to you as Penelope told you determinedly. You grinned, your glance landing on Spencer. He looked like he had accepted his fate already and returned your gaze defeatedly. You had known that his team was close, a bond forged through danger and long nights of working on cases together, but you frankly hadn’t expected a bunch of professional fbi agents to be this close and warm.

“So, how did the two of you meet?” JJ, who was sitting across from you in the small Italian restaurant asked while cutting her saltimbocca romana. You looked down at your spaghetti shyly, feeling your ears grow hot under all the attention that was on you ever since Spencer’s team had basically ambushed the two of you. “I, uh… I tipsily thought I could beat him in rummy.” Morgan started laughing incredulously. “Okay, you’ve got balls. I respect that. Did he at least let you win once?” “I didn’t need to.” Spencer suddenly spoke up, slowly warming up to the situation. He liked how somehow, you seemed to fit right in with his team, and couldn’t help but wonder what it was going to be like when you one day joined the fbi yourself. “She won. Twice. One of which with the meanest full house I’ve ever seen.” His eyes met yours, and the look of respect and pure love in them made you feel all warm on the inside. A round of ‘oohs’ went through the team assembled around the table. From there on the ice seemed to be once and for all broken, and the more time passed the more comfortably you started sinking into your seat. You felt like maybe, this had been that one last step you had needed to go all the way in your relationship. Watching Spencer letting his guard down around his team, seeing him so happy around the people he loved, gave you an idea. You secretly started looking through your bag for a pen, scribbling a tiny note onto your napkin and shoving it to where he was sitting across from you. He didn’t even notice it at first, he only saw it laying in front of him after you shoved your foot against his under the table. You watched him read it in nervous anticipation, taking in the way his expression changed from confused to shocked to… happy? He leaned over the table to snatch the pen from you with a tiny smile, scribbled something onto the napkin and handed it back to you while mouthing ‘I love you’. With a beating heart you unfolded the note and felt the tiniest amount of happy tears prick at your eyes.

Move in with me?

Stood there in your writing, and underneath that in his:

Yes :)

[crobby]

i’ve got your back

for @broskepol

summary: peter and tony have a phrase they use whenever peter’s in danger and can’t outright say it. they have to use it more often than either would like.

word count: 2767

The bell signaling the end of the school day is a wonderful sound to Peter, who’s been practically dying to go out as Spider-Man since third period. He takes up a brisk walk, trying to make it outside as quickly as possible without full-on sprinting.

“Hey, Peter,” Betty calls out, jogging through the hall to catch up with him.

Peter waits for her, eyeing the clock on the wall. “What’s up?”

“There’s a party at Flash’s house this weekend and he told me I could invite whoever I want, so I’m inviting you. Do you wanna come?” 

Peter hesitates. “You know that Flash kind of hates me, right?”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Betty says, flicking her hand.

Peter narrows his eyes. “Penis Parker ring a bell?”

“Okay,” she concedes, “Maybe you’re not his favorite person. But I still think you should come. It’ll be fun! Also, I doubt you’ll even have to talk to him--a ton of people will be there, so you can totally avoid him.”

“I… guess?” Peter rubs the back of his neck. He’s not really sure why Betty’s so insistent that he be there. He thinks it might be her way of trying to become his friend, which he’s definitely okay with. Having friends is nice. 

He shrugs. “Why not? I’ll be there. Text me the deets, yeah?”

Betty grins. “For sure! I’ll see you there!” She turns to walk back down the hall, waving at him.

Peter smiles to himself. Huh, he thinks, a party. I got invited to a party. Maybe his social life isn’t so doomed, after all.

---

Nope, his social life is forever doomed. He can’t just be normal and talk to people. It’s like the universe singled him out and said “You! You’re going to be a loser!” and, frankly, he’s tired of it. He wishes Ned or MJ were here, but Ned’s babysitting his baby cousin and MJ’s out of town. If they were here, he wouldn’t be struggling so much.

There’s music blaring and lights flashing and both are too much for his enhanced senses. There’s so much kinetic energy in the room that Peter can almost feel it. It’s hot. He’s schvitzing. He doesn’t like to schvitz.

He’s just about to call it quits and head home when he hears Flash’s voice above everything else.

“Hey, Parker!” Flash comes to stand in front of him.

Peter groans. “What, Flash?”

“Have you ever played a drinking game?”

Peter furrows his brow. “No, of course not. I’m underage.”

“So? That doesn’t stop, like, every other teenager.”

“I don’t know, Flash…”

“Come on! It’ll be fun. This is an olive branch, man. You gonna take it?”

Flash must be tipsy, already, if he’s trying to play nice with Peter. He’s pretty sure Flash is joking about the ‘olive branch’ thing, but still.

“You should loosen up,” Flash says, “Learn to live a little.”

“I--” Peter starts to object. Then, “Alright. I’ll do it. What’s the game?”

“It’s called Fuzzy Duck.”

“Fuzzy Duck?” Peter laughs. “Come on.”

“No, really! I’ll explain it when everyone’s listening.”

Flash leads him back to a corner full of couches. A bunch of people are already there, some Peter recognizes and others he doesn’t.

Flash takes a seat in the middle of the biggest couch, while Peter perches on the arm of another couch next to some people he’s pretty sure are in his trig class.

“Okay, so we’ve got to get in a circle--which, we already are--and I’ll start by saying ‘fuzzy duck’ to the person to my left. It’ll keep going like that, saying ‘fuzzy duck’ to the person to your left, until someone says ‘does he’. Then, the person to the right of that person has to say ‘ducky fuzz’ and then it’ll keep going in that direction--to the right--with people saying ‘ducky fuzz’ until someone says ‘does he’ again. At that point, the direction switches again and people go back to saying ‘fuzzy duck’ until the next time someone says ‘does he’ again. It’ll just go back and forth like that. Anytime anyone messes up whatever they’re supposed to say, they have to drink.”

There are a few vaguely confused nods.

“It’ll make sense when we get into it,” Flash assures them.

He turns to the girl to his left, “Fuzzy duck,” he says, entirely seriously.

She turns to the girl next to her. “Fuzzy duck.”

Eventually--and after many mess-ups and subsequent drinks--they reach Peter, who, in true idiot fashion, blurts: “Duzzy fuck.”

Everyone’s laughter ringing in his ears, he downs a gulp of whatever Flash handed him. He smacks his lips, unused to the bitter taste of alcohol. As the game continues--and Peter drinks more--he feels his throat get warm and his brain go fuzzy. Fuzzy, like the ducks, he thinks. 

At least he isn’t such a nervous wreck anymore--he hasn’t felt so relaxed in a long time. He doesn’t even think before saying things, which is wild. 

He jumps when Iron Man by Black Sabbath starts blasting out of his back pocket. He scrambles to grab his phone, recognizing the ringtone. More specifically, who it belongs to. Mr. Stark shines up at him, along with a photo he and Tony had taken the day they made his internship official. 

Peter brings the phone up to his ear, the noise of the party loud in the background. “Uhh, hey, Mr. St’rk.” Woah, since when are his words so slurred?

Tony doesn’t seem to notice. “Hey kid, I was just calling to see if you wanted to bring the suit by tomorrow. I’ve got something I wanna try out. Happy can pick you up from May’s.” 

“That--that’d be great, Mr. St’rk.”

People are starting to look at him, wondering who on Earth he’s calling ‘Mr. Stark’. Peter would very much like to go home now, thanks. Drinking’s not so fun when you have to make normal conversation with your mentor/father figure/it’s complicated guy in front of a crowd. 

“Are you good, Pete? It sounds like there’s a lot going on over there. Are you at a party?”

“Pshhhh, no. Are you at a party?”

“Why would I be at a--”

Peter cuts him off. “Have you ever seen Star Wars?”

“You know I have. What’s going on with you, Peter? Is everything alright?”

“D’you remember when the Starfleet came to help the rebels in episode 5?”

“Okay, you’d never mix up Star Wars and Star Trek. That’s it, I’m coming to get you. FRIDAY, what’s his location?” 

Peter hears FRIDAY give Tony Flash’s address in the background, extremely grateful that Tony realized something was up. He didn’t want to outright say anything--he’s trying to get these people to like him, not think he’s some kind of weirdo who needs to be picked up early from a high school party.

A few minutes later, Peter receives a text from Tony.

I’m here.

Peter quickly stands up and immediately regrets it when his vision swims. He takes a second to get his head on straight before stepping back from the circle. “Thanks for the party, Flash. I’ve gotta jet,” He gestures towards the door with his thumb before taking off. Well, he staggers towards the door more than anything, still figuring out how to actually do things while under the influence.

Tony’s standing next to one of his Audis when Peter finally makes his way outside, leaning against it with a concerned frown on his face. He stands up straight when he sees Peter, making a beeline towards him and checking him for injuries. Peter lets him, knowing that Tony will calm down if he sees for himself that Peter’s unharmed. Tony nods to himself, seemingly satisfied with Peter’s lack of injuries, before pulling him into a tight hug. Smushed against Tony’s chest, Peter smiles. Peter knows that Tony cares about him, but it’s still nice to get a physical reminder of that fact. Tony pulls back, keeping his hands on Peter’s shoulders. 

“What happened?”

“Well, I--”

“You smell like alcohol,” Tony interrupts, “Why do you smell like alcohol?”

Peter shoots him a pair of finger-guns. “That might be all the alcohol I drank.”

Tony sighs. “Let’s get you home, yeah? We can talk about this when you’re sober.”

Peter looks down. “Are you mad?”

“No, I’m not mad. Believe me,” Tony offers him a half-smile, “I get it. But it’s still something we need to talk about. You, me, and May.”

“‘Kay,”

Tony leads him to the car, keeping a hand on his shoulder. Throughout the whole drive back to the apartment, he keeps checking up on Peter through the rear-view mirror. He tries to start some idle conversation but drops it when he realizes that Peter’s too worn out to be all that interested in responding.

They pull up to the curb outside of the apartment building and Tony helps Peter up to his apartment, one arm around his shoulders. He uses his free arm to knock on the door. 

May answers. “Tony? What’re you doing here? It’s really late.” In her tired state, she fails to notice Peter until Tony gestures to him. “Aw, hon, what’s wrong?”

Peter slides out from under Tony’s grip to fall into her arms. She immediately grasps him in a hug, mouthing Is he okay? to Tony, who mimes drinking. May nods in understanding, mouthing Thank you.

Tony smiles. “I’m gonna get out of your hair. The kiddo needs a good night’s sleep.”

“G’night, Mr. St’rk,” Peter says, his voice muffled.

Tony looks at him fondly, his eyes soft. “Goodnight, Pete. You, too, May.”

Peter hums before falling asleep on May’s shoulder.

---

Months later, Peter’s briskly walking out of school again. This time, his interruption is a chloroform towel pressed against his mouth, rather than a (un?)friendly invite to a party. He drops like a sack of bricks into the arms of a man, out cold.

---

Peter wakes up in an abandoned warehouse, his arms tied up above his head and his limbs aching. He presses his wrists against their bindings, sure that he could easily break through them if he tried. He can’t, though, because that would reveal his identity--or, at least, the fact that he has super-strength. He’ll do it if he has to--but not until he knows there’s no other option. 

He hears two sets of footfalls coming from behind the door across the room.

A man and a woman enter through the door, both wearing a bandana over their nose and mouth. They stop in front of Peter. 

The woman crosses her arms. “We want information. You’re going to give it to us.”

Peter stares, eyebrows raised. 

“We’re replicating the arc rector,” she says, “We’ve almost got it, but there’s something missing. You intern for Stark. We know you’ll know.” She dives into an explanation of their design and what went wrong. At the end of her speech, she looks at Peter expectantly.

Peter frowns. “I don’t know, actually.”

The woman slaps him across the face. His head jerks at the motion, his cheek stinging.

“This isn’t how I wanted this evening to go,” she says, “You were supposed to tell us everything. You will tell us everything.” She exits the room, returning with a large case.

She places it on a table and opens it to reveal a collection of knives and such. 

Peter doesn’t like the way this is going.

She runs her hand over the many knives. “Will you tell us what we want to know, now?”

Peter tries to think of a way for him to get out of here without revealing his identity, but he falls up short. It looks like he might have to kiss his anonymity goodbye. 

He’s mentally preparing himself to break his restraints and fight his way out of the warehouse when a phone rings loudly.

The sound is coming from the man’s pocket. He pulls the phone out. Peter recognizes his case. Since when do they have his phone? He guesses they took it when they grabbed him.

“It’s for you,” the man grunts. Peter can’t help but think that he sounds like he gargled cement. “No caller ID.”

The woman tilts her head. “Let him answer.”

The man lodges the phone in between Peter’s raised shoulder and his head before stepping back.

“Hey, Pete, you’re in a weird location. Just calling to check up on you--made sure there was no caller ID, just in case you’re with someone. Is everything alright?”

Peter glances up at his kidnappers, who are glaring at him. He can’t say anything that implies that he’s not alright unless he wants them to hurt him.

“Oh yeah, everything’s fine. I was actually just thinking about.... uh,” he thinks back to the party when he was in a similar situation where he couldn’t say anything outright, “Star Wars. D’you remember when the Starfleet came to help the rebels in, uh, episode 5?”

Tony pauses. “Wait, so you are in trouble?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

Tony’s voice sounds strained. “I’ve got your location. Sit tight, I’m coming to get you.”

Peter tries not to slump over in relief, because that would definitely alert his kidnappers. “That’s good.”

“Yeah, it is.” Peter hears the Iron Man suit power-up in the background.

“Okay, that’s enough,” the woman snatches the phone out of Peter’s hand and ends the call. She drops it just out of Peter’s reach.

Peter purses his lips. As Spider-Man, he’d make a quip and get out of here without Tony’s help. As Peter Parker, though? He can’t bring himself to say or do much of anything. It’s different, being in this situation without the mask. Normally, he’d have it handled in no time. Now, though, everything just feels… different. Off. He feels stuck.

The woman takes a step towards him. “I’m only going to ask you this one more time: what’s the secret? We’ve got it all figured out, except for one part. You know what’s missing--I know you do--so you better tell us before I bring out the big guns.” She gestures to the case.

Those aren’t guns, Peter thinks, those are knives. “I don’t know. I don’t work on arc reactors. I’m an intern, I bring people coffee.”

The woman scoffs. “Stark wouldn’t hire a high school intern unless you were something special. Tell us, or so help me God I will make you.” She picks up a thick knife and brandishes it threateningly. 

Peter’s heart rate skyrockets. Then, he hears the sound of repulsors.

Tony smashes through a wall, terrifying Peter’s kidnappers. Peter grins in relief.

“Really guys?” Tony says, his voice robotic through the suit, “You thought you could steal my kid and get away with it?” He flies over to grab Peter, who snaps the restraints like they're rubber bands. Tony picks him up around the armpits. “Have a terrible night,” he says before shooting into the night.

Peter looks up at him. “Mr. Stark, won’t they get away?”

“The police are almost there. They won’t make it out in time. How are you? Any injuries?”

“I’m all good--nothing worse than I get on patrol, anyway. I’m really glad you called, ‘cause I thought I was gonna have to reveal my identity for a second there.”

“I’m glad you’re okay. Where am I bringing you? Home?”

“Yeah, home sounds nice.”

Tony flies him to his apartment building, letting him down gently before retracting the suit. He gestures for Peter to start heading inside. 

They make their way up the stairs and knock on the door. May opens it, rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

She looks up at them and balks. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Minor kidnapping, nothing too serious,” Tony jokes.

May smacks him on the arm, “That’s not something to laugh about.” She pulls them both into a bone-crushing hug. “Thank you for saving him.”

She pulls back to smack Peter’s arm. “And you! Why didn’t you save yourself? What’s the point of those spider powers if you don’t use them?”

Peter shrugs. “Secret identity.”

May considers it. “Okay, that’s a valid reason.”

She pulls them both into another hug. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

Peter lets himself melt into the embrace, always happy to be with both of his adults. “Can we watch Star Wars?”

May and Tony share a fond look.

“Of course,” she says.

And if the three of them stay up all night binge-watching every Star Wars movie, no one has to know.

[soft-hard-peaches]

Reaction: Going Shopping with Ateez

note: I really miss going out grocery shopping and going out to the mall but I've gotten so paranoid becuz of the pandemic that i barely want to go across the street or see my friends. So writing this was kinda therapeutic in a sense. I hope you enjoy and fill free to send a request.

~ lots of fluff~ ~a little bit suggestive~

Kim Hongjoong

The ambient music and fluorescent lights really make you lose track of time while shopping. Not to mention the fact that you both have been almost aimlessly walking around the store looking for the perfect accent piece for your new apartment. Hongjoong is happy that you chose him for this errand instead of your roommate because you trust his fashion sense and taste in accessories. Not to mention your roommate's disinterest in "accent pieces". He's usually pretty busy in the studio or with the group getting ready for oncoming promotions, so he cherishes any time he gets to be with you.

"What about this?", he finally spots the perfect piece for you. A three mirror set hanging on a chain secured to the wall by a rounded, bronze knob. "Wow babe, this is really pretty. I can hang this in the doorway or maybe the hallway.", you respond as he gazes at your lit up expression, at awe of its simplicity. He loves your radiant smile and the twinkle in your eyes when you're happy. Moments like this makes him glad that you're together.

Park Seonghwa

Seonghwa loves the whole cute, fashionable, ulzzang-esque couple look. I mean even if he wasn't an idol, he'd still be taking super aesthetic café photos. So he was more than thrilled when you suggested going shopping for couple outfits. He loved the thought of you two going on dates with similar matching looks even if his group pokes fun of his "couples goals".

When you brought him to the mall he only thought you wanted to dress alike but boy was he surprised when you took him to your favorite makeup store you get his face made up to mimic yours.

It's not that he was against wearing makeup or anything of course but this was more than he bargained for. But at last, he loved the glee in your eyes and complied to your whim.

After your finishing touches of rhinestones under his eyes you are shocked by your discovery, "Wow...why do you look better than me, hun?"

Equally surprised by his reflection, he states, "Baeb... I make us look good I guess", with a cheeky smile, making you shove his shoulder with a shocked laugh. You wrapped your arms around him, planting a kiss on the back of his head, then went off to pay for the products you used. Seonghwa walks up to you to hold your bag of makeup, happy he made you happy.

Jeong Yunho

There are two things Yunho holds dear to him; spending time with you and food, so when you asked him if he wanted to go grocery shopping, he jumped at the opportunity. Especially since there's a 50/50 chance that you'll cook him something later. And he doesn't hide that fact either.

"Y/n, is cheese on the list? How about pepperoni? What kind of sauce do you have at home?"

"Yunho if you want pizza you can just ask?", you laugh as you carry on walking ahead of him, placing the groceries you actually need for the week in the basket.

Kang Yeosang

"Let's buy some cake please!", Yeosang danced and sang in aegyo. He knows shopping with you means he can temp your sweet tooth with his almost too nature cutesy attitude and more often than not he succeeds. In all honesty, he loves to make you blush and as shy as he is, he likes to do it in public. "Yeosang stahp...", you whine as you scan the yellow peppers to avoid looking at him.

Sensing you're trying to evade his moves, he pulls out the big guns in a last ditch effort to get his way. "Y/n...", Yeosang lowered his voice from cute and sweet to low and velvety as he wraps his arms around your waist, slowly pulling your body towards him, whispering in your ear, "Let's have some desert tonight, yeah? I know you want something sweet?"

His voice sends chills down your body in contrast to his warmth surrounding you. "Ugh f-fine, Love. Go get cake.", you stutter to him almost buckling in his grasp. He smiled coyly, knowing you would say yes and snakes the little pastry he was hiding nearby and place it in the cart.

"Love you, honey." <3

Choi San

San loves grocery shopping with you. He loves the purity and domesticity of picking out bread and eggs or standing in the bread aisle, having you explain to him the difference between jelly, jam, and preserves. He takes note of all the small things you like for example, you prefer preserves because they taste the most like the fruit.

Sometimes he even grabs his own cart to shop for snacks you'd like. "Y/n, what kind of chocolate do you like? Dark, milk, or white?"

"Milk usually, why?", you ask from the aisle behind, scouring for your favorite chips.

He swipes a few milk chocolate bars and places it in his cart, nonchalantly dismissing your question and walking back to you.

"Babe, did you know white chocolate is actually a bi-product of chocolate?", you say beaming as you link up with him, making him smile.

Song Mingi

Was once a mundane chore, turned into a fun mini date with your loveable, goofy boyfriend, Mingi. He will never let you be bored or sad when with him. If he's not dancing around the aisle with food in his hands making you laugh, he's pushing you on the cart like any mature adult couple would do to bond.

Admittedly, he knows how stressed you've been from school, work, and your personal life, so he wants to make you smile as much as possible. If all else fails, he wants you to feel like you can feel good around him, even if you're simply shopping for eggs and milk.

"Y/n, Y/n look! Ain't I the sweetest thing in the store? Wanna bite?", he suggests as he plays with some random product, making you giggle.

Jung Wooyoung

Wooyoung takes every outing as a date. Even if you're just shopping for art supplies. Whatever you do he acts like a curious puppy. He loves your interests and loves when you incorporate him in it like he does when he teaches you dances. He follows you, holding the basket as you read out the materials you need for your next project.

Poor Woo's jaw dropped when you turned to find some paint brushes, "Woah... Why are there so many types of brushes?"

You giggled at his expression, fully understanding his struggle. You wondered the same when you first started painting. It was a bit overwhelming at first, so you explained simply that different brushes have different bristles, shape, and points for different applications. He's always in awe at your skills and knowledge, truly loving how passionate you are about your craft.

Choi Jongho

Jongho loves you in all but he hates shopping. Not just with you but shopping in general. But since he's dating someone as indecisive as you are, that's just an added con. The monotony of walking around, looking at things you may not buy, the back and forth to the dressing rooms. It all tires him out fairly quick. But he is understanding of you and why you're so indecisive. He thinks you're beautiful in anything you pick out. And he tells you so whenever you show him an outfit you're considering. "You're stunning, baby girl."

"But you always say that", you nag at him.

He hates that you are insecure and will do anything to make you feel better. "Baby, how about you pick out anything. Big or small and I'll buy it for you.", he says placing his hands on your hips.

"How about the whole store?", you looked up at him smiling.

"Ring it up.", he replies, placing a kiss on your forehead, “I’ll buy you the world if it makes you happy.

[nalgenewhore]

With My Life - Chapter Two

masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter

warnings:  (all graphic) violence, gun violence, blood, smut, implied PTSD

Elide slept fitfully for a couple hours more after Lorcan left. After ten minutes of hiding from the sun by burying her face in his pillow and switching positions every thirty seconds, Elide decided to accept the fact that she wouldn’t fall back to sleep and there was nothing she could do about it. 

With a sigh, Elide got up and padded over to his closet, swapping his black dress shirt for a pair of sweats that practically drowned her and one of his old hoodies. She walked over to the dresser he kept, opened the top drawer that she had slowly begun to take over and grabbed her tortoise shell hair clamp to twist her short but thick hair and clip it back. 

Then, she walked out of his room, out the short hallway before she got to the top of the stairs, which were located beside the windows that went from the floor to the ceiling of his second floor. Elide stepped down the stairs, her hand resting elegantly on the railing. 

Elide sighed again and rubbed her eyes as she walked into his pristine, state of the art kitchen. 

She looked out the wall of floor to ceiling windows, wondering where in the city Lorcan’s clients would take him today as she filled up the kettle in the sink. 

After putting it on the stove and turning the burner on, Elide picked up the remote control and turned on the big, sleek flatscreen. A voice in the back of her mind reminded her the revisions for her thesis weren’t done yet. Elide scowled as she flipped through the channels and landed on a rerun of a baking show. 

Reasoning with herself, she decided to take the day off. Between the extra class load undergrad psych courses she’d agreed to teach and research for her graduate degree, as well as spending more and more time with Lorcan… she deserved a break. 

Taking the day off would give her time to think about them. And about dinner. 

Elide thought about their relationship as she fixed herself a cup of tea. Being with Lorcan was simple. Not at all serious, just some harmless fun, but still, quite possibly her most valued relationship nonetheless. 

There were times, so many gods-damned times when she wanted more. And thought that he felt that way, too. 

Like when their intimate activities were done for the night, when they both passed out where they dropped onto the sheets, Lorcan would search the king-sized mattress until he could pull her close against him. In all the nights she had spent with him, Elide had not once fallen asleep without his arms around her. Or when he had had a hard day, he would call her in the middle of the night - when he knew she was still up working tirelessly on her degree - just to hear her talk and ramble about whatever she’d learned that day. 

He listened to her like… he loved her, like she loved him. 

He trusted her with his life and he wanted to talk to her. What else could he have to say, right? 

Elide had a distinct feeling that everything as they knew it would change today.

+*+*+*+*+*+* 

Get in. 

Get the list. 

Get out. 

Lorcan repeated it like a mantra as he moved through the seemingly abandoned building like a shadow. He breathed calmly, keeping his nerves in check. It’s just another work day, keeping it together, he told himself, schooling himself into detached neutrality as he continued through the house. 

Methodically, he checked every room he passed, toeing the door open and stepping in, smoothly pointing his gun and checking every inch of space before moving on. 

He listened intently, his ears nearly twitching with every sound besides his own breathing and steady steps. 

The radio in his ear crackled to life, “Upstairs, second door on the right.” Connall and the team at headquarters had been tracking the computer - the one that held Erawan’s list of suppliers and dealers - for months and it would finally come to an end today. 

The house around him remained eerily quiet, but Lorcan shook it off as his own tension as he moved up the stairs, studying them briefly and avoiding places he knew would creak too loudly. 

Like the good spy, like the good little soldier he was years ago, Lorcan checked the first rooms first, then the one opposite the room the computer was in. Nobody was there. 

And just when he was thinking the gods hadn’t forsaken him again, Lorcan walked into the second room on the right and bit back his low curse. It was stupid, juvenile and foolish to think that the gods had ever cared, for the man sitting behind the very laptop countless people had died for had a bullet wound in the middle of his forehead and the wall behind him was splattered with blood and the laptop had been torn apart. 

“C?” 

“L?” 

“They got it. Laptop’s ripped open and,” he walked in further, swallowing his gag at the reek of blood, “they shot their guy. Been here… half an hour, at most.” Which meant someone was following him. 

There was a pause and Lorcan heard Connall take a breath to speak but then, “Wait. Shh.” 

Connall didn’t fight it, didn’t speak another word as Lorcan listened, narrowing his eyes and slowly putting his gun back in his shoulder holster. He could’ve sworn he’d heard something coming from… the hallway. 

Lorcan gave the room one last glance and stepped out into the hallway, just in time to see a black clad figure sprint down the hall and jump, crashing through the window and onto the streets below them. 

“What was that?” Connall asked, evidently having heard the glass smashing. 

“The list,” Lorcan bit out, already moving when Connall told him Nehemia was tracking the hard drive. “I’m in pursuit.” 

Lorcan ran to the end of the hall, stopping himself from crashing through the pane and searching the rooftops. Two buildings away, there was that same shrouded figure hopping along the buildings of Morath, glancing back at Lorcan every so often. 

“Tell Elide I’ll be late.” 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Her plan for a day off hadn’t worked. Elide had tried to relax, as Lorcan told her to constantly. She snorted to herself as she highlighted a passage and switched to a blue pen, scrawling a note on the margin. It was rich coming from Lorcan. The man could barely sit still for a half hour show without fiddling with something, dropping into push-ups or another exercise. 

There were a couple trays of cranberry-orange muffins sitting idly by, ones Elide had made after getting a craving from the baking shows. She plucked one up, mindlessly picking at it and thinking to herself. 

Her thesis advisor and mentor, a man named Weylan Darrow, sent her an email about her next review panel and she clicked on it, reading through his notes. He was a crotchety old man, that is, to everyone except Elide. He had developed a bit of a soft spot for her over the past couple years. 

He had been a huge help - a godsend, really, during the years. Being a former foster child herself, writing on how the system affected cognitive development was a personal and delicate subject for her, but Darrow, as he preferred to be called, had always respected boundaries and pushed her to take time off when she needed it. 

Elide zoned out and absentmindedly munched on her muffin, only realizing she’d been sitting at the kitchen island, staring off into space for a couple minutes when the buzzer sounded. 

She got up and padded over to it, furrowing her brow as she tried to recall which button it was to talk. The largest was lit up and flashing green, so she took a chance and held it down as she said, “Hello?” 

“Miss Lochan?” 

“Yes?” 

“Mr. Salvaterre had a package delivered for you. Would you like me to bring it up?” 

Elide shook her head, forgetting for a second that they couldn’t see her. “Oh, no, Malakai, I’ll be down soon.” 

“Alright, Miss Lochan. See you soon.” 

Elide walked back to the counter and put ten or so muffins into a container for Malakai and his husband before she slipped on her shoes and went downstairs, wondering what on earth Lorcan had sent her. 

One of his neighbours was in the elevator with her and they chatted idly. The older woman was a sweetheart and Elide gave her a muffin from the container, graciously thanking her for the invitation to have tea later that day. 

Elide bid the woman good-bye and smiled at Malakai, handing him the container, “Fresh from the oven.” 

He smiled and put the container under the front desk, coming back up with a sleek, black and silver edged dress box, tied together with a matching silver ribbon. “For you and,” he pulled up a matching black and silver bag with silver ribbon handles, “for you. There’s a note in there, too.” 

She smiled, trying to control her blush as she fit the bag’s handles in her elbow and picked up the box, ignoring Malakai’s cheeky wink. “Oh, stop it.” 

“I didn’t say anything.” 

Elide just rolled her eyes and went back upstairs, making herself wait until she returned to the penthouse to open it. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“Marama, do you have eyes on Salvaterre?”  

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Lorcan hardly heard the words flying over the radio in his ear as he dodged a cheap punch, ramming his elbow up into the masked figure’s face, hearing the telltale crunch of the man’s nose and using the advantage of the man’s head snapping back to lock him in a chokehold and put pressure on his windpipe. “Where is it?” 

The man spoke an ancient, dirty language - one of the man legends say tried to rip the world in two. Lorcan snarled in his ear, gripping the top of his mask, “Tell me where it is or I swear to Hellas, I’ll throw you off this gods-damned bridge. Tell me where it is.” 

The man fought for breath and Lorcan let him struggle before loosening his hold, letting the man believe he had the advantage. “You will never find it.” 

“I need two more minutes,” Nehemia said, her voice tinged in desperation. 

During the chase across the city to the decrepit bridge they stood on now, the man had dropped the hard drive, the small black square escaping Lorcan’s attention. Nehemia had managed to track it somehow, probably from the original tracker they had planted in the computer, and was deciphering its security features. 

Lorcan ripped the mask from the man, turning him and leaning him over the railing, “Tell me where it is.” 

Erawan’s man’s pupils were dilated, leaving only a thin circle of watery blue around the depthless black. Most of the fanatic’s forces took a drug hybrid Erawan and his team had crafted themselves and flooded the streets of every major international city with, a drug called Wyrd. It made one feel invincible, making them believe they could withstand any physical act like torture and harm. 

Really, it just severed the pain receptor connection and the majority of users ended up near dead in the hospitals. 

“You cannot stop the prophecy. He will reign supreme,” the man promised, choking slightly as the blood from his broken nose slid down his throat. 

Lorcan fought the urge to roll his eyes and gripped the man’s collar, twisting the material until he could barely get a breath in, “I will break your neck, tell me where it is.” 

The man clamped his jaw shut, biting down so hard and fast that Lorcan saw a cracked tooth when the man attempted to spit on him and instead, drooled down his weak chin. “You… you…will never… know.”

“Are you in position,” that hissing viper voice snapped, not one part of the sentence in question. 

“Yes, ma’am. Three buildings southwest, clear view of Salvaterre and target.” 

Lorcan was distracted for a split second by listening to Fenrys’ location, and the man grabbed at the chance, ramming his knee up between Lorcan’s legs and pushing him off. 

That quickly, Lorcan was incapacitated by the pain in his body, hardly fighting the target as he stomped on his knee, forcing it to bend in a way no knee should. He swallowed his scream of pain, his head whipping to the side when he was punched in the face, already tasting blood in his mouth and spitting it onto the ground before fighting back. 

The man was relentless, with zero regard for his own protection as he rained blows down on Lorcan, lashing out with his feet and knees. 

Lorcan snarled and easily sidestepped the next punch, returning one of his own to the throat and one to his solar plexus. The man stumbled back, blood and saliva leaking down his face and fighting for breath. 

Panting, the man attempted to strike, a hard jab to the stomach that had Lorcan bending reflexively and giving the man just enough time to slip away and sprint towards the city.  

Lorcan groaned in pain, rasping to the earpiece, “He’s running.” 

“I got him,” Fenrys said and Lorcan started running, pushing his agony down down down. “I got him.” 

The man’s multitude of injuries started to heed his escape as Lorcan used every lesson drilled into him to keep his mind off the white hot pain in his left knee and tackled him to the ground, quickly pressing his knees into the man’s elbows and using his weight to keep him down. “Where the fuck did you put it?” 

The man pressed his lips together, pure rage and unadulterated fury in his eyes. Somehow, he slipped his arm free and slashed, slicing the knife Lorcan didn’t know he had down Lorcan’s right cheekbone. Then, the target flipped them as Lorcan felt warm blood leak down his face and pressed the tip of his knife into Lorcan’s throat. “I will never tell you. The prophecy must come true, our king will be crowned at last.” 

“What’s the hold up,” Maeve snarled, wondering why he hadn’t shot yet. 

Lorcan remained as still as possible, the cool metal edge of the blade cutting into his skin. He felt warm blood drip and pool in the hollow of his throat as Fenrys said he couldn’t get a clear shot. 

“Take the fucking shot,” Maeve ordered and the target was distracted by something. 

That quick, Lorcan shoved him off, flipping them just as he heard the distinct sound of a bullet being shot through the radio and nearly instantaneously, searing pain ripped through his left side, forcing him to take a step back. 

He bumped into something cold and metal, pausing as he slowly looked down and lifted his fingers to the hole in his black tactical shirt. They came away red and as if life was in slow motion, he looked up at the target, whose own eyes were widening. Swallowing thickly, Lorcan whispered, “Agent down.” 

Then, he stumbled back another step and hit the railing, tipping over it and falling to the river. 

The wind whipped at his body and he was so tired, he was in so much pain. 

Eventually, he hit the water below with a resounding boom, the spray nearly touching the bridge he’d fallen from. As he grasped to the tendrils of life as the current swept him under, he felt someone cup his face and opened his eyes. 

Elide floated above him, a gentle, peaceful sort of smile playing at her round lips. She didn’t say a thing and Lorcan tried, tried to tell her the words that had been locked away inside his ancient, wicked heart for an eternity, but there was too much water, down his throat, down his nose, in his eyes. 

Elide Lochan, I love you.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

It was a quarter to eight and Elide looked at herself in the mirror, appraising the vision. She could almost imagine how Lorcan would react. 

First, his eyes would catch on her face and he’d smile - he always did and he never noticed. 

Then, in afterthought, he would flick his gaze over her body and pause, his lips parting in a soft gasp as he drank in the sight of her curves. He would sear her skin with his stare as he looked at the way the black silk of the dress he’d bought her slid over her body, delicate diamond decorated straps that attached the cowl neckline to the low-cut back and left her creamy skin on almost full display.

Lorcan would walk up slowly, looking up and down her figure and then ruin the moment by doing something juvenile like grabbing her ass or saying something crass that had her laughing even though she would deny it until she was blue in the face. 

Elide reached over for her earrings, single drop diamonds that had once belonged to her mother. She cast a harsh glance over her makeup, her cheeks heating at the deep maroon lip. Lorcan had a little bit of a thing for coloured lipsticks and liked to have her leave marks over his body, smeared against his across his skin.

She heard a knock on the door and her stomach clenched in anticipation. Elide breathed out slowly as she walked out of the bathroom and down the stairs, one hand holding her swishy skirt and biting back her smile as she waltzed across the front hall and put her hand on the cool silver handle. 

With one last calming sigh, she opened the door, not at all prepared to see Rowan and Connall standing on the doorstep, wearing somber faces. “Oh, hi. Lorcan’s not here right now, he’s still at work, I think. We’re going out.” 

They looked at each other with unease and Connall stepped forward, the moon to his brother’s sun wearing a broken expression. “Ellie…” 

She curled her shaking hands into fists, determined to not let them see her breakdown over nothing. Lorcan probably had to work late, she understood. They could reschedule. 

“Ellie, Lorcan’s not… he’s not…” Connall’s voice died off and he looked in desperation at Rowan, who looked seconds from tears. 

Her voice was dry and cracked when she dared whisper a question for which she dreaded the answer,

“Where is he?”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

oh he fucking dead doe - that’s where he is 😳 anyways, i just wanted to let everyone know that i will not be posting as often as i did with previous wips - frankly, i can’t keep it up, i’ve been writing pretty much nonstop since april and im a lil tired. there are other contributing factors (ie, i have thirty chapters planned out + an extra scene and im writing it serially which i don’t usually do) but yeah, that’s what’s up! i am hoping to post twice a week on sundays and wednesdays (8pm pacific time babey) and that may drop to once but whatcha gonna do 

@mythicaitt @tinywolfofeyllwe @schmlip-scribble @the-regal-warrior @empire-of-wildfire @rhysands-highlady @ttakeitbacknoww @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tswaney17 @ourbooksuniverse @flora-and-fae @thesirenwashere @queenofxhearts @maastrash @mynewdreamwasyou @cursebreaker29 @empress-ofbloodshed @b00kworm @amren-courtofdreams @minaidss​ @superspiritfestival @lovemollywho @queen-of-glass @jlinez @sleeping-and-books @ireallyshouldsleeprn @verypaleninja